« dreamscapes » [paul x reader]

Chapter 3: Who is She?

° G U I D E °
• y/n- your name
• l/n- last name
——————————————————————————
Paul's P.O.V.

All of the boys were congested in a tight space as the police were trying to protect us from fans. I felt very lightheaded and I really want to pass out. I have been sick after a few shows, must've eaten something bad. Screams were filling up my senses, while I wanted anything but silence right now with what I'm feeling. My band mates haven't really noticed this past few days, which is a good thing, or else John would be fussing all about it, being worried and all. Sometimes I just wish for him to stop doing that, sometimes I don't, because I'll never know when everything of that will be gone.

I immediately got into the car and right beside me is George. My breathing became worse and I can't see properly. Everything before me just became blurry. My droopy eyes almost closed shut. The man right beside me saw what was happening and he immediately caught me from falling onto my face, "Paul?! Are you alright?!", the two boys in front of us saw this and got worried. "I-I'm fine, Geo," I smiled, assuring them. "No you're not, Macca. You look as pale as a piece of paper," Ringo said. I really should work on my acting skills. Who can blame me? Of course, I was that sick.

My stomach began to churl. I felt myself, about to puke up. "I-I'm gonna puke," everyone panicked around me. "What do you need?!", John said, frantically, and I gestured that I needed a bag, "Here—", as he gave me the open bag, the response from my body immediately was given out. "We need to get you to the hotel, immediately," all of us forgot that our manager was here with us. The other Beatles agreed with what Brian said. Good thing we were near our hotel already, or else I would've died here and there.

They all carried me back to Ringo and I's room. "Ringo, can we switch rooms for now? I'm really worried about Paul here," John asked the eldest. "Sure, no problem at all. I can't even take care of him at this state," he sighed. John thanked him and asked for Ringo to get his luggage. My frail body is now on top of a comfy bed, inside a more silent room than the Mania earlier. Everything felt warm and it made me too uncomfortable. I'm too weak to remove my suit right now nor to even speak. I sighed in disbelief and John seemed to notice, thank God.

"Hey? You seem to feel hot with your outfit? Want me to remove it for you, Macca?," he really was concerned about me. I gave him a small nod. "I'll get you a change of clothes. Be right back," what did I do to deserve these people around me? I stared at the ceiling, because I've got no choice, really. John came back with a shirt and shorts. My jacket was removed first before anything else. He continued to remove my clothes as he commented how heavy I was. "S-sorry, I'll try to help stand—," I got cut off and he said,"No need to stand. I can handle you myself. Now, relax".

I did as I was told. John got me changed into the comfy clothes he brought. I feel better without the suit on. That thing can actually suffocate me to death, to be honest. "When did you started to get sick?," I turned to see John has changed from his suit, too. "I don't know. About two shows ago, not sure," he clicked his tongue and shook his head, "and you never told me?", I can hear the disappointment in his voice. "Sorry, thought I was being too much of a bother," he gasped at me, wide eyes. "Paul, you were never a bother to me. I know you don't want me being this worried, but I just want to make the most of every minute with everyone I love," now I feel bad. All he wanted was for me to be alright, and I'm right here shitting about it. "Thanks," I said, still staring at the ceiling. "For what?"—"For being there for me. Y'know, for everything," he smiled and lied beside me, "I should be saying the thing to you. Now, you need to sleep. It's our day-off tomorrow, so, every second of the day is all yours".

Yeah, I should look forward to that.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°
D R E A M
°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

I woke up to a very familiar place. As far as I can remember, I was at the hotel with John— but I wasn't. I was at home in my room. The television was on and Ed Sullivan was on. The whole 'hotel-to-room' thing just wore off for a bit when my attention just got stuck on the program. Huh, weird.

"And please welcome, the one and only, (y/n) (l/n)!," Ed announced. The audience went wild as the curtains opened to see a beautiful girl in a dress and bass guitar. 'So, she plays the same thing?,' I thought. She looked directly into the camera and smiled as she started off with the song. Her voice instantly made my heart feel mellow and soft, even though she's literally singing a rock 'n roll song. (y/n), if I remember correctly, is a really good artist. I don't remember her being a star, but she should be. The crowd is going wild for her, not only the boys, even the girls!

All of my attention never shifted to another thing while she performed. 'Gosh, she's so fucking talented,' If only I can tell her that in person right now. I sang along with her, even if I was unfamiliar with it. She finished the song at ease and smiled, winking at the camera. (y/n) knows how to make her audience entertained.

The show ended and the phone started ringing. I picked it up, which was on my bedside table. "Paul, where are you? We've been honking at you for 5 minutes, love. We need to get going!," it's John, screaming at me from the phone booth in front of my house. I slammed the phone down and went to the restroom to prepare myself. I looked at the mirror and I saw that I was already dressed, probably took a nap before they called. I grabbed the things I needed and ran downstairs.

Outside was a black car honking at my house non-stop. "I'M HERE!," I waved as I ran down our front yard. "What took you so long?!," George said. Both John and I got into the car, then it just zoomed away. Every single one of my band mates glared at me, "If we're late for (y/n)'s show, we're all gonna blame you for it," Ringo groaned. "What're you doing anyways?", he continued after the blame, "Probably wanking off to the thought of (y/n)," George joked and they all laughed at me. "No, I wasn't! I was watching her on Ed Sullivan," I raised my voice in annoyance. "So, you were wanking off!," I just rolled my eyes at them.

Apparently, they know (y/n), too. Wait, I'm in a dream! Why does this seem so realistic? John started to turn on his radio, one of the girl's song came up and every one of them started singing. He nudged me and asked, "Why aren't you singing? Isn't this your favorite song of hers?," first off, why would I sing to a song I don't know? Second, it was never my favorite. "Y-yeah, probably just excited for the show," I smiled and he just shrugged.

The song continued, but we've already arrived at the back of the theatre. Security was already outside our car to protect us. We went out, good thing there are no fans in sight, yet. "Your seats are at the balcony," we all nodded. That's a relief, I guess. As long as no one will notice us, it'll be fine.

We went up to the balcony and of course, our fans already saw us immediately. I waved back kindly, saying hi, as they screamed in awe. The announcer started to talk and they stopped, getting ready for (y/n). To be honest, their screams are louder now, like, literally. How is she gonna handle all of this? How is she gonna hear herself? She's a bigger person than us, I assume, according to the screams. "(y/n)(l/n)," the curtains opened and the boys we're screaming too, jumping around behind me.

"Macca, wake up. You're sweating, a lot".

I jumped up to see John right beside me. He immediately removed my wet shirt and changed it into a new one. "What were you dreaming about? Are you alright?," he pats my back. I just nodded at him. "You can tell me your dream next time, alright?," he went back to sleep. It's probably late in the evening and I woke him up, because of that dream.

Who is she?