Go away, George

Chapter 12

George sat opposite me, his knee's brushing against mine as he shovelled another fork-full of mashed potato into his mouth. Ringo sat to my left, playing on angry birds again but this time it was the star wars edition. He had already finished his food and was clearly bored at the conversations being uttered around the table. John sat to the left of George, and his plate was clean apart from a small piece of broccoli he had decided not to eat. He didn't seem too phased at the fact me and George were now dating again; in fact he was still as cheery and happy as he was before. Paul sat the other side of George and poured a generous helping of thick gravy over the remainder of his mashed potato.

"So why are you a vegetarian?" George asked suddenly, breaking the awkward silence as he nibbled at a chunk of pork.

"I just don't think it's right to kill animals just to satisfy our taste buds." I answered. "I can survive without meat, there are plenty of alternatives."

"You seem quite opinionated on the subject." Paul spoke. It was the first time he had said anything this afternoon.

I smiled. "I'd be a pretty rubbish vegetarian if I wasn't."

Paul nodded in response and ate some more of his drowned-in-gravy potato.

"YES!" Ringo shouted in an excited tone. "I'VE UNLOCKED THE LAST LEVEL OF THE GAME!"

Smirking, I looked over his shoulder at the stupidly-addictive game. "Uh no Ringo, you've unlocked the last level of part one. There are ten parts."

Ringo blinked. "Are you kidding me? I spent so long on this stupid game and I still haven't finished?"

I patted his shoulder comfortingly. "Bad luck bro."

When everybody had finished their food, I excused myself from the table. I felt really terrible for what I was about to do. But it had to be done. I peered around at the four guys enjoying each others company; I didn't belong here. I ran up the winding stairs and into George's room. I'd spotted the old, battered suitcase underneath his dark oak wardrobe a few days ago, but I didn't think it would come to this. I pulled it out and threw it on the large bed, causing it to bounce slightly. I cautiously peeled it open and filled it with my original clothes I had worn the day I passed out at the doctors, aligning the doc martens carefully at the side so the case would still close. I then folded some of the clothes George had given me and placed them in too. I picked up a cherry cola and some pre-packed sandwiches I had stolen from the fridge earlier and added them to the suitcase before closing it and fastening the golden buckles that had started to rust slightly. I doubt George would mind me 'borrowing' his suitcase, to be honest I think he'd mind more about the fact I was leaving.

Yes, I had decided to leave. It was great being with The Beatles, it really was. They were my favourite band and they were all so lovely (Paul not so much) and we had a lot of fun. But ever since I had met them I had only caused grief. Because of the embarrassing fact that I had a crush on every one of them, it was impossible to live with them. The first day I was there I had John on top of me and kissed him softly, and then hours later I was being seduced and kissed by George. I had led John on to think we had something when in reality it was nothing more than a few kisses and hugs. I had also ignored George's interest in me and chased after Paul McCartney, oblivious of the fact he didn't like me one bit. And then I had started seriously dating George after nearly being robbed, because I realised he was sweet and quite good looking. Then at a crazy party I had broken up with him as I was upset and seriously drunk. I had started showing interest in John again even though I knew I didn't like him that way, and then ditched him and got back with George. Do you realise how terrible all that sounds? I sounded like a flirt. Much much worse than a flirt, in fact. I bet each of their opinions on me were degrading and negative. Even if they didn't notice it, I was messing up their happy lives. Not only that I was messing up mine too. I couldn't live with this. I couldn't live in the same house as four beautifully complex musicians who I had obsessed over for years. It was just impossible. And even when I think about it now, there was nothing else I could've done. I had to go.