❧October 3, 1957☙
(a/n: please keep in mind, not everything I say in this chapter is true to the actual story)
John and I were practically best friends. We did everything together. I met his biological mother, and he told me about his parents and his uncle George. It was quite tragic, and I can't imagine all the emotional damage he was actually dealing with, but he hid it from me pretty well. I wished he would be a bit more vulnerable with me, but as time goes, he will, hopefully.
Me and a lad named Paul were both in grade 11 and had mostly the same classes. Apparently, John had just let him join his band. This was a good time for me to start befriending him. In maths, I choose a seat beside him.
"Class!" The teacher hit her desk with a ruler, "Eyes up on the board!"
I followed her strict voice. Her stick pointed to the algebra questions that we were supposed to write down. I jotted it down and then stared out the window, not answering them. Paul looked in my direction and stifled a laugh.
"McCartney! What seems to be so funny?" The teacher snapped.
He immediately looked back down at his paper and pretended to read, shaking his head lightly. I copied him as not to get yelled at too. After a dreadful hour of doing stuff I didn't really understand, we were dismissed from the class. Luckily it was lunch, so Paul and I found John, and we sat with each other. His other friends came and sat with us. From what I remember, their names were Eric, Colin, Rod, Pete, and Len.
"Would you look at this? Loverboy and his bird," Pete, the almost white-haired kid, said with his food in hand.
John glared at him, "She's not me bird, Shotton."
"Bu-"
I looked around, "Who invited the washboard kid?"
Everyone laughed, but the one I was insulting. It was all light-hearted, though. I opened my brown paper bag and was delighted to see a bologna sandwich and chips. The chips were cold, but I still appreciated them. I saw John sneak a few from the paper cup they were in.
"Lennon, I chop your grimy han-"
"Paul!" Said a strange voice.
I looked up to see a far younger boy—unmistakable dark hair that swooped to his left, thick eyebrows, and a cheeky grin with fangs. He was beautiful, honestly.
"George?" Paul looked somewhat surprised.
I noted the young fella who had bushy brows was named George. I could see and feel John's spiteful energy. I rolled my eyes at him. John had a thing about people bring others around. It undermined his "authority." Paul liked to do that a lot. I didn't see the trouble with it. Lennon was going to have to get over it because that's not going to work well later in life.
"La's this is George! He's me, mate," Paul introduced him and scooted over in the grass so George could sit with us.
John furrowed his brows at Paul, "Lettin' any ol' tosser hang with us?"
"It's me, mate?" Paul's face looked concerned, "George plays the guitar."
"I don't bloody care what the f-"
I put a hand on his arm and said quietly, "No need to be bitter."
I could feel him relax his tense biceps.
"I can sit somewhere else. I don't mean to be a problem," George sighed while pushing off the ground.
I felt bad for the kid. John's hateful energy was no joke, and hurt if you were the one under its wrath.
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𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 (𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴)
Fanfiction"ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪʀᴅꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴋʏ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ꜱᴀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏɴᴇʟʏ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴋɴᴇᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ'ᴅ ʟᴏꜱᴛ ᴍʏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛʜᴇʏ'ᴅ ʙᴇ ꜱᴀᴅ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ ʙᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ" 。゚゚・。・゚゚。 ゚。 𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐱 𝐎𝐂 ゚...