Help! //McLennon

three

"I warn yer, its nothin' fancy." John chuckles as he fumbles for the key in his leather jacket pocket. The building was run down, but that was nothing new when it came to this part of Liverpool. I hold Mike to my chest as he shivers in the cold of the stairwell, and John eventually unlocks his apartment. "I didn't clean or nothin', but it'll do." He mutters awkwardly and scratches the back of his neck as he holds the door open for us to enter. I immediately gasp and my jaw drops at the interior of the small city apartment.

A rusty drum kit sat quietly in the corner, looking tired and worn yet still begging to be played. Amps and acoustic guitars lined the walls of the room, and little nifty instruments like harmonicas and ukuleles were left lying around.

My father had always taught and encouraged me into music and I followed closely in his footsteps when it came to the love of music. I could muck about on a few instruments and write a few little lyrics and rhythms, but this looked like the embodiment of paradise.

John shuffles in after us and I look over to him with my jaw dropped. "This place is amazin'!" I cry, still gawking at all the instruments. I almost squeal a little once I spot the piano tucked away neatly in the corner. We had once had a piano almost identical to this one, and my father used to pay for lessons, all until Helen moved in and deemed it sinful. "It's beautiful." I murmur softly under my breath, absently roaming over to the instrument and brushing my fingertips over the keys. Memories flash through my mind like a sudden burst of light and suddenly I'm seven years old again. My mother is sitting next to me on the piano bench and I'm fiddling around on the keys, doing scales and what not. She sits there, a soft and tender hand wrapping around my little shoulders.

"That's really good, Paulie." I remember her whispering and kissing my hair. "Yer'll be the next Beethoven." She had chuckled.

"Who's Beef Oven?" I remember asking, causing her to laugh and brush her nose teasingly on mine.

The feeling of John's arm grazing mine brings me back to the present and I look up at him, retracting my hand instantly; expecting him to be angry. But instead there is a naughty smirk on his cheeks and he raises an eyebrow.

"Yer gonna play somethin or what?" he asks, breaking our shared gaze to press on one of the keys; making a D note ring out into the room.

"I better not. I'll wake Mike." I murmur and bite my lip. Although there was nothing more that I wanted to do then to sit down and play my heart out, I knew that there was no time for recreational things when there were more important stuff to worry about.

"He'll be woken up when yer guys 'ave a bath anyroad." He says and pulls out the piano bench, sitting down and gesturing or me to join him. Sitting down, instantly a feeling of calm runs over me.

"A bath?" I frown and lightly brush my hands over the worn out keys.

"Not to be rude, but yer lads look filthy. It'll do yer good." He chuckles lightly and motions for me to play something. Adjusting Mike in my lap, I press my hands into a loose chord and press down the keys, a sweet sound admitting for the beautiful instrument. I close my eyes and smile, forgetting the whole world and playing a little song I had written a while ago before Helen had confiscated our piano.

Mike stirs in my lap, but once he awakens, he swivels around to watch my fingers move. To be honest I had forgotten where I was, and it was just me and Mike, back at home in peace in a world that still had Mother.

"Holy shit." John breathes from beside me and I'm pulled from my own little reality back to this one. My fingers stop moving and the music comes to a halt. "That's really good, yer know." John chuckles in awe, his jaw slightly a gape. An embarrassed blush creeps onto my cheeks, and I retract my hands from the instrument instantly.