Alive | Starrison [✔️]

39

He was in Paris.

The city of love.

Memories of him and John flashed in his mind over and over again. Even if he closed his eyes, the pictures were still there.

John... Where are you?

And George. Paul was worried sick about him. What was George doing right now? Was he feeding well?

Shit--- Maybe... Maybe finding John was a bad idea. This was all a blind goose chase. John couldn't have possibly turned and if he did, who turned him?

He went into a bar, lowering his head as he entered the building. He heard the twangs of guitars and the booms of the bass. He never really realized how much he missed playing.

"Thank you, thank you! Merci and all that shit.." The lead singer had mumbled the last part but Paul managed to hear it. And when he heard it, his eyes went wide.

The voice. The rasp. The husky, unforgettable voice.

"John?"

The person looked up. Paul couldn't believe it.

"Paul?"

Paul broke into a huge smile. "John!"

John ran down the stage. "Paul!" He grabbed him into a hug. "Paul oh, Paul..."

He gripped on his shirt. "Johnny..." He sniffed. "Johnny I missed you so much..."