𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘓𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘏𝘰𝘮𝘦.

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚗𝚎.

"Paul, my love, what would you like for breakfast?"

"Scrambled eggs, please!"

"Of course, dear."

--------------------------------------------------

"Mikey, wake up!"

Paul shook his little brother awake for school. Of course, the younger boy groaned but silently began to get ready. He hasn't made small talk since Mary's death. It hurt Paul, but he sadly got used to it.

The only thing he wasn't used to yet was the emptiness. He had nobody to talk to at home. His brother was closed off, his mother died, and his father was in his own little world. James usually stays in his bedroom, only going out to piss or go to work. He doesn't eat, watch TV, nothing. He just sits in the dark, crying or sleeping.

Mike's the same way. He goes to school and that's about it. He doesn't talk to his little friends, play with toys, he's even stopped eating too. He looked sickly thin, which was something that made his older brother deeply concerned. He didn't want to think of his late mother, it made him cry too much.

As for Paul, he tried to make believe that everything was normal and well. He pretended his mother was only on a very long vacation. She needed it after all, she was so sick for a long time and needed some fun! His dad was just going through his hard time and he will get better shortly, Mike wanted some alone time, and he was being the man of the house. Once she comes back, everyone will be alright! James will be happy, Mike will go back to normal, and Paul could back to being a happy-go-lucky teenager.

But his heart knew better. She wasn't coming back.

He went into the kitchen and began to prepare breakfast just as the younger McCartney got out of the shower and back into his cold room. Mary used to cook the boys breakfast as James would sit at the table. She would serve them and kiss his father's forehead before heading out the door to work.

The table is so dull now.

He made scrambled eggs, put some on a plate for Mike and himself and put it on the table, then put the rest on another plate and slowly made his way to his father's door. He held his breath as he knocked on the door.

"Dad? May I come in?"

His father's quiet voice was almost like music to his ears, "Yes, Paul."

Macca opened the door. Tissues. Pictures of Mary. Blankets. Plates of untouched food.

"I made you breakfast, it's scrambled eggs!" Paul looked down at the plate.

Just like mum used to make.

James stayed with his back towards him, "No thanks, I'm not hungry."

His worried son looked at the other plates on the nightstand, "Are you sure? You're not really touching your food these days..."

"I'm sure. Is your brother getting ready?"

"....yes."

"Alright, Paul. Now get ready yourself."

Paul stood there for a second, then promptly left.

He forgot to say 'Have A Good Day At School.'

He went to his bedroom and got on his school uniform. He hated wearing it, but he had no choice. He then went into the kitchen to eat his eggs. While eating, Mike came out of his room and grabbed his backpack.

"Mike!" The little one turned to Paul, "Aren't you going to eat?"

"No." He opened the door and left to his middle school.