Live & Let Die

Please Don't Be Long

I was peeved.

And that was to put it simply.

George, Ringo and I had been waiting in the recording studio for over an hour and Paul McCharmly still hadn't been bothered with showing up yet.

Ringo was fiddling around with the hi-hats, sitting behind his drum set and humming a little tune that was bound to get stuck in my head later. George was tapping his pen rapidly in concentration as he looked down at a notebook he had laid out in front of him on a table. And every single moment of waiting was pure torture.

Did Paul seriously think that whatever he was doing was more important than recording the songs we had prepared? We couldn't do a thing without him because he had to play or sing something on every song we had planned!

Paul better have a very good reason for being this late.

"If he doesn't show up in ten minutes, I'll have Mal go and see what's going on," Brian said quickly.

He looked at the wall clock again in a fidgety sort of way, then walked over to George Martin to talk business. It wasn't like that was going to make the git come any faster.

"No. If he doesn't show up in five minutes, I'll go out and personally drag him in," I snapped, mercilessly strumming away at my guitar.

Brian gave me a scornful look but I knew he wasn't too serious about it. It was in the way his eyes weren't angry like the rest of him.

I stuck my tongue out, playing even louder than before.

Ringo looked up and took a ciggy out of his mouth. Why hadn't I thought of getting one? Maybe I wouldn't be as tense as I am now . . .

"Calm down, Johnny Boy. He's probably stuck in traffic. You know he was out with Jane earlier," Ringo reasoned.

He took another drag and shrugged his shoulders. How could he be so calm? I feel like ripping something apart. Or acting like Keith Moon and blowing up a drum set. Not to name who's, but I think I have a good one in mind.

"But he's taking forever. Even Jane would know this is too long. Maybe John should go," George muttered as he stared at the notebook he had out. "Paul would listen."

George started to write something down, though after a minute whatever he wrote down didn't look good enough. He started scribbling it out furiously with a scowl, along with saying words Georgie isn't allowed to say.

"See, two against one. What do you say Eppy?" I asked with feigned politeness.

Brian stopped talking to Martin and gave it barely a seconds thought before shaking his head. Was I really that predictable or was he that set on what he planned out? Most likely the last one.

"John, you'll only go and make a big argument out of it," Brian said simply and turned back to George Martin.

I didn't hear the whole conversation but apparently, doing a whole lot of nothing in a long period of time wasn't good.

"I would not!" I whined in a childish voice and batted my eyelashes.

I hope Paul's pouty look training had worked its magic. It cost me a bit of self-respect from my only son.

"John, I said no."

Great, the look didn't work. At least Paul owes me money now.

"But I can do it! I won't do anything! Promise!"

George snorted at my comment and I shot him an irritated look. He merely shrugged it off, going back to writing and crumpling up a piece of paper he tore out of the notebook.