How to Change the World

Chapter 19

With no hesitation or anxiety, the plane landed at Heathrow airport, on an impossibly sunny day. After a delightful trip to Greece, John, Paul, and close members of their circle, with the exception of George and Ringo who had left earlier, were finally escaping the aircraft that had kept them in such a confined space. The trip left them in an energetic state, feeling closer and more connected as people. They were ready to go back to their homes, write songs, and live in comfort; however the sight outside of their window was unprecedented.

As John and Paul stood from their seats, the sight outside caught Paul's attention. Referring to the blob of reporters and photographers outside the window, Paul made it clear for John to look out the window.

"Christ, I didn't know people were that excited to see us back," Paul said, wondering if he should exit the plane at this point.

Finally processing the crowd, John stared at the outside picture in confusion.

"Holy hell, you sure that's why they're here?," John said, thinking the worst possible scenario.

Fearing his own thoughts, Paul asked, "Well then... what could it be?"

The two men stared at each other, scanning each other's looks, hoping for some doubt that they weren't thinking the same thing. No, it couldn't be true... they couldn't have been... caught.

But it had to be! Perhaps they were too loud in the hotel? Someone blabbed about them on the boat? They were so sloppy that it had to be it! Right? But that was ridiculous, this was just panicked thought, there was a reasonable explanation that they needed to find.

Other friends who were now heading to the exit of the plane, came behind them, stopped by the way the two men looked at the window with shock. Paula approached them from behind, making them jump a little when she said, "Whoa."

"What the hell," Mal said, also coming from behind, "crowd's not for us is it?"

"Not exactly," Paul said to Mal without his gaze averting from the window, "Might be for us." His head tilted in a way that pointed to both him and John, causing a questionable look from Mal. For a second, Mal looked at them as confused as he was, and then the realization hit him. Looking between the two men, his worst fears were confirmed, turning him almost as white as John and Paul were. Oh no.

"Alright alright!" Mal said, trying to calm his friends with a pat on the shoulders, "we don't know that? Could be anything, right?"

"What's going on here?" another voice said, one belonging to their friend Magic Alex, who was also a member on the plane, "Could be what?!"

Paul shook his head, turning back to Mal.

"What in the hell else could this be?"

"Well," Mal tried to speak, "for, um..."

He lost his words, grasping for anything important, anything that it could be, anything but that.

"Fuck," John said, turning to the friends who were looking at the window with them, "Let's just get out of this damn plane, who gives a shit what the reporters say?"

John pushed past the group, picking up his suitcase and making his way towards the exit, which was being opened, courtesy of the crew. He peeked outside to the faces of several journalists, all singing one hymn of "John! John!"

Turning to face those who weren't set on leaving yet, John encouraged them to follow him out.

"C'mon!" John said, waving at everyone now looking at him, "Let's get on with it, then!"