ℙ𝔸𝕀ℕ ⇒ 𝕁𝕆ℍℕ 𝕃𝔼ℕℕ𝕆ℕ

⋄ ⅩⅬⅤ ⋄

❝𝕽𝖊𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖎𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖉𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖕𝖔𝖎𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝖙𝖔 𝖉𝖎𝖊,❞

...

| January 4th, 1965 |

John's POV

Charlotte strolled into the studio, making her way to George's side and sitting next to him, admiring him strumming chords. John lifted his head to glance at her and then returned to what he was doing, trying to not look suspicious. She and George began laughing together and John's heart strained, feeling jealous. He shook his head and sighed, wanting the feeling to leave.

Paul decided now was a good time to discuss what happened the other day, so he leaned over to whispered in John's ear.

"Hey, follow me, we need to talk," He knew the situation was none of his business, but he wanted everything settled with no animosity between the band members and their girls.

The bassist stood from the stool and left the room, not looking back to confirm that John was following him. When he made it into the hallway, he saw the man step out and shut the door.

"So, about you and Charlotte, what's been goin' on?" Paul began walking, nodding to John for him to join him.

"You want to know everything?" He asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, tell me when and how it first started up until what happened last Friday,"

"Alright, well, really early in the morning on Christmas, I snuck into her room and, y'know, that's when it started, I'll spare you the details. Anyways, after that, I started blackmailing her for sexual favors and such, or else I'd tell George what happened on Christmas. And then over the weekend I realised what an ass I've been to her and what I did wasn't good," John explained.

"And does George know about this?" Paul interrogated the man.

"Hell no, he'd kill me if he found out!" He rose his voice, luckily the hallways were quite desolate.

"Ya need to tell him," 

"No," John crossed his hands over his chest. "yer askin' me to make a death wish,"

 "He's going to find out soon enough, ya might as well inform him now and rip off the band-aid quicker. He won't hate ya forever, he'll get over it eventually," He spoke.

"I'm not doin' it,"

"Then I'll tell him myself," Paul sighed. "Either you tell him, or I tell him, and by the way, it'll probably look worse on your part if I say it,"

"Fine, fine whatever, but if he kills me, it's yer fault," John rose his hand and pointed his finger in Paul's face.

"Let's go then," The bassist turned around and began walking back.

"Wait! Right now?" He rushed after him.

"Yeah, why not?"

"Why can't it wait till' tomorrow or something?" John complained.

"Then tomorrow you'll say, 'wait till' next week', then it'll be, 'wait till' next month,' and then, 'wait till' next year," Paul repeated.

"Alright, whatever, fine," He threw his hands into the air and stomped into the recording room, Paul following a few feet away.

"Carlotta, could you excuse us for moment?" The bassist requested politely.

"Of course," Charlotte kissed George goodbye and exited the room, leaving the four boys by themselves.