The Little Twister Girl (A Beatles Fanfiction)

Tell Me Why (Chapter 3)

I wipe my tears softly, but quickly, as I hear someone laugh at the other end of the wall.

"Who's there?" I manage to say, without sounding like a total mess. Who would eavesdrop on me and Paul?

"Don't worry your pretty head, Paulie's already told me everything before." A voice says, sounding a bit rough and squeaky.

John enters the kitchen, emerging from behind the wall.

"John! How could you?" I ask, ready to pound him for being so rude.

"Why are you crying?"

John says, looking at me, and then going to light a smoke. I look at him before responding. He's got a kid in this house and he's smoking.

"Why are you asking?" I ask, trying to control my agitation as John mocks me, a playful smirk plastered on his cynical face.

"It's silly. Cynthia does enough of that shit anyways."

I furrow my eyebrows.

"People are allowed to feel emotions, John."

"Just like how I feel a girl?"

John starts to laugh at himself, leaning against a wall as the cigarette plays gently on his lips.

I clear my throat softly and look away. He's so crude, although I could tell that much from his interviews.

"Why were you there, John?" I ask. "Paul and I were talking in private."

John laughs even more.

"There is no privacy with Paul, trust me. Try instead a shop, or the  ocean for some privacy with Paul."

Why is John being so rude to me?

"I see. I'll keep that in mind."

"I'm just looking after ya."

John says, now looking at me.

"Paul can do some heartbreaking stuff if you end up catching some feelings..."

I look back, not daring to break eye contact.

"Wouldn't even thinking of catching any."

John smirks.

"Good girl."

I don't understand why John is befriending me, but it intimidates me. I look away from him as I hear him snicker.

"Anyways, since Paul's food was basically shit..."

I laugh a bit, and John smiles.

"George, Ringo and I are going out. Care to come with? Paul is with Cynthia, taking care of Julian."

I look over John. He seems like a hard guy but maybe his intentions are pure. I quickly shake my head, knowing full well about men like him. They only care about their own self satisfaction.

"Alright, I'll take your offer. By the way, I don't drink."

John laughs.

"Don't worry, I'll do enough for the both of us."

I stand up quickly, as John approaches me, wiping some more of my tears.

"And if Paul ever makes a pretty girl like you cry again, I just might have to kill him."

I laugh slightly uncomfortably as I inch away from him. He smells like whisky and booze.

"Thanks John. You're too kind."

John flashes me one of his John Lennon grins, and walks to the front door. He opens the closet, and throws me a nice red jacket.

"It's Cyn's. But for the time being, use it. It gets cold at night."