December 16th, 1967- Later that evening
John was in suit. He stoot in front of a mirror, desperately trying to bind up his tie.
"You wanna help?" John turned. Pattie stood in door. He took a minute to examine her look. She was wearing an orange and red striped dress with short sleeves and skirt a bit above knees, so he could see her skinny legs. Her sort of red-ish brown wavy hair were somehow floating under her shoulders. She had just a basic make-up- eye-liner and mascara. She had a lot of freckles. After he completed "research", he realized they are staring at each other awkwardly.
"...wow..." John broke the painful silence with sigh. It was actually the first time he saw her that dressed. She blushed to the exact colour of tomato. She looked like some strangely attractive midget.
"Um- you look great. You should wear suits....more often.." she said by her usual silent voice, even when she known that he actually wears suits often. John smiled. Their eyes met in one moment, but they both quickly looked away. They stood in another silence. (You are probably saying now that they had a lot of these silent moments-dear friends, yes. They had.)
"You wanna help with it?" said Pattie after a while, pointing at John's untied tie.
"Uh- yeah, you would be so kind." John responsed. Pattie came to him, silently and gracefully winning the "tie fight".
"So, you guys ready? It's near, so you don't need the car." Roger went downstairs, "Ciss, you look marvelous!" he pointed out.
"Oh my, thanks very much.." she responsed, averting her eyes from John.
It wasn't that near how Roger said, he probably did it just because he wanted them to walk together and what's more- to speak. Of which they were both very...well, let's say they were not amused. At all.
"Near, eh?" John muttered for himself. "Bittersweet."
"Um, exuse my perhaps uncomfortably capitous question, but tell me what on earth is the 'sweet' part on that we, in December, are going to some strange party that is obviously miles away, without anything to eat or drink?" Pattie silently used her sense of sarcasm. She was staring at him, waiting for an answer, but he was speechless. She burst out grinning at him, and they stopped.
"It's probably here." John pointed at some huge building with a shining sign "CHATEOU LE MARC CLUB".
"Wow, do you have a French dictionary?" John pointed out, making Pattie laugh, but before she could say something, the door opened.
"What do you two want?" said the tall, thick man in door.
"Uh-hello." said Pattie a bit sharply, but when she saw the man's obviously edgy face, she quietly and scaredly leaned a bit closer to John, making slightly smile and turn at her.
"Names?" said the man with American accent.
"Sorry?" John turned back.
"Your names."
"Um- John Entwistle and Patrice Jones." said Pattie slowly. The man looked to list of names he had.
" I don't belive you, but paper says you can go in." said the man and pointed at entrance door. John hesitatingly turned at Pattie. She nodded and they went in, still watching the man.
It was a huge place. There was a table in the middle of the dance floor, where were few people dancing on the psychedelic music. It didn't seem like a formal party. Then the penny dropped.
