And I Love You (McLennon)

Part 3

                                                        23 February 1965

After the huge amount of positive feedback for their first movie, ‘A Hard Day’s Night’, the boys were up and ready to make their next feature film. The first scene to be shot was the ‘Another Girl’ scene. Paul wasn’t too thrilled with the song. It wasn’t because that it was a bad song, but because the song was pointed towards a girl. There was no doubt that Paul found women attractive. But, there had never been a woman in his life that made him feel the way John made him feel. Including his girlfriend, Jane Asher. Paul and Jane had met a couple of years before, and they hit it off straight away. He thought that she was an extremely beautiful woman. She was smart, kind, and funny. All of the qualities Paul loved in a person. However, even with all of these positive qualities, in the back of his mind, she was in no compare to John. It made him utterly confused to be able to feel attracted to John, but not to any other man. But, he didn’t dare tell her that.  

Paul was glad that Jane had decided to stay home while they went to the Bahamas. Paul didn’t remember the last time he had one on one quality time with John. He assumed that John felt the same way, but somehow Paul felt his friendship with him slowly slip away from his fingers. It devastated him just by thinking about the possibility.

Paul didn’t dwell on the subject for too long, however. It would only ruin his time in the Bahamas with John. Paul was the first one to be in his spot for the shoot, with his bass in hand securely strapped over his shoulder, which was right in front of the ocean tide. He was focused on strumming the notes to the song when suddenly a purple figure captured his eye. His eyes traveled up to discover that it was John, gripping his acoustic guitar tightly in his hand, strutting towards Paul. When Paul saw that he had on a lavender button up shirt, his knees automatically weakened beneath him, making it difficult to keep his balance.

“You alright? You look a little off today.” John asked when he fully approached Paul. Paul swallowed hard as he looked at how his skin complexion went perfectly with his shirt, astounding Paul beyond words. He busied himself with his bass strumming, trying to restrain himself from talking. He felt if he spoke, everything would come pouring out like word vomit, having no control over what came out. So, he pretended that he didn’t hear him. John finally shrugged it off and changed the subject. “So, for this movie, are we to strum the actual notes, or do we just pretend? Because I’m not in the mood to go all out today.” He said with a chuckle. Paul cleared his throat when he felt less affected by John’s purple shirt. “Not really sure, to be honest. I guess we’ll do whatever we want until someone says to do something different.” He replied, not looking up from his bass.

 “Alright boys,” began the director after a few hours of shooting, “I think we’ve got enough footage to make this work. We’ll let you go for today.” Paul let out a sigh of relief, and wearily walked back to the van that would take them back to the hotel. Just before Paul climbed in, he put his bass into his case and put it in before him. He then caught a glimpse of the setting sun, which was as beautiful as he’d ever seen. His eyes traveled towards John who was on his way to the van, removing his hat from his sweaty head, shaking his hair to keep it from sticking to his forehead. Paul felt a lump in his throat when John did so. He had to work on not choking up every time he saw John. He would begin to suspect something, if he hadn’t already.

The boys arrived at the hotel not long after that, and quickly got cleaned up after a long day of filming. Paul was the last one to come out to the suite’s living room. The other three lads, plus Brian were gathered around the coffee table, laughing while playing poker and drinking booze.

“There you are, Paulie!” John exclaimed, raising a shot glass. “Drinks all around! We’re celebrating the first day of filming!” He chuckled as he chugged the glass down. Paul immediately chuckled and grabbed a seat by John, who was already pouring a shot glass for Paul.  He grabbed it from John’s hands, raised it towards the middle and chugged it himself.

After just an hour, Ringo was already gone. He took his shot glass, and tried to fill it with more alcohol, but he completely missed the glass while pouring the bottle. George, who was just a little tipsy, cackled as Ringo soaked in alcohol. “Alright, mate. I think it’s time for you to go to bed.” He said as he stood up, and helped Ringo stand up with him, carrying most of his body weight. “Whhhaaat are you talkin’ about… I’m fffffiine.” Ringo said, his speech slurring significantly, running into the bedroom door with his head. John, who was hammered himself, fell over to his side laughing. “Ringoooo. There’s a door there….” John yelled towards him when he left the room, snickering.

“I think it’s time for you to go to bed, as well, mate.” Paul said, taking one last shot before standing to his feet, John following slowly after. He began to lose his balance until Paul grabbed a hold of shoulders to keep him on his feet. “I should have cut you off a while back.” Paul said, guiding John towards their room. Through the many stumbles into the walls and doors, and almost falling back onto the floor, John finally made it into his bed, plopping himself down firmly. “Thank you. You’re the…beeest mate in the w…world.” John said to Paul, giving him a cheesy smile.

Paul shook his head slowly, a little disappointed. “Well, I’m glad you only tell me that when you’re drunk…” He went to turn around until he felt a tug on his hand, pulling him back around towards John. Paul’s facial expression had a sense of exhaustion, wondering what John could possibly want then. But, he then could tell that John was being serious. For some reason, Paul had thought he had the same look in his eye as he did when he looked at Cynthia every time he saw her. Or, maybe that was just Paul’s wishful thinking. He soon realized he had been right when John slowly stood up, staring Paul straight in his eyes. Without saying a word, John leaned in towards him so quickly that he had little or no time to react, and gently placed soft lips on top of Paul’s.

A mumble of shock escape from Paul as he felt the lips he longed for for so long finally make contact with his own. He felt a wave of awe rise inside of his body. He had only dreamed of this moment, and yet those dreams never compared to the reality. He felt as if his head was going to spin off his shoulders at that very moment. The lightheadedness that he felt was almost too much for him, so naturally, he grabbed onto John’s shoulders tightly to keep himself from falling. It was difficult for Paul to catch his breath, but he held onto John as tightly as he could with every fiber of his being. He did not want to lose this moment, for he knew for certain that he may not have another one like it. As Paul began to relax in John’s arms, they moved their lips in perfect sync, forming together flawlessly. Once the intensity of the waves became too much for him, Paul pulled back slowly, his eyes fluttering open to meet John’s.

Without saying a word, John backed up towards his bed, without breaking the eye contact with Paul, and slowly sat upon it. Paul suddenly looked upon John with confusion, sitting on his bed across from him. “What…” He began, trying to speak the words that were hovering over his lips. “Was that for…?” He finished meekly. John smirked at him, his eyes drooping with a mixture of tiredness and intoxication. He slowly laid himself down on his bed, and before turning off the lamp, he whispered “Goodnight, Paulie.”

Paul didn’t move a muscle for a few moments. He was unaware of his hands gripping tightly on the edge of the bed, trying to fight back the tears of frustration that were welling up in his eyes. He knew that John was too drunk to remember what happened that night, but Paul would always be burdened with the secret, as if he wasn’t carrying enough on his shoulders.

Wishful thinking led him to hope that he would forget about what happened that night. He laid his head gingerly upon his pillow, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips as he felt the warmness of a single tear roll down his cheek.