In Spite of all the Danger | McLennon

I Saw Him Standing There

John awoke to the crisp morning sunlight filtering through his curtains and landing on his face. He mumbled something and rolled over so the light wasn't directly in his eyes, attempting to go back to sleep.

Bloody mornings, he complained to himself. I can't stand another day of treading to school and listening to the teachers. They act all chuffed when they're just as dead inside as all their students. He smirked to himself at his own remark. It might seem exaggerated, but it was completely true. It was painfully obvious how much the teachers despised their jobs and how much they equally hated their students. But, really, who could blame them when they had to deal with people like John?

He sat up in bed and stretched his arms above his head, thinking back to yesterday evening when one of John's classmates had introduced John to a friend of his.

"John! Ya gotta meet me mate, Paul. He plays guitar, like you!"

John's band had been playing at the Garden Fete, in Woolton, and John had noticed a scrawny kid standing in the crowded field with a guitar strapped to his back, staring at John with interest as he played with his band. After the band had finished, John was introduced to the boy.

"The names Lennon. John Lennon."

"Paul McCartney."

The boy then shook John's hand (which he thought was an odd gesture) and upon John's request, he had played a few numbers on his guitar. He actually wasn't bad, he could play well enough and he had a great singing voice. He seemed to lack the confidence that would be needed to front the band, but John wasn't soon going to relinquish that position anyway.

John had told the boy that he would think about perhaps letting him join the band, and said that he would call him when he made a decision.

But John had already made up his mind as soon as the boy had finished playing Twenty Flight Rock, not missing a single chord and singing every lyric to perfection. John obviously thought that the young lad would be a great addition and he planned on calling him about it as soon as possible.

John yawned and finally got out of bed, throwing on a white T-shirt and pair of black drainpipe trousers. He combed his hair in front of his little desk mirror, and made sure he looked presentable and like he hadn't just slept until 11 o'clock in the morning.

He hummed quietly to himself as he sauntered downstairs to the kitchen and grabbed himself a biscuit for breakfast.

"You're up earlier than usual," called a silvery voice. John peeked into the sitting room to find his aunt reading the newspaper, a satisfied look on her face.

"Morning, Mimi," John said with a smile.

"Someone's happy." She looked up at him with suspicion in her eyes. "What're you up to?"

"Just happy it's a Saturday." He said, winking at her. She just rolled her eyes and went back to her newspaper.

John made his way back to the kitchen and fetched a neatly folded piece of paper out of his trouser pocket. Paul had given it to him when they had met.

He grabbed the receiver of the telephone and began punching in the number on the paper.

0-7-9-0-9-1-5-1-7-6-4

John listened to the phone ring for a couple seconds before being answered by a heavy voice.

"Hello?"

"Paul?"

"This is his father, Jim, Paul's in his bedroom. Who are you?"

"The name's Lennon. John Lennon. Could you go get Paul for me? Please sir, thank you sir" John answered politely. There was a brief pause on the other end and John was soon greeted by a smooth, gentle voice.

"Hello?"

John felt the corners of his mouth twitch up into a smile. "Hey, it's John."

"John?" Paul asked, pretending to think for a moment. "Hmm... I'm afraid I don't know a John." John could hear the playful sarcasm in his voice.

"Lennon, ya clod!" John yelled into the phone.

"Oooooohhhhh.... that John!"

John rolled his eyes and laughed a little at Paul's "sudden realization."

"So," Paul's angelic voice sounded intrigued by John, "why'd you call? There somethin' you wanna tell me?"

For some odd reason, the question embarrassed John a bit. He had never been particularly good at talking to people, but this was just ridiculous.

"I... er... I just wanted to say..." He stuttered. Christ, John! You're gonna blow it! He cursed to himself.

"Well, come on then, I don't have all day," Paul laughed.

"I'm allowing you into my band." John managed to spit out.

"You're allowing me?" Paul asked, amused. "Could you elaborate on that, mate?" He giggled as he spoke, making John blush more.

"What do you mean?" John asked sheepishly.

"Are you allowing me into the band or are you asking me to join the band?"

"Look, do you wanna be in the band or not?!" John asked, annoyed. He wasn't really annoyed at Paul, he was annoyed at how much the last was making him flustered.

"Of course! I'd love it!" Paul's zealousness was so blatantly obvious, it made John laugh a little.

"Well we have band practice on Wednesday, McCartney. It'll be at 8 o'clock, my place." John said.

"Thank you, John!" Paul was acting so much like a schoolgirl, and John couldn't help but break into a fit of laughter.

"Why're you laughing?" Paul asked curiously. He began laughing a little with John.

"You," John said between laughs

Paul quickly stopped laughing. "What about me?"

"Yer actin like a girl!"

"Am not!" Paul pouted.

"Yes you are!" John laughed.

"No I'm not!" He repeated, sounding truly offended. "Stop saying that!"

"Does the princess want me to stop?" John asked in a mock girl voice.

"Yes I do! And don't call me princess" he said, trying (and failing) to be intimidating.

"Aw, don't be so upset, you'll learn to love me, McCartney." John cooed.

"I doubt it." Paul murmured, still clearly upset.

"Everyone does eventually," John stated.

"Well, I guess I'll be the first not to," Paul said jokingly, and John laughed a little.

There was a small, content silence but neither boy felt like they had to say anything and break the moment.

"Well, I should go," Paul was the first to speak. "I'll see you on Wednesday, John."

"See ya, Paul." John said, a small smile appearing on his face. The line went dead and John put down the phone. He had a good feeling about Paul. He didn't know what it was about the boy, but something about him just made John so unreasonably happy. He didn't know what exactly that feeling was, but he wondered if Paul felt the same way.

He probably didn't.

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~AN- Most of this chapter was written by my friendPolMcCharmley Thank you very much <3