You've Only Got My Heart on a String

Chapter 1: Exhibition

Life is full of sudden opportunities to seize, but Sasha was caught off guard the night she ran into Paul McCartney.

When she first arrived she noticed that the art exhibition was full of posh socialites; definitely higher class than Sasha had expected. She didn't fit in, but she was only there to support a friend of hers from university so it didn't concern her.

Her friend, Kris, had recently become a protege of an up-and-coming sculptor. She was expected to attend this gallery exhibition, as some of his new pieces were being shown.

Sasha hoped the mentorship would be a positive experience overall for Kris. The sculptor had a bit of a reputation for cycling through young talent, probably taking credit for their ideas and certainly taking advantage of unpaid labour.

Sasha agreed to come along to help Kris feel more at ease in the unfamiliar setting, though there wasn't much she could do other than be there.

They were talking together for only a short while when the sculptor called Kris over to his side. Sasha did not join them, not feeling particularly welcome. Being alone didn't bother her. The surroundings held her interest well enough.

The artists, patrons, and assorted guests seemed to be too preoccupied with themselves or impressing each other to be very interesting, or to be very interested in Sasha.

She got herself a second glass of wine and milled around, content to take in the scene. She viewed the various works on display, finding many of them to her liking. She made her way back to the larger open space near the entrance.

That's when Sasha saw him.

Paul McCartney was across the room, chatting with one of the painters.

Sasha marveled that nobody was making a fuss about his presence. Maybe some of them already knew he'd be there so it wasn't a surprise. She supposed they were reluctant to appear unsophisticated. Sasha had no such inhibitions! Still, she could hardly run up to him and embrace him. She reasoned that he would have experienced similar reactions before and no doubt he had some dodging techniques at the ready.

If she played things right and luck was on her side, she might end up with more than a chance meeting with him to remember. While she considered her next move, she watched him talk to the other guests.

She'd known Paul McCartney, or his public persona at least, her whole life. Being famous, he wasn't exactly an unfamiliar figure to most people.

Sasha was no casual fan. She'd know him anywhere.

She could see his profile from where she stood. Sasha took in the full curve of his shoulder. She could barely make out the shape of his waist underneath his stylishly draped grey blazer. She knew him by his posture too. He had that characteristic confidence and grace in the way he held himself.

She recognised his long, slender legs, though they were mostly obscured by loose-fitting trousers.

Of course she recognised his face as well. Not many people had such arched brows or such a perfectly shaped little nose, did they?

Despite the passing years, his face seemed as animated as it ever was. His playful personality shone through over the top expressions.

Paul's face still had that somehow androgynous appeal; certainly he was a man, yet an elegant one. In his youth, his shadowy eyelashes, beautifully arched brows, and full lips wouldn't have looked out of place on a silent film starlet. Paul was an ideal combination of masculinity and feminine appeal.