Across the Universe (ON HIATUS)

Chapter 9 Complications

Chapter 9

Complications

The one guy everyone sees as a legend and he thinks I'm bad...Why am I stressing out about it anyway? It's not like I'm trying to become a musician or anything...I guess it's because the good things I've heard about him isn't really showing. I guess it's like one of those stories where someone meets their hero, thinking of them so highly that they can be the nicest person they'll ever meet, you know, that they already have in mind what their hero is like, and then their entire dreams are crushed when they're the exact opposite. I don't know, maybe they were talking about 1970s John, not 19- I don't even know what year it is. I guess I should ask George, no wait, I can't do that...I guess I shouldn't let the some-what bad things spoil the pile of good things about him, like the Doctor says.

I suppose I looked a bit disappointed because a look of concern washed over George's face as he asked "Ye alright? Don't mind John, he's usually like this with other guitar players. He was like that with me and Paul."

"Thanks...Was it the song?" I asked with a raised eyebrow. I realized that during this time, they didn't have wordy songs with deep lyrics yet, so I bet it's something they're not use to. They'll like it. Bob's a good one to listen to.

"Well, I never really heard of a song like that but it sounded really nice and meaningful." George said, giving me a crooked smile. I'll admit, he is pretty good looking with those bushy brows and his dark eyes that give him an aura of mystery.

"How old are you George?" I asked, the curiosity taking over me.

"Oh, uh, eighteen. Guess you're thinking why Paul and John hang out with me, huh?" He gave a sheepish smile.

"Why would I think that? Your their band mate, without you, the band won't sound half as great as they are now. Besides, I've had young friends before. It's not like your age matters anyway, I mean, as long as you don't act like some douche, your'e cool." I gave him a smile, assuring him that I wasn't going to judge. It really didn't matter, I was eighteen once and he really is a nice boy, I mean guy...Great.

 "Really? Thanks...that's really nice te hear. How old are you?"

 "I'm 20."

"Yer the same age as John. Paul's nineteen." George said. We changed our position on Paul's bed that way our backs weren't towards each other. Now that I look at his young self, taking in his dark, powerful looking eyes, thin face, fangs that stood out from when he smiled, I realized I was talking to another rock legend.

The day when they announced his death, I was only seven. I didn't have a shred of an idea as to who he was at the time, but I remember the shock on my grandparents face and the overwhelming depression that hung over them. After a while, I finally asked my grandfather who he was. He was an encyclopedia of Rock and Roll music. Told me he was an important man that changed things for the better of music. That he was a good man like John. Years later, I learned George was one of the world's greatest guitarist as well as influential. I'm kinda happy that I'm talking to him now actually.

"What does Nirvana mean?" George asked me, pointing to my shirt. Once again, I forgot that they're going to question the things that are on it.

"Uh, it means something like pure bliss in Buddhist religion, but it's also the name for a band back home." I gave a smile.

"Oh, so it's a band...makes sense...You sure, have lots of shirts with bands that are unheard of." 

"Ooohh, uh, yeah, well, they're all small like you guys and well, they got a pretty loyal fanbase..." I chuckled out nervously.

"That must be nice. We don't have many fans here but I think there are some back in Hamburg." George said as he had a thoughtful look on his face.

"Oh, please" I scoffed. "You guys don't have many fans? That's a joke for sure. I mean, you guys are actually good. Great actually. You shouldn't really doubt yourselves."