Paul Mccartney Imagines

18

Brian's office reeked of cigarettes. Paul could barely see through the haze as he squared off with their manager. The rest of the lads had cleared out hours ago, leaving Paul to duke it out with Brian alone.

"Come on, Brian," Paul groaned, running his fingers through his mop-top. "What's the big deal? We've been together for ages now."

Brian pinched the bridge of his nose. "Paul, we've been over this. It's just not happening, alright?"

"But why not?" Paul shot back, his voice rising. "What, am I supposed to leave her behind while we gallivant across the bloody world?"

"Look," Brian said, trying to keep his cool, "I get it. She means a lot to you. But you've got to think about the bigger picture here. The fans, the press—they want you lot to be available, yeah?"

Paul scoffed. "Available? You mean miserable and alone. Christ, Brian, don't I deserve a bit of happiness in all this madness?"

"It's not that simple—"

"To hell with simple!" Paul slammed his hand on Brian's desk, making the ashtray rattle. "This isn't about the others. It's about me and her. She keeps me sane, Brian. She's the only thing that makes bloody sense when everything else is going mental."

Brian's face softened a bit, but he wasn't backing down. "I hear you, Paul. I do. But there's more at stake than just your relationship. This tour is a bloody circus. The schedule, the crowds, the press—it's non-stop. Having her there will only make things harder."

Paul paced the small office, fuming. "Harder than what? Living in a bloody fishbowl? Is it too much to ask for one normal thing in my life? Someone who gives a toss about me, and not just Paul McCartney, the sodding Beatle?"

He stopped, locking eyes with Brian. "You know what it's like out there. The birds are screaming their heads off, and the reporters are hounding us. We barely have time to take a piss between shows. She's the only bit of peace I've got. You can't ask me to give that up."

Brian was quiet momentarily, seeming to consider Paul's words.

"I'm not asking you to chuck her," he said, his voice softer. "But the road... it's no place for a relationship, Paul. You'll be putting her through hell. Long nights, no privacy, press breathing down her neck. Is that really what you want for her?"

Paul's jaw clenched. He knew Brian had a point. The last thing he wanted was to drag her into all that madness. But the thought of facing it all without her by his side...

"I hear you, Brian," Paul said, slightly deflating. "But I'm not going without her. I need her there if I'm going to face that circus every night. She's tougher than you think. And if you don't let her come, maybe I won't go either."

Brian's eyebrows shot up. "Are you threatening to quit the bloody tour?"

"I'm not threatening anything," Paul said, his voice steady now. "I'm telling you how it is. She comes, or I don't."

The two stared each other down, the silence stretching out between them. Finally, Brian let out a long sigh.

"Alright," he muttered, sounding defeated. "I'll see what I can do. But Paul... this is a hell of a risk you're taking."

Paul nodded, relief washing over him. "I know. But she's worth it."

Paul slumped into the leather chair across from Brian's desk, the fight draining out of him. He ran a hand over his face, suddenly feeling the weight of the past few hours.

"Look, Brian," he said, his voice softer now. "I know I'm being a right pain in the arse. But you've got to understand... this isn't just some bird I'm keen on."

Brian leaned back in his chair, eyeing Paul carefully. "Go on, then."

Paul took a deep breath. "When I'm with her, it's like... I don't know, like I can breathe again. All this madness, the screaming fans, the endless bloody touring fades away when I'm with her. She sees me, Brian. Not the cute Beatle. Just... me."

A flicker of understanding crossed Brian's face. He'd seen fame's toll on the lads, especially Paul. I am always the perfectionist, always trying to keep it all together.

"And when she's not around?" Brian prodded gently.

Paul's eyes darted to the window, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's like I'm drowning. The pressure, the expectations... sometimes I feel like I will crack. But then I think of her, and it's like... like I've got a lifeline, y'know?"

Brian nodded slowly, a hint of concern in his eyes. "I had no idea it was that serious, Paul."

"Yeah, well..." Paul shrugged, trying to play it off. "S'not exactly the sort of thing you bring up at band meetings, is it?"

A chuckle escaped Brian's lips, breaking some of the tension. "I suppose not."

They sat silently for a moment, the gravity of the situation settling over them both.

"Alright," Brian said finally, leaning forward. "Let's say we do this. How do you propose we handle it? The press will have a field day if they catch wind of it."

Paul perked up, hope flickering in his eyes. "We'll be discreet. She can travel separately and stay in different hotels. Hell, I'll sneak out in disguise if I have to. Knowing she's nearby, I can see her between the chaos – that's all I need."

Brian drummed his fingers on the desk, his mind working through the logistics. "And the other lads? What about them?"

"I'll talk to them," Paul said quickly. "They'll understand. And if they don't... well, tough. They've got their ways of coping. This is mine."

Another long silence stretched between them. Paul held his breath, watching Brian's face for any sign of what he was thinking.

Finally, Brian let out a long sigh. "Alright, McCartney. We'll give it a go. But I'm warning you – one whiff of this in the papers, and we'll have to reconsider. Understood?"

A grin split Paul's face, relief flooding through him. "Crystal clear, boss. You won't regret this, I promise."

As Paul left, Brian called, "And Paul?"

"Yeah?"

Brian's face softened a rare show of emotion from their usually stoic manager. "Take care of yourself, lad. And her. This life... it's not easy on anyone."

Paul nodded, suddenly solemn. "I know, Brian. Thank you. Really."

As he left the office, Paul felt lighter than he had in months. The tour ahead still loomed large, a whirlwind of shows and screaming fans. But now, with the promise of her presence, it didn't seem so daunting.

He stepped onto the bustling London street, a spring in his step. For the first time in ages, he felt like he could face whatever came next – as long as she was by his side.