Help! | McLennon

No More Hope

- 1966 -

"Bloody hell, John! Where is it?!" Paul fumed, throwing things out of the top drawer of a small, wooden nighstand.

"I already told you! I haven't touched your silly notebook!" John denied with frustration, watching the scene from the other side of the room, where he was casually leaning on the door frame. Paul stood up rapidly and sent him a death glare.

"Silly notebook?! I have important things written down there, you daft git!"

"If it's so important to you then you shouldn't just leave it somewhere and forget where!"

"Ah, I can't believe you!" Paul huffed angrily and went back to making a huge mess. "Just get out, leave me alone."

"Paul, I haven't done anything wrong this time!" John protested, but the other was not listening to him anymore. "Fine, whatever..." he mumbled, turned around and made his way out of the place. The feeling of guilt started getting to Paul when he heard his mate walking away. "No, you're right... I'm—" he began, but it was too late. John had already left the hotel room. Having nothing better to do, Paul continued searching for the notebook while waiting for him to come back. He waited and waited, but nothing happened. Eventually, he did find. He had left it under his pillow after writing down some songs ideas the night before. Nevertheless, John still wasn't back.

After almost two hours of sitting on the couch, doing nothing but sobbing silently, Paul started drifting off to sleep. Maybe John was not coming back? He most likely wasn't. But where was he? Usually this time of night they were both already asleep. He was probably at some bar, getting drunk and cheating on him. After all, it wouldn't be the first time.

Things weren't the greatest between them. Paul was telling himself that just because they had been getting on eachother's nerves a lot lately, didn't mean they didn't love eachother anymore. It was just so compilicated, together with the stress that all the band members had been experiencing for the last few months.

In morning Paul woke up only to discover that he was still alone. His only company were a strong, pulsating headache and a deep feeling of loneliness. It would all go away if he had some heroin in his system. He had been clean for almost two years though and he wouldn't let one, dumb fight ruin that. Letting John down was the last thing he wanted, no matter how poorly their relationship was going. They were having a recording session later that day, so they were going to see eachother there. It wasn't like they hadn't fought and made up before, right?

But it looked like it wasn't going to be that easy this time. When he got to the studio, John was already there. He didn't notice the lad coming in or maybe he just decided to ignore him, Paul didn't know. It hurt anyway.

"Hey..." he said gloomily and pulled himself a chair, so that he could sit next to his partner. He could already smell the heavy scent of alcohol on him and it caused his heart to sink a little. "I was worried about you."

"Mhm," John hummed, not even looking at him. His hair was a mess and he was wearing the same clothes he wore on the previous day. When had he become such a slob?

Paul sighed. "I'm sorry, okay? I am." John let out the same sound again, causing Paul to start getting irritated. He was not feeling well even without the other's stubborn behaviour. "Please, don't—" he started, but got interrupted by Ringo walking in. John greeted him as usually and Paul struggled not to start bawling his eyes out right there. "We'll talk later, yeah?" he whispered, hoping that John would agree at least to that. To his dissapointment, this time he didn't even get a stupid, careless hum. John ghosted him completely.