Paul Is Dead

A Day In The Life

WILLIAM'S POV

Okay, I know that being asked to become a Beatle out of the blue might sound like an amazing opportunity-- which I at first though it was -- but it was actually exhausting.

These surgeries were really taking a toll on me. As time went on and more differences were found between me and the real Paul, I was getting more and more work done. They were painful, too. And anytime we had to go out in public I had to act like everything was just fine and dandy.

That was another thing that I hadn't given much consideration, the fact that I would actually have to go out into the world as Paul McCartney and have the constant fear that someone would realize I wasn't really him.

It was a very stressful life, not at all the way that I imagined a rock star's life might be.

After we released Rubber Soul, containing all the little clues that it did, we decided to keep it going with the rest of the work that we did as a group, despite what Brian said. John seemed especially excited about it, always coming into the studio with new ideas for clues.

Our next album was going to be a little bit different. We planned on taking our sweet old time on this one, because Rubber Soul had been created and released so quickly. Most all the songs were still a work in progress. The only definite about the album thus far was the cover artwork.

This artwork was going to be illustrated, rather than a photograph. That way it would be near impossible for any fan (or producer) to be able to pick out flaws on my face and body that made it obvious that I wasn't Paul. A German artist named Klaus Voormann was going to draw it for us. He was a man that the Beatles had met during their first trip to Hamburg in 1960, so he was an old friend of theirs. A few pictures would make up a small collage on the cover, which were all to be taken by Robert Whitaker. Whitaker was also asking us to submit a few of our own personal photos to be used, which would work out nicely because we could pick pictures of Paul from when he was still alive rather than ones of me.

The name was still undecided; the band was still having a lot of controversy over it. They wanted to call it Abracadabra, but that name had already been used by another band, which meant it was off limits for us. That left us without any new ideas, so some new ones were starting to float around. Nothing that was seriously considerable yet, though. We weren't even scheduled to begin recording the album until early April of next year, so we had plenty of time. I wasn't worried, and I could tell the rest of the band wasn't either.

Christmas time was rolling around, but things seemed a little different. Sure, everyone was cheerful enough, but something was missing. Paul.

I was still living with Emma, which was becoming less and less uncomfortable by the day. Turns out we actually have a lot in common and we were becoming fast friends. Plus, it had taken me some time to notice how beautiful she really was.

"Do any of your Christmas shopping yet, Billy?" she asked me on one afternoon. We were just lounging around the house. Since Brian noticed that my Paul McCartney acting skills weren't exactly top notch, the Beatles were taking a break from making public appearances for a little while. Ironically enough, Paul had recorded The Beatles' Third Christmas Record with the rest of the group in November, which was scheduled to be issued on December 17, and took some Christmas photos for fans back in America. This would only allow us even more time to stall my first official public appearance.

"Um, only a little," I responded, closing the book I was reading and placing it beside me. "I haven't exactly had much time with everything that's been going on."

She nodded in understanding and for a moment there was a silence.

"I've gotten a few already," she said, turning to face me. It was obvious that she was looking for conversation. "Mostly just family gifts. I was going to start to buy gifts for friends this week. You know, all the guys in the band and all."

She took a pause.

"I actually already bought Paul's gift, but now..."

Her voiced trailed off, and I was surprised to look up and see that she had tears in her eyes. I hesitated before I spoke -- I wasn't very good at comforting people.

"Hey, it's alright," I said a bit awkwardly, getting up from my spot on my chair and walking over to her. I sat down carefully and put a (hopefully) reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"I just still can't believe that he's really gone, you know?" she said with a sniffle.

"I know, I'm really sorry Emma. Life can be cruel sometimes."

She didn't answer, and instead turned to face me and buried her face into my shoulder. She let out a few heavy, devastated sobs before she quickly recoiled and looked away. Her cried subsided.

It was silent a moment before anyone spoke.

"I'm sorry," she said in a voice that was barely audible. "I lost control for a second there. It won't happen again."

I was stunned silent. I didn't know what to say, and even if I did I don't think I would have been able to speak. After a few seconds, Emma wiped away her last few tears before she got up and slowly walked out of the room. I sat there by myself and tried to process what had just happened. My skin was still tingling in the spot that she rested her head. I suddenly felt a surge of confidence.

Go back in there, Billy! Go for it! Do this right!

Before I could talk myself out of it, I jumped up and ran into the direction that Emma had gone. I found her outside of the apartment window, sitting on the fire escape with her face buried in her hands.

"Emma," I breathed, and she turned my way with a surprised expression on her face. I grabbed her face in my hands and squeezed my eyes shut as I pulled her in towards me and planted a big kiss on her lips.

At first, she seemed shocked and stood almost frozen as I kissed her. After a moment, though, her muscles relaxed and I felt the force of her lips against mine. I breathed a sigh of relief, glad that she hadn't rejected the kiss.

It deepened, and she tangled her fingers into my hair. I held my breath as I moved my hands to her waist, and she sighed in comfort.

But it ended almost as quickly as it began. She pulled away with a jolt.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry! I-I can't believe..." she trailed off, pacing around a bit. "I need to get fresh air. I'm going out." She jumped back inside through the window and I heard her as she hurried out the door, not even looking back.

I sat still for a while as I thought about what had just happened, feeling a mixture of surprise and confusion. I really messed up.

Just another day in the life of Paul McCartney, I guess.