Help! | McLennon

Black Hole

Saying Paul was anxious to show up at the studio wasn't enough to describe what was going inside of him. His hear was racing as he took a step into the building. His throat was clogging at the thought of singing again alone, he wasn't even trying to picture how him talking to John would look like.

He felt a sting of melancholy when his eyes landed on all the gear. Music used to be who he was. It was his everything, but he had lost it over heroin. But it didn't matter anymore, or at least that is what he was trying to believe. He was there now to gain his old self back, despite the fact that it seemed impossible to do without John's love to comfort him.

Paul took a sit and glanced around, focusing on the peaceful surroundings. He had decided to come in a little earlier to give himself time to slowly adapt. His heartbeat was becoming more regular and his breathing definetely more steady.

"What are you doing here?" Paul heard John's voice behind him, which made him jump from his seat. John didn't seem to be sorry about scaring him. "It's a bit early, innit?"

"Hello to you too, John." He was suprised at his voice coming out steady, just a little cold. As he stared at his former partner he realized that he had nothing to fear. It was just John and his bitchiness, nothing else. If he wanted to fight, so be it.

"I asked you a question," John spoke with mocked warmth. Paul's eyes widened and he could feel blood starting to flow faster throughout his body. His eyes misted over before he could calm himself down. Thus ended his brave attitude.

"I'm just here, is that a problem to you?" His heart twisted when John's glare didn't soften at all. If anything, it had become more intense and spiteful.

"I'm not in the mood for your bullshit today, get it?" John barked and slid his hand into the pocket of his black trousers, taking out a pack of cigarettes. He lit one for hismelf, not bothering to offer one to Paul. The lad felt a stab of anger at John's arrogance. He didn't want to fight anymore, so he turned around and rubbed his ever-exhausted face.

"So, Paul..." The way John said his name sounded as if Paul was his worst enemy, which despite Paul's annoyence, hurt terribly. "What do you think about Yoko?"

Paul immediately turned back around to face his ex-partner's vicious smirk. "Are you bloody joking right now?!" he spat out his rage freely. "You're such a jerk, I can't believe this is really happening!" He stood up, without much thinking, and took few steps closer to the other.

The two ex-lovers locked eyes and nobody dared to open their mouth. There were times when John's piercing stare used to be Paul's comfort place. Those little, brown eyes of his used to be windows to his soul, as people would often say. Where was all that now? It had become only disgust and resentment. Just as Paul was about to break the eye contact he noticed something on John's face that nearly caused his heart to stop. No... What is possible? Of course! How could he not realize it earlier...

"Fuck, John, you're an addict..."

As John heard the accusation his mask slipped for a second. He quickly managed to get back on track, although not quickly enough for Paul not to notice it. He wiped at his nose, still not breaking the full of tension eye contect. He slowly looked down at the sleeve of his green shirt and spotted some questionable powder there. He gazed up at Paul again, whose face was filled with fear.

At least things were starting to make more sense to Paul. John's behaviour that is, not the whole situation. How could he ever snort anything after what had happened to his, now clearly former, love and best friend? He knew John and he knew that he could be really self-destructive at times, but this went beyond Paul's understanding. Way, way beyond it.