It was the late fall of 1970, which meant the smell of weed and rock music filled the air, and the hippies and their bell-bottomed jeans threw their fists in the air as John, George, Ringo, and I performed our hit song "Back In The USSR" to a crowd of 20,000 fans. Tensions were beginning to arise within me and the boys, as John's wife Yoko becomes more intrusive by the day, and George and Ringo have to be bystanders in the situation. As we stood on the wide hardwood stage, dancing around to the beat of John's guitar playing and Ringo's drumming, I feel free. For a moment, there is peace. For a moment, the problems our band has been facing aren't relevant. We all just smile and sway to the music, carefree and grateful for the opportunity to share our music with the world. As I strum my guitar, and Ringo fades his drums out, we take ours bows and wave to the audience a, "Good Night Jersey!" and head off of the stage into the wings. Immediately, the mood changed, and suddenly I felt tense.
"Fucking hell!" John yelled, banging his head into a guitar offstage. "I sounded horrible!"
"What the hell is wrong with you?" Ringo replied, frustrated with John's anger issues. George stood in the corner, sighing at all of the chaos.
"Can't we all just get along? Why do we always need to fight after every single performance? I know you all were having a good time on stage out there. I saw Paul make eye contact with me, and for a moment everything was calm. We were doing what we loved and having fun while doing it." George remarked, while taking a sip of his hot chamomile tea set offstage by an assistant.
I felt helpless. While I do not want to get involved with my friends argument, I also cannot stand to see it progress further. I threw my Coke bottle away into the rubbish can, and ran my bony fingers through my hair anxiously. I could not take this any longer, "John, Ringo, and George", I spoke. "Why are you letting the tension get to us? You seem to forget that we are one of the best-selling bands in the United Kingdom AND America". At this point, I found myself pacing around the back of the stage, staring at the ground and walls."
"You're so right Paul. I'm so sorry, I have been very frustrated recently, but that is not your faults. How about we go and have tea and biscuits somewhere downtown?" John apologized, his face sweaty and red, embarrassed of his outburst.
"That sounds lovely", George agreed, me and Ringo nodding in agreement as well.
The four of us men proceeded to close the door behind us, and walk towards the pastel-yellow Volkswagen tour bus for boarding to a New Jersey cafe in Garden City named Rosa Russo.
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