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Shaped

John stared up at the clock, watching as seconds passed. The way time worked now intrigued him very much.
Something was up with the clock, too. It didn't seem correctly moving or working.
John had been silent for ten minutes straight. He would figure out the problem even if it took him a day. It mattered.
Neither Brian Epstein nor George Martin had chosen to break his spell, until Brian asked,
"Would you like anything to eat at all?"
John quickly turned around.
"I've been starving for hours at a time! Of course I want something to eat!"
"What'd that be, then?"
"Cornflakes and Bird's Custard. It's got to be that combination and strictly what I mentioned. Oh, and English Breakfast. Two bags," John requested intensely, still staring at the clock.
"I still have to figure out what's going on with the clock, though. Something intriguing is happening and I'm not sure what."
Brian scoffed gently at the reply, but still followed through. He knew that he had to do what was asked, and went to making the food.
John's eyes lit up in a matter of seconds.
"The clock—it's not right."
"Hasn't it been right for ten minutes?" George frowned, also looking up at the clock.
"No. It hasn't been right all this time, and it's so subtle. It's skipping, and then it's slowing down. It skips by two seconds and then waits."
"Do you know why this might be happening?"
"Well, I guess time is more complicated than I thought it was, and that this clock is just going as it should," John explained blankly.
"But, time doesn't move that way, does it?"
George Martin was more confused now, and more involved in the situation. He had a need to know what was happening. A need to know why John had gone for so long, yet didn't know.
"It hasn't. It only sta—Paul!"
Paul had appeared in the suite, and looked more rattled than before. Temporal travel had a larger effect if done minimally, and it happened quite rarely to him. He wasn't used to it.
John immediately embraced him in a friendly manner, and because he was worried about him. He hadn't seen him in some time.
"Are you alright?"
"'Think so. Really takes it all out of you, doesn't it?" Paul gave a slight laugh, and let himself fall onto the floor on his back. "Hello, George," he waved to the producer, who waved concernedly back.
"Is that Brian over there?" Paul asked, pointing towards the room's far side.
"It is. Now, get up, our clock's acting up."
John pulled Paul to his feet before he could produce any sounds or movements, pulling him over to where the clock was positioned.
"What's happening?" Paul attempted to have John confirm that what he heard was true, not understanding why or how a clock would be messed up.
"The clock keeps skipping and then waiting."
John dropped Paul into a chair, and turned him towards the clock.
"Like it's hunting, that's what it looks like. Pouncing for prey," Paul suggested, frowning.
The room fell silent.
"You really suppose it's like that, Paul?" Brian asked as he turned around.
"I do. It'd make sense wouldn't it?"
"It might," John said quietly. "'Could be why George and Richie aren't anywhere right now. You were with them, right?"
"That's right. It all seemed fine when it happened, but I'm not sure what changed."
Paul's eyes landed on the clock once more. He was equally interested in it as John was.
"Either one of them got distracted, or something worse happened," Paul spoke worriedly, his mood evident on his face. John kept his thoughts to himself. He needn't cause any panic to others—or end up heavily panicking himself.
He still knew that the whole situation was ending up worse than he thought it would be.
Time made no decisions. It did as shaped.
Its flow was already disrupted heavily, and Paul's presence gave no help.
"Didn't you say that a phone or whatever it was was stuck in your pocket?"
John turned towards Paul.
"Yes, that did happen, but the phone exploded and a universe appeared in the pocket," Paul replied casually.
"You're right. It did happen, and it will not help anything, and now I'm scared because the rest of us haven't even appeared at all which is very, very worrying," John agreed, yet did very much go against what he was actually trying to do.
He couldn't stay calm.
George Martin, who'd been observing the scenario ever since it started, couldn't help but to question the logistics.
"You asked Paul if something had gone wrong with his pocket, and then proceeded to remember the occasion, is that right, John?"
"Yes, that is right. It's a newer memory, but it happened around a few more than 60 years in the future, and when I was 20 years old."
No more questions were asked. It would be too complicated, and everyone in the room knew it.