The Love You Make

Mother Nature's Son

June 18th, 1963
The band had released their first album. The attention it was getting foreshadowed the success that their second would hopefully receive. It wasn't their only cause to celebrate though. Paul was turning 21. The boys went to Liverpool to throw a party.
"We could have it at my aunt's I reckon."

"Yeah, she's got that yard doesn't she Paul?"

It was a nice, warm evening and the band Paul has picked was playing, some folks by the name of the Fourmost. There was a breeze going, wind flowing through the trees making John's hair move around a bit.
"It's in your face! I'll get it." Paul lifted his hand to move John's hair back into place.
        The two of them were seated at the bar drinking, John as usual, downing a little more than he should.
"Hey Paul."

"Yes, John."

"Happy birthday." he said lifting up his glass and taking a sip.

"You're too kind."

A few minutes later, the DJ and friend of the band, Bob came over to chat. At this point John could barely speak. They talked for a bit until Bob changed the subject.
"So John, I know you and Brian went to Spain in April, anything happen that you'd like to share?" he spoke with a smirk.
"What are you implying?" Paul intervened.
"Well y'know. C'mon John, everyone already knows. Sounds a bit queer to me."
"What did you just say?" John stumbled to his feet.
"I said something happ-" Bob couldn't even finish his sentence before he was knocked to the ground by a punch from John. He was relentless. He had grabbed a large stick laying on the floor and started beating Bob with it despite Paul's failed attempts to hold him back. Then John had a revelation. One more time and the man would be dead. It was this that made him step back and drop the stick, Paul pulling him out of the crowd. Guests swarmed around Bob and called an ambulance. John, who's face was stricken with guilt, was lead into a car by Paul and taken home.

~

John awoke the next morning in his own bed with the worst migraine of his life. Paul heard him getting out of bed and entered the bedroom.
"How are you feeling?"

"Bloody awful. Say, have we got any aspirin in the cabinet?"

"I don't know. This isn't my house."

"Well, you're in here enough. Just check please."

"Alright, yeah, there is some." Paul said, already rummaging through the shelves. "You want some water too?"

"Sure, thanks."

"Here. Now, we've got some stuff to talk about haven't we?"

"C'mon Paul I barely remember last night."

"Don't lie to me. Look who you're talking to."

John put down the water and faced Paul, staying silent.

"You can't be like this. You almost killed the guy."

"I know."

"And for what?"

"You know for what."

"Cause he called you queer? Right? You are though. Well I mean, I would know if you weren't. Why does it bother you?"

"It's not that. I'm not ashamed, you know that. I just, I was drunk, and I got scared. You worry enough about people finding out, I guess it got to me too."

"But you see, people get upset about things they're passionate about. You seem more guilty now that you nearly killed a guy that called you queer."

"I know, just in the moment..." John's sentence trailed off and his eyes met Paul's pleadingly.

"It's ok. We can all come back from this. I just wanted to talk." Paul's face softened.

"Now I'll have to apologize." John sighed falling back on the bed and pulling Paul with him.

Paul chuckled and said with a smile: "That's the hard part John. I never liked Bob anyway."