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

Chapter 19

Paul's pov

The TV flicked from scene to scene as I watched it. Not paying much attention to it at all, I couldn't be bothered today.
Unlike other days where I would spend all day lying in front of the TV today I didn't see the appeal.
Just two hours ago Brian dropped me off at my home after God knows how long of being in the hospital. He said numerous times he didn't want to leave me alone so quickly but after promising to use my tube thingy he left me with a few hours to myself. In the end he probably saw how much I needed some time to myself, with everyone being up my ass recently.

From the second the front door closed I've been set on messing around with my instruments again, maybe writing a song or just staying and practicing before I had to go to my dad's later today. In the hospital there was no guitars or pianos, obviously. And I've just been itching to write something.

But somehow I still remained on the couch. My eyes dropping more and more as the show continued. All sorts. Completely closed when it ended and by the time a new shows theme song was playing I was asleep.

*dream paul*

My eyes shot open.

My hands felt the fabric I was lying on. It was a soft, pastel blue, fabric. Like the type typically on a sun bed. The golden sun's heat bested down on me in such a pleasant way it destingished all thoughts of confusion and panicking.
Slowly, I sat up on the sun bed to take a closer look st my surroundings. The sky was a pure blue and had white, fluffy clouds dotted around. There was a large, rectangular pool about a meter from the row of sun beds. It seemed to be some sort of hotel, Maybe in some tropical island. But no one was here. I was by myself with only the chirping of the birds and the sound of the water fountain to keep me company.

I lay down and let my eyes shut again. Not moving as I let myself enjoy the feeling on the sun on my pale skin. Speaking of my body, I seemed to be wearing nothing more than those swim trunks I had in Miami and an unbuttoned, white, cotten shirt.

"Are you enjoying yourself?"

A familiar voice asked from behind the chair. I opened my eyes again and stole a glance at him. It was John. He was wearing clothes similar to mine and had a soft smile on his face.
It didn't confuse me that John was here. Although I liked the peace and quiet of being here by myself I was even happier to share it with John.

"hey Johnny. Do ya wanna sit with me?"

I asked as I once again sat myself up on the sunbed and twisted so I was facing another chair. John smiled and took a seat opposite me. Only now did I notice he was holding a guitar.

"it's nice here, isn't it?"

John smiled softly. I nodded at his question and eyed the guitar he was holding. It was my guitar from when I was a teenager. I could tell by the scratched in initials on the neck of the instrument. I haven't played it in years. But again, I wasn't confused John had it. I just sort of accepted it.

"you want to play?"

He asked, passing the instrument to me. Softly I held the guitar and sturmmed a few chords. It was perfectly in tune even after years of not using it. The sun still beat down on my back as I messed around with the instrument for a few minutes. Getting a feel for it again.

"how about you write a song? What a better place to write than right here?"

John suggested. I shrugged and watched him run gudrun fingers through his auburn hair. He looked everywhere so relaxed here. Birds sung around us the light hit him in such a way that made all his best features stand out. He looked, soft. Friendly. At peace. I liked it.

"what do I write about?"

I asked still taking in his beauty.

"you know what to write about."

He answered simply.

Suddenly it all pieced together in my head. John was right. What better way to deal with it than write a song?
My fingers seemed to arranged themselves on the fret board all by themselves. I had no control as they started to piece a song together. I didn't have much control either as I began to sing to John.

"yesterday, all my troubles seemed to start away, now it looks as. Though there here to stay, oh I belive in yesterday."

*end of dream Paul (died like Paul did in 1966) *

My eyelids fluttered open again and focused on the ray of light now shining through my open curtains. A smile came to my face as I recalled the dream I just had. I needed to write something before I forgot!

I pulled myself up to my feel and shuffled to the front room, where I kept my instruments. As I walked I sang softly.

"scrambled eggs."

________

Sorry I haven't posted in like a month. I feel like I'm repeating myself too much and I'm showing Paul's eating disorder in a too cliche light. So I'm going to change it up a bit and making the story move along quicker.
Little spoiler: it might grt better and better but then crash and burn again.

Thanks for reading!