Something Else-A Beatles' Story

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Marianne's point of view

I walked with John, once again lost in my thoughts. I was thinking that maybe I could get the chance to perform with him one day and not only assist at gigs. Of course, Mimi wouldn't approve of this, but maybe... No, that's foolish—or maybe this was idealistic. John wouldn't want me to take his guitar, and I don't have one myself.

"Marianne, get out of your thoughts; we've arrived," John said. Effectively, we were there. He went his way with his friends, and I went mine—alone. A bit more than a month has passed since the confrontation with the Teddys, and my wound has completely healed. In fact, there was still a scar, although barely noticeable, but I didn't mind. I haven't met Paul again, but I hoped I would soon. He was—and probably still is—a nice guy.

That's when I saw some Teddy Boys. Obviously, when I saw them, they were close enough to see me. We all realised that we were those that fought last month, so we all ran—they after me, and I for my life. It may have been five minutes since we began running, and I was exhausted. I felt I couldn't continue any longer when I literally tripped over someone, making us both fall.

"I'm—I'm rea... really... sorry," I said, short on breath. I lifted my head up, looking behind my shoulder—they were still chasing me. I looked back in front of me and realised I had run into Paul.

"Are you alright, dear? You look panicked," he said, truly concerned.

"I—I'm in some—" I tried to breathe, unsuccessfully. He looked me in the eyes, softly putting his hands on my shoulders, which calmed me. "I'm afraid—for my life, I mean." I managed to say. He then saw the Teddy Boys and immediately understood what I meant.

"Get up," he said after he stood up himself. I took the hand he showed me, and, at the exact same moment I was standing, the boys were there. "Please leave her alone," Paul said calmly in his Scouse accent.

"And who are you, her boyfriend?" said one of the Teddys mockingly.

"..." Paul didn't answer for a few seconds, during which he stared at the boys. "Well," he started answering, grabbing my hand, "that's the matter—I am." He was saying it seriously, putting an arm around my shoulders to hold me closer.

My pursuers looked pretty shocked, but one still said, "Oh, you should've told us earlier! We swear, we won't touch that bird again." And with that disgusting sentence, they left. Finally.