It was 9:15pm. Paul was sitting at the end of his bed in the hotel room he was staying at. He was sharing this room with George, who he always felt more comfortable around, especially when it came to sharing personal space. Despite this, George was nowhere to be seen, although Paul did suspect him to be down in the bar, chatting up some bird. Paul was deep in his own thoughts. He did this often, sometimes he'd fade out of the real world and into his own little one. He'd perhaps be thinking of lyrics for a new song, perhaps he was thinking about his family back at home but Paul did this mainly to escape reality for a while. Sometimes the stress of touring and screaming fans got a little to much for him. However, tonight Paul felt that the comfort from his fellow band members may be slightly better than being alone, so he grabbed a few bottles of beer from the mini fridge and quickly headed next door.
John and Ringo often shared a room too. Maybe it was because they were the two oldest out of the band, who knows, but no one cared to much about it. Paul loudly knocked the door. The reason being that both Ringo and John were known to bringing girls back to their hotel room so he wanted to be on the safe side. No one answered, so he let himself in. Surprisingly the door wasn't locked which is strange as there have been occasions of fangirls finding out which hotel room they were staying in and trying to kick down the door just to get to them. He walked into an empty room, just the muffled sound of the radio at the end of the bed greeted him. He noticed their jackets weren't on the rack so he assumed they went outside to have a cigarette. He put down the bottles of beer and cleaned up a deck of cards which were scattered all over the floor, this was probably the result of John loosing at a game of cards.
He closed their room door and in the hall he stood there frozen for a few seconds. His hotel room door was wide open. He peeked in but couldn't see anything or anyone, and also nothing had been moved or taken. He thought maybe he hadn't locked it properly. He shut the door quietly, as he was still feeling particularly cautious. He once again sat on the bed. This time he flung his head back and stared at the ceiling. He was considering going down to the bar but wasn't really wanting to get drunk as they all had a big to interview tomorrow morning. Paul became aware that he wasn't alone, he heard what seemed to be someone moving around in the bathroom. All of a sudden, a quiet, lighthearted giggle came from the bathroom. He jumped to his feet and raced in. George was lying face down on the ground with a bottle of what looked like whiskey lying next to him and the liquid from the bottle running down the bathroom floor. He was crying.
"George, Jesus Christ what happened to you", Paul yelled as he tried to get the young Liverpudlian to sit up straight.
"Paulie, paulie, ah macca, what's wrong with me, why doesn't anyone love me, it's funny, I'm so alone", George whimpered, and as he did Paul managed to sit him up.
"What's that supposed to mean" Paul said as he sat down beside George.
"I was with this girl earlier on, she was so beautiful and I don't know what happened, she just got up and left. Do I have an off putting personality Paulie?"
Paul took a deep breath in and laughed for a moment.
"George are you seriously crying over one bird, stop being ridiculous, she probably had somewhere to be"
At that moment, George began to smile ever so slightly but played it off as a yawn.
Both of them sat there in silence. Paul in fact enjoyed the silence because it gave him time to think, think about the situation and what he could do to help his friend. George slowly leaned his head on Paul's shoulder. George felt protected by Paul and he always had. It had nothing to do with the fact that Paul was older than him, but Paul always felt that George was his responsibility, after all, it was Paul that got George into the band and if anything were to happen to George, Paul would feel responsible for it.
Paul pulled George to his feet and dragged him downstairs for a smoke, which they both so desperately needed. They decided to take the lift as George was in no state to walk down the many flights of stairs. Just as Paul pushed the button for the ground floor. George heard footsteps and laughter coming from behind him. George looked round and saw the girl he was talking to earlier with another guy. The girl and guy both sniggered and pointed at him, then they both walked into what he assumed to be her hotel room. George felt as though he'd been stabbed in the heart a million times. He barely knew the girl but he began to feel incredibly jealous and thought he was not good enough for her. George broke free from Paul's arm, as Paul was the one helping him walk. He ran down the hall but only got half way before he fell to the ground crying. Paul sprinted to him and held him. Paul had no idea what had happened but he comforted him. He knew he'd had a rough night. George leaned his head on Pauls chest, and Paul could feel his tears dampen his shirt.
"Paul, I'm worthless, no one will look at me twice, I give up"
Paul didn't reply because he knew it was a lie, although he didn't know how to respond. He thought it was best for George to let out how he was feeling. He pulled Georges head away from his chest and onto his shoulder and hugged him for what seemed to be forever. George held him closer after each time He tried to pull away. George was shaking and cold so Paul took him back to the hotel room.
He put him in his bed, put a blanket over him, took his shoes and jacket off and left to go for that smoke.
"Paul", George shouted from his bed.
"What George, I'm just going for a smoke I won't be five minutes", George didn't want him to leave, even for five minutes. He felt alone.
"Please stay with me", George whispered.
Paul sighed and gave in and so he sat on George's bed. George began to reminisce about his school years with Paul and how life was easier back then.
"You know paulie, I would never have thought we would make it this far"
"What do you mean", Paul said confusingly.
"Like as a band, I'm just a shy lad from a small English city, I mean, I never would have thought people would've wanted to hear me play silly old guitar and sing a few songs"
Paul smiled at him. They looked at each other for a second or two before George started laughing hysterically.
"What on earth are you laughing at now", Paul asked.
"I seriously love you macca, I would have never came this far without you, you know that don't you?"
Paul knew he was really drunk, because George hardly ever said things like this. Paul fell back onto the bed and lay beside his younger friend. Both breathing in and out simultaneously. George's eyes gently closed and so Paul quietly left for a cigarette. Before closing the door, he looked and saw George smiling and trying not to let out laughter. Paul knew he wasn't asleep, he also knew that George wasn't as drunk as he had made out to be. He closed the door quietly and went downstairs. Perhaps George just needed some comfort and reassurance from his friend because even the young, lead guitarist from an extremely popular band can feel unwanted.
