I've Got A Feeling

Fourty Nine

England. The place I have lived my entire life, and am finally returning to after a dragging holiday. The clouds are ever so present and dark as they have been since the dawn of time, the fragrance in the air reminiscent of summer rain. I've always loved summer rain. Ever since I was little I can remember just sitting in the rain during those hellish days of heat and humidity, smiling giddily for the rain easing some of the sultriness. Mimi would always beckon for me to come back in the house because I would get a cold, but I never cared. It was only when George had to drag me in by the ear that I would come back in the house and nearly die of boredom.

As I neared to the gates of our little house that Cyn and I bought together I decided to check the mailbox. To my luck, there was nothing in it really, just some papers of bill payments. My hands felt shaky just looking at the front door. What would she have to say to me? Would she even talk to me? Is Paul still there or did he leave earlier this morning? Luckily for that, I didn't have to wait long for an answer as I saw my bassist walking out casually in some olive green trousers and a light jumper, since it is still a bit nippy for the beginning of April. He had a bag over his shoulder and as expected with me as well, a guitar case in hand.

"Hey man, great to see ye." A smile braced my face after getting to say something to him in person finally after two weeks. I hesitated as to wether hold my arms out for a hug or not, but his stone cold expression made it pronounced, with guitar case holding hand and the other shoved into his right trouser pocket. "Yeah, great to see you too. So, how was the infamous trip that you barely talked about? Was it fun?" His deep sarcasm cut like a long spear to my chest, puncturing through to my back. "It was, fine. Nothing happened, I just mainly had some fun drinkin', meeting some foreign birds." Ebony irises jabbed into me sharper than the coldest day when we were in Hamburg, his face reigning terror over me as I stood there trying to keep the shaking of my hands invisible. "Gear, bet you forgot about yer poor wife. At least she had me, not that you'd be grateful for me stayin' anyway." He started walking off briskly until I grabbed him tightly by the wrist. "Paul." "Bye John."

I watched as he walked out into the distance. Never faltering a step to look back. I shoved the mail into my back pocket and stood in front of the door. Deep breath, John. I turned the knob and opened to see the space exactly the same as when I left. "Love, 'm home!" There was a loud thud when I dropped my stuff on the floor. It's more cold in here than it is outside. There's footsteps, so she's definitely still here. "Johnny! Oh god, I missed you." She came down the stairs wearing a nice blue dress and hair tucked back into a neatly swept back bun. Her arms wrapped around me the best they could, considering the bump, and it felt comforting. "I was gonna do my makeup before you came home but Paul and I just got into this deep conversation and he saw you walking down the sidewalk by the time we got done." She said trotting along to the kitchen. "No, it's fine. I like you without it anyway." There was an echoed ringing throughout the house as I had gone to take my luggage to pack it all back into their places. Wonder who could be calling now. "John, it's George! Wait no, sorry, George and Ringo!"

I let out a long awaited sigh, walking back downstairs to catch the phone in time. I gave Cynthia a quick peck on the forehead, warmly smiling at me before she headed back upstairs to do something with the spare bedroom, I think. "Bloody hell, I just got back and yer already ringin' me up." I said with a snicker bracing past my lips. "Well we just couldn't wait to drive all the way to your guys' place to check in. So how was the food?" Happiness filled my lungs as I began to crack up and felt water filling my eyes from laughing so hard. "Oh, give me that!" Ringo fought with George over the phone, which only made me cry in more hysterics. I was almost on the floor at this point. "John, are you okay?" My wife asked over all of my dying coughs. "I'm- fine!" I tried to reassure her between the heaving of air. "Hello John, how was the holiday? You and Brian get along for once?" My heart stopped like it had an anvil dropped inside and it hit my intestines. I opened my mouth but words couldn't leave. "I-It uh, it was fine. Refreshing after so many long nights of shows and staying up even longer to write songs with a hangover, nothing like it." "And what about Brian?"