𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞 (𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘴)

❛❛chapter nineteen: foundation❜❜

I sat on the apartment bed after just arriving. Mike had already left to go back home, which meant I was alone for now. I was bored and without anything to do, much like when I was in America. I wasn't tired because I was all rested up from sleeping the entire car ride. I knew that the lads were playing at the Top Ten Club now because they were required to play from eight pm until four am on weekends, and it was Saturday. I decided to surprise them and go see their set. 

I hopped off my bed and picked out a different outfit. I chose a white short sleeve blouse, green and grey plaid tapered pants, a leather belt, black flats, and lastly John's jacket. I was in love with the look, but all I needed to do now was go over my bruise with a bit more makeup. I sat in front of the bathroom mirror, looking at myself. I seemed a bit worn out, but I think it'd be fine. I patted on my foundation, feeling a bit better about my appearance. 

"Okay then," I spoke aloud.

I left the apartment and drove to the club. I was pretty excited to see them for the first time in a month or so. I noticed a big sign on the side of a building that read, 'Wúrzburger Bofbraú' and then right below that, 'TOP TEN CLUB.' I immediately found a parking spot and got out. I noticed how busy the place was, just taking in this feeling. 

I could hear music playing in the distance. God, it sounded so lovely. I walked to the front door and took a deep breath. I was so excited, but I had to contain myself before I'd spurt. I opened the door, and there they were, in all their glory, The Beatles. 

❧John POV☙

Light came from the door as if an angel entered the room. I tried to squint my eyes to see who it was. I could make it out to be a brunette girl with a playful smile. She looked to be excited, radiating a glorious beam of joy. Being so distracted by this bird, I nearly missed my line.

I quickly got closer to the microphone, "Well, you call me yer baby when you holdin' my hand. But the way that you hurt me, I just don't understand. Well, you say that you need me like an ocean needs sand. But the way you deceive me, I just don't understand. Well, you know that I love you more than anyone can. But a one-sided love I just don't understand."

I backed up from the mic to let George do the solo. Still, my attention was on the girl in a white shirt, green pants, and a leather jacket. She was watching us with the biggest smile on her face, or what I think was a smile because I could see her white teeth. I wish I had my glasses.

Suddenly Paul elbowed me, "Would you look at tha'?"

"Look at what?" I whispered.

He rolled his eyes at me, "What do you mean what? You blind mole, you should actually wear yer glasses."

He was right, but I always felt a bit self-conscious about them. You didn't see bloody Elvis wearing glasses.

I groaned, "Shuddup will ya, play the goddamn song."

"But-"

I glared at him, "Shuddup, Macca."

Finally, George ended the solo. The kid was good and was getting even better.

I went in for the last few lines, "Well, you know that I love you more than anyone can. But a one-sided love I just don't understand. Well, you call me yer baby! When you holdin' my hand! Oh, how you can hurt me! I just don't understand!"

George concluded the song beautifully, and I let him take the front of the stage. Everyone in the crowd cheered him on. I noticed the brunette girl was yelling his name and clapping. I knew that voice anywhere, and my eyes shot wide open. Lizzie.