𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 (𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴)

❛❛chapter twelve: pretty eyes❜❜

❧May 14, 1960☙

After a bit of confusion, I was now at Lathom Hall, ran by Brian Kelly, where they were playing. The place was packed, filled with locals and the fanbase they had built up so far. I was sitting at a table with some other girls; I didn't know who they were though. The guys played on the raised platform, tapping their feet on the old wood flooring to the beat of their music.

I eyed them all; they looked a bit unkempt. Their hair was messily rested atop their heads, and their outfits differed, but all kept the same rock n' roll style that they were obsessed with. I was in a yellow mod dress with John's jacket that he gave me a while ago on my shoulders. I was still obsessed with its heavy weight squeezing my shoulders like a hug. Comforting was the best way to put it. I wore pearls on my neck and an assortment of rings on both my hands. Lastly, my hair curled outward in the way the hairstylists did it before a set. I had picked up a few things here and there as I watched them ready me up.

The group was playing more popular rock songs that were coming out. Personally, I wished Paul and John played more of their songs because they were actually good. I suppose they were a bit nervous and didn't want to be criticized, which was fair because Liverpool can be a rough crowd. John had actually told me a few stories about his recent spats with the men in the masses. I wish he'd choose his battles better, but fighting was his way of getting his anger out at whatever he found wrong with the world. 

"D'ya mind!" A woman yelled at me.

My eyes flicked up out of my thoughts and to the loud yelling.

"What? I-I'm sorry?" I said while picking up my handbag.

She groaned, "That's my seat!"

I nodded, understanding what she wanted now. I stood up from the spot and walked over to the bar. I sat down on a stool but kept my eye on the boys. I noticed that Stuart had been staring at me and throwing smiles in my direction, which I kindly returned. I thought he was proper fit and kind. I just loved the way he looked, but I kinda felt guilty to have such thoughts when it was John who was "in love" with me. But it's not illegal to just point out the obvious; Sutcliffe was a good-looking guy. It's not like I'd fall in love with him. 

"And for our next number," John spoke into the mic, "I'd like to play Johnny B Goode!"

The crowd got excited as George started the beginning of the song. 

"Deep down in Louisiana close to New Orleans. Way back up in the woods among the evergreens! There stood a log cabin made of earth and wood, where lived a country boy named Johnny B. Goode! Who never ever learned to read or write so well. But he could play a guitar just like a-ringin' a bell!"

Paul shuffled his feet on the ground, which only made George join him in goofing off. I was amazed by their talent, sounding so close to the actual Chuck Berry, just a bit amateur. 

The bartender came up to me, "Would you like a bevvy, Miss?"

I turned to look at him, "Oh, sorry, no, I don't drink."

I never drank, to begin with, but now I actually couldn't because of my job.

"Prude." Some random guy from the crowd commented.

I flipped my two fingers up at him in a rude gesture. It wasn't really worth the argument, but I hated when men had little snide remarks about everything a woman did. The guy furrowed his brows and turned away, which made me happy that I put him in his place.

John finished the second verse of "Go Johnny Go," Which meant my favorite part was next. George and Pete synced up, and I slapped my thighs in rhythm.