TBS Imagines

Caught Red Hounded (Paul) 💜

Face in hands, shoulders slumped, a deep frown on my face and a blank stare. Clear signs I was glum while sitting with my friends. Usually I'd be pretty hyped, but John was here. Don't get me wrong, he was a cute boy. He was talented. But he was a dick, which made me not like him. Didn't help, too, that he had fucked every girl I knew - excluding myself of course. Which meant, lucky me, I was his next target.

Apparently, I was a pretty girl. Soft hair, pretty eyes or whatever. Paler. Tall, medium figure. And I guess I was pretty. I'll admit it. I liked myself enough. I was a good fit for a girl like me. Unfortunately for the both of us, a girl like me hated a guy like him, but he was determined. Which made me hate him even more. So John Lennon sat by me and scooted close. He draped his arm around my shoulders and drank beer. I leaned forward, my butt on the edge of my seat, eyes facing the ceiling, head forward, tongue pressed against the inside of my cheek. My knees crossed and my right foot bounced impatiently in the air. He kept playing with the ends of my hair and I kept tugging my head so they fell away. He'd grimace at me then turn back to my friends like nothing had happened and laugh.

Ugh.

Rolling my eyes caused my gaze to land on Paul McCartney. Hm. Double groan. As Paul caught my quick look and shot a small smile in my direction, I stood, snagging my guitar from the back of my chair. "I'll see you guys later," I announced. I smiled painfully and turned to leave.

John stood up too. "I'll walk you ou-"

"That's-" I snapped, spinning on my heels to face him and holding out my hands. "Okay," I said softer. My eyes caught Paul's once more before I turned back around, putting my guitar on my back, leaving my hands free to cross my arms over my chest, walking away. I didn't want to be here. Anywhere but here. No one followed me, but I could feel eyes burning into my skull. My friends' more likely than John. They believe that as a virgin I was 'lame'. Or maybe they were just jealous because they'd given theirs up so easily. I don't know. I was over pressured to have sex with John from them, mainly. He didn't know this. Fair enough to him, John Lennon did know one thing - boundaries. I just didn't know exactly where they were. I was afraid that he would be encouraged if he knew they were pressuring me. So I tricked them into not telling him. It had been a long, complicated process but it had worked. They hadn't said anything and he stayed the same, not deterred but also not encouraged. I guess I was smart like that.

Thinking of my friends and the unfortunate turn out of the day, my mind landed the same place it always did.

In all honesty, I had a crush. I don't know if that's what kept me virtuous but all the same I had one. I had an enormous crush on none other than Mr. Paul McCartney, John's bet friend, who had been the only real friend I'd had back in that room. Which was... bad. Even if he did like me, he knew what John was doing and would very unlikely be falling in love with me anytime soon. I mean, why had I even fallen for him? Fallen for a boy who's best friends with the perv who's trying to get in my pants? Not like I didn't have enough to worry about, being pressured by everyone who's opinion matters to me that to let John have his way. Yet another reason why Paul would be out of his mind to like me.

Heaving a sigh, I plopped onto the sidewalk and busted into tears the second I got outside, making sure the door was closed. Luckily for me, I had my guitar. The only thing that had ever successfully been able to calm and soothe me in a time like this while I was in such a hopeless, messy state was singing and playing guitar. It was magical- I'd swear it today and I've sworn it in the past, and I'll swear it forever on. I pulled it into my lap and let my fingers lightly tickled the strings. Then I sang, breathing deeply first so that I could start.

Angie by Rolling Stone popped in my head, so I began to play it. "Angie Angie, when will those clouds all disappear? Angie Angie, where will it lead us from here?" I stopped. No. I didn't know the chords passed that. Frustrated, I stood and began walking, holding my guitar in my arms still. I walked slowly, going towards my house, strumming.