𝘞𝘏𝘈𝘛 𝘐𝘚 𝘓𝘐𝘍𝘌 | PAUL MCCARTNEY

|with love from me to you|

october ninth

      ,

that night . the final night.

alcohol goes through my system fast. one second i'm sober as an old lady, then i'm drunker than an eight year old with unlimited redbull and soda.

the night we got drunk was quite possibly the craziest night of my life. paul and i got into our craziest outfits, him the suit he brought and me, a leopard print dress i'd never felt the confidence to wear. yet, i somehow found it in me that night.

paul suggested it to me as i was hurriedly searching through my drawers. he picked it up and held it by the straps to his shoulders, striking a sassy pose and a kissy face with closed eyes and raised eyebrows.

"you look fabulous," i told him, laughing my guts out. "just... fabulous." i said between laughter.

he smiled at me and nodded. "you should wear this one," he suggested. my eyes widened and i looked closer at the dress. i bought it the year prior when shopping for a prom dress.

i didn't expect to wear it, though. it was low-cut, but not tight at all and came a bit above my knees. a loose fitting dress that made me feel freer than a dog hanging out a window on a windy day.

so, it was set. i would wear the dress, he would wear the suit he came here in. we would party like there's no tomorrow—which, there wasn't for paul, and hopefully i wouldn't have been too heartbroken. after all, he was my favorite beatle.

the second my parents left the house, we were unleashed. paul and i raced the other to my parents' bedroom, grabbing all the alcohol and smuggling it out to the kitchen.

luckily, we had a disco ball so the mood could be set. he turned the normal lights out and turned the disco lights on. it made the room look like party central. i set the liquor and vodka on the counter, taking a deep breath in and preparing for the worst.

"you ready?"

"ready as i'll ever be."

with the flick of paul's finger on the lid of the heavy bottle of alcohol, my heart began racing. "let's get fuckin' wasted, then!"

he lazily took a long swig, throwing his head back with the bottle. with shaky hands, i took the vodka and poured it into a solo cup. i grabbed the cup up and let the vile liquid ease down.

"oh," i groaned. "that's... that's strong," i choked. it burned the back of my throat. paul smiled at me, turning the boom-box in the corner on. he put a kidz bop cd in, confused as i was.

"this is horrible," he ridiculed once he heard the opening lines of i like it like that. "who... who is this?!"

"just put the swingin' sixties cd in," i demanded. he shrugged, taking the kidz bop one out and putting the early sixties cd in. i made sure it didn't have any of the beatles songs on it beforehand.

"man, i love bob dylan!" paul already finished the bottle before i knew it. i took another wary sip, side-eyeing paul. we danced along to all the songs on the album for most of the time.

i let the alcohol guide my movements once i slowly got drunker and drunker. paul was drunk two songs in. i felt excited, scared, at ease and relaxed all at once one it all kicked in. we danced with each other until the cd was done. by then, both of us were steadily drinking more and more.

"how am i gonna explain this to my parents?!" i slurred. laughing with me, paul opened his mouth but didn't say anything. his laugh was obnoxiously funny, all because of the alcohol.