paper crown (been rewritten better under the name "Wonderwall - mclennon")

chapter 15

John pov

I moped through my empty home. Picking up a bottle of strong wine on my way through the kitchen before eventually clinging myself onto my king sized bed. I took a swing of my wine as I let my eyes close.

There it goes. I took another mouthful of my wine as I opened my eyes again. To say it was painful was an understatement. I just felt like all my hope had been ripped from me. I had been so hopeful. After the kiss I thought he loved me back. He smiled at me. A pretty huge contrast from a few minutes ago where my macca full on ran from me.

Almost everything in my room reminded me of him. The guitar he got me when I was 17 was resting against the wardrobe. I still played it occasionally, despite having much higher quality one's now. The memory was just so special to me.
The rain soaked envolopes were left crumpled on my bed as well. They looked so depressing. All tattered and worn when they should have been held tightly in Paul's hands as he wrapped his arms around me in strawberry fields.

It wasn't meant to go like this at all. I was so confident in everything going well. Paul was meant to say he loved me back and we were meant to be falling asleep together. I shouldn't be falling asleep alone with a bottle of wine.

But here we were.

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There was a huge pain in my stomach. I was going to be sick. Right now. Shit.

Quickly I threw myself out of bed, letting my empty wine bottle fall onto the carpet as I sprinted to the en suite with mere seconds to go before I threw up into the toilet. I felt like utter shit. What had even happened last night?

Oh yeah. Paul had left me.

I can't fucking believe McCartney! A simple fucking 'no' would have been fine he didn't have to sprint off and leave me alone. Real fucking shitty of him.

The clock on the counter displayed 5am. Well I wasn't going to be going back to sleep anytime soon now. Not now I've got all riled up over paul mccartney and his stupid fucking attitude and his fucking beautiful face and his...ugh i can't believe him.

I needed some fresh air. I need a walk.

I cursed myself for sleeping in such uncomfortable clothes but I couldn't gather up the energy to change or really care that much right now. I'm so pissed.
My coat was snatched from the hat stand before I slammed the door shut. The neighbours would have woken up probably but I didn't care. They were the last thing on my mind right now.

A lit cigarette hung from between my lips as I tried to clear my mind of everything that had happened. My thoughts were in what I could only describe as a huge knot. All needing to be sorted out and straightened again. Everything was quiet save for some tweeting bird's and the occasional car engine. It was too early for most people right now. It'll get busier later.

*7am*

My last cigarette was crushed under my boots. It had been hours since I left my house and I was getting hungry. Not to mention the amount of people out by now would make my way home a lot longer. It'd be a right hassle to go home any later that now. I wanted more wine too.
Solemnly I made my way through the square. It was so much more lively now than it had been 3 hours ago when I first came out to clear my mind. Which for your information, hasn't been cleared much. It was really just sorrow I was feeling. I couldn't get rid of it.

A few reporters caught my eye as I passed a paper shop. All of which ran towards me with both their notepads and newspapers in hand.
Without thinking I lifted up my hand to them to show them to leave me alone, none of whom listened.

"Is Paul McCartney ok?"

One asked.

"What do you mean? Of course he is!"

I replied. Honestly I wasn't in the mood to talk to some reporters right now. Not that I ever was but especially not right now.

"He's in hospital isn't he? It's all over the news!"

Another said. HE'S WHAT?

"What do you mean he's in hospital?!"

I asked, actually paying some attention to the reporters now. Paul's in hospital? Since when?! One of the men handed me a news paper. My heart stopped when I saw what was on the front page.

It was Paul. Two pictures of him. One of his skinny body. Another of his face. The headline read "beatles member Paul McCartney found starving in Liverpool square"

*the article*

Is Paul McCartney ok? In the early hours of the morning the bassist was found unconscious by a passer by having collapsed up to 45 minutes before anyone found him.
His condition is reportedly stable but he's severely underweight. It's unknown why he's that skinny but "we're working to find out the answer" as said by a nurse caring for paul.
Please send your prayers to Paul and his family in thus difficult time.

*end of article*

He's been in hospital?! He collapsed after he ran form me. Oh my fucking hell why didn't I follow him?! I could have helped!
I didn't reply to the reporters, instead I just kept the paper and took off running to the hospital
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I'm not proud of this chapter much but I wanted to get a chapter out for you all x btw it's hard to write when your friend is being mean so sorry for any spelling mistakes.