Nobody Wants To Know Him

X - (Just Like) Starting Over

Saturday 2nd December 1972
Liverpool, England
12.01am

What did I wanna know about John? I suppose there was a lot I didn't know. But where to start? The basic stuff, I suppose. Favourite colour, age, full name, et cetera.

I shrugged, shoulder pressing against his. "Dunno. Start off simple. How old are ye?"

He smiled. "Yer not meant to ask someone their age, y'know."

Playfully, I gave him a light punch on his arm. "Go on, tell me."

"Thirty-two. My turn now. What's yer full name?"

"______ ______ ______. What's yers?"

"Tis John Winston Lennon. Now, what's yer favourite colour?"

We continued on, asking questions back and forth.

So far, I'd learnt his favourite colour was green, he loved cats, he was raised an only child* and was a choir boy as well as a boy scout. He went to Quarry Bank then to the College of Art here in Liverpool.

"Did ye date anyone in school?" John questioned turning to face me.

I shook my head. "Not properly." It wasn't totally a lie. The longest I'd been with a guy was a little over two months. He was a real cunt, that guy. Caught him with Tim's younger sister one day. He wasn't happy about that to say the least. Nor was I.

"Did you?"

"Mm... a couple. I had a couple birds. Never lasted long with them though. Was a right daft thing when I was younger. Not just in me teens either, well into my twenties. Real immature fucker. I like to think I've changed since then."

I nodded. I couldn't help but wonder what he would've been like in his teenage years.

"What about after school? Were you with anyone then?"

"Well," he began, pausing to think. "There was this girl. But that didn't last." He didn't elaborate any further. "Is yer old man working?"

"Yeah," I confirmed, turning to face him. His shoulder was still pressed against mine, we were still very close.

He too turned to face me, and I could feel my heart rate pick up before I turned away, letting out a small shaky breath.

I had no idea what was happening to me. I was never like this, I was normally able to compose myself around people I liked.

Rising to his feet, he extended his arms behind him, stretching. This exposed a small section of his midriff to me, and I couldn't help but stare.

He must've noticed as he didn't put his arms back down, letting his hands rest on the back of his head, leaving his top raised, looking down at me.

As I looked up, his eyes met mine, and he started laughing, extending a hand to me.

"Come, let's do something."

It was silly, he was leading me around my own house. I followed him up the staircase, hand still in his as he dragged me into my room.

"Ye said ye got a guitar?" He released my hand, throwing himself onto my bed, resting on his side.

I nodded, walking over to where it was. I opened the case, pulling it out to hand to him.

"Not tuned. Can't do it meself."

He lifted the sound hole up to his ear, twisting the pegs at the top as he plucked each string individually. He went through all six carefully, before setting it on his lap and giving it a few strums.