I've Got A Feeling

Fourty Three

Fuck guys, I almost forgot this was supposed to be a George birthday chapter! Sorry 'bout that! Anyway, this was written by me sister and I (I'll be calling her Mulligan, Mull for short probably from now on), with her writing the majority and I edited the bloody thing. So, just giving credit where 'tis do. She has been a help with this story so if you would like to give her some compliments that would be appreciated. ✌️❤️

Fucking hell Lennon, you couldn't pick up yer pace a little? No wonder you look like this. Heaving in air while burning the muscles in my legs, I try and run even faster than before. I'm late to the gig, albeit again, but it's not me fault! I woke up late with a bleedin' headache and couldn't find my guitar and chord to the amp, so I finally had to clean my rubbish bin of a room. So now I have to run like an athlete to the club just to make it with just enough time to plug in and not get an earful from my loving dearest of a boyfriend. "C'mon John, I haven't got all of this century to wait for ye y'know, let's go!" That's one thing I've always remembered about Stu. He was never on time for things, it was always so early you could fall asleep from boredom or so late you didn't have time to apologize to people you hit on the street. We always had a laugh about it either way. We're almost there Stu, don't worry about me.

My old confidante adrenaline decided to be a chap and aid in my record time for being late, me seeing a pissed off George when I get everything hastily set up. His left eyebrow is twitching even, along with that scowl he'll sport for the rest of his life if he doesn't get a better attitude. "Where on God's earth have you been? We've been waiting for the past twenty years for you it feels like!" Tears threatened to blind my eyes as I looked into his eyes, attempting to conjure a witty response. "I-It doesn't matter." My lungs were still trying to calm down with my heart as I could feel my fists getting ready to punch something. The soft voice of my lover coaxed my ears, leaving my hands defenseless. "It's okay Johnny, we would've been just fine. But the good thing is that you made it, yeah?"

"Yeah, I guess." His fingertips dared to lace with mine in this public place, in front of Pete Best, probably the straightest person in the entire world! My body wants to gravely, telling by my beating heart nearly pumping out of my chest. "Take me 'and, will ye?" "Holdin' hands is queer, ye can't just do it like it's normal. Do you want to get arrested?" No, Stu. I don't. So my hand retracted to the pockets of my suit jacket. Ensuring that he's okay, I give him a reassuring glance. The seconds felt like hours leading up to us going on, seeing the people in the crowd. Well if ye take off those stupid glasses maybe it would help.

Stuffing my lenses into my pocket, I take a deep breath. Feeling a hand on my shoulder, my body tenses. "Hey Johnny, could you move over a bit? I want to see the crowd." Fear and anxiousness fills my blood with an angry passion as I felt my voice getting ready to scream. "Haven't ye got enough height to see over me?" "Well, I can almost see but your hair is covering the sliver of the way." I snapped, even though I try to stay calm with him at all times. "Haven't ye thought about how you can't see past yer own fucking ego?! Y'know, it's hard enough to have to see your face and hear your voice everyday when you try to be all friendly and stuff, thinkin' yer Jesus fucking Christ himself by trying to cheer me up when I don't even need it. Shove off!" I could feel the daggers of George's black hole eyes stab into me as I walked onto the stage. My hands began to shake with their clamminess, my brain hesitant on just shutting off completely. No John, you can make it through this show. Make it for Paul. For Paul and Stuart.

"Uh, good afternoon or evening to ye's all. In case you haven't a clue as to who we are, I'm John, also the leader of this group. The one closer to me on bass guitar is pretty boy, also called Paul. The one further from me is named Eyebrows, who also goes by George and plays lead guitar. And finally the one in the back is Pete Best, all you birds should know who 'e is." A weak smile was slapped onto my face as I looked over to Paul in hopes to cheer his mood a little. All I got was a cold stare that seemed lifeless from frozen hazel eyes. George was staring down at his guitar, as to try and not get in between us. It would help though. "Anyway, we'll just get right on with it, yeah?" I nodded towards Pete and George to begin their instruments as Paul finished adjusting the buttons on his amplifier.