Blackbird // Mclennon

Yer Blues

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" My Mother was of the sky,
my Father was of the Earth,
but I am of the universe,
and you know what it's worth! "

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     Friday seemed to come upon us very quickly and before we knew it, it was only hours before we were supposed to perform at Richard's Uncle's cafè.

We all sat around in Richard's basement and spoke about which songs we'd play tonight. I was sat on the floor next to John, who had his arm wrapped around my torso while Richard sat at his drums and George on the floor as well.

"So, this is where it'll all begin, yeah?" George asks while tuning his guitar.

"What was that?" I asked.

"Ye know, since we'll all become legends some day?" He laughed a little.

"I doubt that, George, we've barely got a followin' right now." I sighed, "What makes ye think we'll magically get one over night?"

"Well, ye never know, Macca! We could actually go somewhere wi' this music of ours." John smiled as he played with my hair. "Like I've always been sayin'."

"Yeh, listen to yer little lover, Paulie." Richard joked.

I laughed a little, "Hope he's right." I purred.

"Anyroad, we go on in an hour." George announced, checking his watch, "We better start walkin'."

John nodded and we all stood up and headed out the door.

Our first ever real concert. One with an actual crowd of people. Sure, it's in a darker side of town with just a few people trying to sip on their tea, but it's still a crowd nonetheless. I'll take what I can get.

Suddenly, I felt a bit nauseous.

We walked inside the dimly lit café and immediately an older fellow walks up to us.

"Richie! Son, how've ye been?" He hugs Richard, this was presumably his uncle.

"I'm well, and you?" He asks with a grin across his face.

"I'm good! So are ye boys nervous for tonight?" The man asks, wiping off a mug.

"Well, ofcourse, but the show must go on, as they say." John smirked a little.

"Don't worry, lads, my crowd's not picky abou' music. Can't wait to hear yer blues." He smiles and walks back into the kitchen.

Both Richard and his uncle had such a similar Liverpuddlian dialect, it was almost frightening.

Richard walks up onto the tiny stage where they already had a drum kit set up for him. I placed my bass on the stand and George set his guitar next to mine. John just adjusted the mic to his height and gave it a tap to make sure it sounded alright.

George began to strum up a beat to the song "Blue Suede Shoes," Catching the attention of nearly everyone in the little building. Even though the songs a few years old, it was still a hit with the crowd.