bad decisions ~ george harrison

i

december, 1960

           IT WAS TOO DAMN LOUD. bodies swayed with the rhythm of the music blasting from the cheap, yet effective, speakers which were working reasonably fine for a change. ghosts of smoke danced their way to the curved stone ceiling, forming a thick cloud, with the smell of sweat and alcohol, joining forces so the place stank of teenagehood at its maximum.

           diana squeezed her way through the sea of youth, stepping on toes, shoving perverts and accidentally tumbling drinks to the dirty sticky floor. she had always hated how cramped the cavern club was. feeling like sardines in a greasy can. she didn't understand what her friends found so special about it, she hated crowds.

           the dim light made it difficult for diana to get at least a nice glance around the room, plus, the towering frames of people taller than her didn't help much. she had snuck out, with both her parents in deep slumber in their bed, while their middle child challenged herself to fight shit faced giants and perverted globins. the holy grail being the finding of her halfwit group of friends.

           another hand caught her wrist, dragging her away from the direction she was heading. as she was twirled around by the stranger's rough hand, another met the small of her back as she came face to face with a familiar teddy boy.

           "diana my dear, welcome to the jungle! did you bring your sword?" john nearly shouted over her ear, grinning.

           john winston lennon, the devil in disguise. she met him when she was fifteen and the older boy, eighteen, by then. she couldn't lie, he had been her first crush, but his popularity pursued him and she found herself burying those feelings over time. she cringed every time she remembered embarrassing moments related to him and it was all due to that stupid puppy love.

           "oh yes! check this out." she lifted her hand, balled up in a fist and sprang the middle finger up, a hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. john snorted out, wheezing at her mediocre performance. he pretended to wipe away a tear from his right eye, fetching for air.

           "watch out for those manners, young lady." the teddy boy scolded, clearing his throat for a posh accent, hands travelling to his hips.

           "sorry, aunt mimi-"

           "dee, you made it!" paul scooped the girl off her feet, his hands on her waist.

           "let me go james!" diana demanded, throwing fists onto the taller boy's chest. paul set her down, a smile hung on his lips, eyeing her chosen outfit. "is that trousers i see?"

           "it's bloody freezing out there! i'd like to see you walk in heels, with your legs bare, on ice." her dark eyebrows furrowed together, a defying glare shooting out of her green eyes.

           diana felt more free and comfortable when she wore these trousers. she had saved up four months wages just to buy them, but discreetly from her parents. she washed, dried and ironed them away from her mother's prying falcon eyes and were neatly hidden under her old mattress. it wasn't shocking to see a woman wearing trousers but it was frowned upon in dear old liddypool. they did fit her nicely around her waist and tights. at the bottom, they were rolled up twice due to the big length of the leg compared to hers. also, audrey hepburn and marilyn monroe wore trousers, why couldn't diana tuttle wear them too?

           "bloody hell, i would have paid to see that circus!" john joked, pulling paul's head under his armpit, his knuckles diving onto the youngest hair. paul howled in pain, his hair sticking out to all directions possible.