Something | Starrison [✖️]

Chapter nine

More or so a filler, tell me some things you want in the story because I'm trying to rack up some ideas

Warning: self-hate

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Yesterday, it seemed like George's troubles went so far away. And it was all because of Rachel. Beautiful Rachel with her beautiful blue eyes and her wonderful voice and just...

He never felt this way before, as cheesy as that sounded. It was still true.

He liked the way she smiled and how her blue eyes would sparkle whenever she laughed. He liked how her hair bounced a bit whenever she walked. He liked the way she dresses and the way she brushes her bangs away from her eyes. He liked the way she was a full-face blusher.

George liked everything about her.

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After a long, warm shower, Rachel decided to look at the mirror.

A full-body mirror was installed in their bathroom. Rachel unwrapped the towel and hung it.

Then she looked.

Girls had breasts. Girls had curves. And girls had... girls had vaginas.

Rachel didn't have any of those three.

She was flat with stuffed bras as her poor excuse for boobs. She only had a little shape. And... And she has... She has a dick.

She could picture how George would react. She bit her lip, her mind overrun with imaginary problems of how George and John would react to her.

What if they react like... Her?

Before she knew it, she was crying. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand and bit her trembling lip.

Not able to face herself anymore, she took the towel and covered herself.

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"How's the saving going, Rach?"

She lifted her head. Her eyes looked drained. Not bright blue like yesterday. "Not so good, Paulie. It'll take me a few years before I could even manage the price."

"Hey," He gently poked her cheek. "What's wrong, babe?"

She shook her head, making some of her bangs fall into her eyes.

"Rachel..."

"It's my body, okay?" Her voice raised. "I fucking hate my body! I have a dick, Paul and I don't have boobs and..." She crumbled down in front of him. "I-I thought I'd accept it already but I can't. I can't!" Her voice cracked at the end. "What would he think of me?"

Paul wrapped his arms around her small body and pulled her into a hug. "Shhh... It's gonna be alright, Rachie."

"No it isn't gonna be alright! I like him so much Paul! But I-I'm scared that... What i-if he thinks of me as a... fag?" Her bottm lip trembled. "What if---"

"Rachel. Starkey. Don't you dare call youself that!" His voice softened when he daw her wince. "You're a girl and that's all that matters. And if George couldn't see that then he's more blind than John! And John's blind as a fucking bat!" He exclaimed.

She sniffed. "B-But..."

"No buts, Rach. And who gives a shit if you have a dick and no boobs? You are the greatest girl I have ever met. You hear me Rach? You. Are. The. Greatest." And Paul meant it. Every single word he meant it.

"And you're the greatest cry pillow," She gestured to his wet shirt. She buried her face in the crook of his neck. "What would I do without you Paul?" She managed a wobbly smile.

He rubbed her back. "Probably be eating gallons of chocolate ice-cream..."

Paul heard her chuckle. "True."

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Since Paul mentioned ice-cream, he offered to go out and get some. Rachel washed her face and randomly grabbed a sweater of Paul's before heading out.

"Two cones of chocolate ice-cream please." He said to the girl. "Thanks, luv." He winked, making the cashier blush and giggle.

Rachel turned and uttered an 'oof!' as she bumped into a guy. She lifted her face, about to apologize until she recognized his face.

"Pete Best." She spat out.

A smug grin formed in the man's face. "Hey Richard."

She gritted her teeth. "It's Rachel."

He shrugged carelessly. "Oops. Sorry, it slipped off my tongue." Rachel glared at him. "How are you, Rachel?"

"Fuck off, Pete." She snapped at him before heading off to find Paul.

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"Hey Rach, I got the ice--- cream?" He furrowed his eyebrows. "What's wrong, luv?"

Rachel grunted but accepted the ice-cream. She gave it a lick. "Pete motherfucking Best is here."

His eyes widened. "Pete's here?" He turned and tried to scan the people lining up. He saw the familiar puff of hair and frowned. "Did he say anything to you?"

"He called me Richard. Even if I was wearing a bloody skirt." She narrowed her eyes at the man and gave an angry bite at her chocolate treat. She winced at how cold it was.

"That fucker," Paul muttered under his breathe. "Biggest homophobe and transphobe I've met in all my fucking life."

"Next to my mum, he is." Rachel added, licking her ice-cream.

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George wanted to ask her on a date.

A proper date.

Maybe not tomorrow but, maybe some day he'd ask her on a date.

"Hey John!"

"What is it, Gear? I'm kinda busy," He replied, nibbling on the end of his pencil.

"Writer's block?" He asked, leaning against the doorway. Judging from the crumpled balls of paper all around him and the stubbed out ciggies, it was pretty obvious.

"What do you want?" He grumbled, round eye glasses perched on his nose.

"I plan on taking Rach on a date. Got any ideas?"

John tapped his chin for a while until a bright lightbulb appeared on top of his head. "Okay, I've got three ideas."

George nodded. "Shoot them."

He raised a finger. "One, expensive dinner aka fancy restaurant." He saw George wrinkle his nose. "Two, steak out. Literally. And three, a cheesy picnic under the stars." John grinned at the last one, knowing oh too well George would pick the last one. "Or should I say... Starkey?"

George pretended to not care and he shrugged. But John saw in his eyes that he was excited.

"Yeah, thanks Johnny." And with that he turned and got out of the room.

John faced his notebook again and tried to brainstorm for good rhymes for his song.

He quietly sang the words. "If I fell in love with... you would you promise to be true and help me understand..."

John wanted this song to be good. Because this wasn't just some nilly willy song he just though over night.

It was a song for Paul.

Then he was struck. "C-Cause I've been in love before and I..." He scribbled out the words in his lazy handwriting. "... found that love was more than just... holding hands..." He whispered, grinning because it was perfect.

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