Paul's POV
I pulled on the clothes George had given me, wondering whose they were because they obviously weren't his. I straightened the collar of the red sweater and dried my hair with a towel.
''Is Princess Paul ready yet? Because you're the one who's going to explain things because none of us knows French.'' called John, knocking on the door repeatedly.
''Yes, I'm coming, I'm coming.'' I told him as I checked my nose one last time, palpating the surface, making sure that it wasn't broken or damaged. My nose was as smooth as always, and satisfied, I opened the door. John just shoved my shoulder, motioning for me to follow him. I could see Maya sitting in the living room, beside the fireplace, drying her hair and combing it with her fingers. A man sat on a couch beside her. He was a thin, man, with white papery skin and vivid green eyes. His hair was thinning but still covered his head without any balding spots, he'd grown himself a mustache that he seemed to be twirling like the Spanish surrealist painter, Salvador Dalí. John absolutely adored him, but I found him weird, with his melting clocks and his strange figures.
Done with the internal blabbering, are we? Sod off. Why are you back again? Why is Maya back in your life again? Does that mean that you're here because of her? Weren't you telling me to sod off? It's not fun when you question yourself. I'm more used to your pigheadedness and the constant denial that I am not you.
A humoured chuckle interrupted my trail of thinking and I concentrated on the person that was producing it. Maya's father sipped from a glass of red wine and asked in a Toulouse accent:
''Donc, vous etes le fameux Paul McCartney?'' it took me a few minutes to dissect the sentence and for my mind to process a response. Who thought that talking to birds in French could be so easy but trying to engage a conversation so hard. Birds aren't everything.
''Oui, monsieur.'' I answered, blushing as my accent sounded wrong and I heard Maya's blond friend snicker from somewhere beside the window.
''Et vous la connaissez, comment?'' My mind was trying to remember every word of French I had ever learnt or heard and I came up with a simple sentence that didn't sound too bad.
''Je l'ai rencontrée à New York. Excusez mon francais.'' I supressed a groan when I heard Maya's friend snicker again.
''It's quite alright, at least you tried.'' he answered in current English. And I heard Maya giggle a little.
''So, I am Jean, nice to meet you all, I'd say good evening as you all seemed to be leaving but, I believe the weather is not in your favor today, so you are all welcome to stay.'' he said, while he stood up, grabbed his glass and walked towards the corridor.
''By the way, very excellent music, all of you. '' he adressed the four of us and then turned to Maya
''Je fais confiance en toi et je ne te juge pas. Bonne nuit.'' Maya looked embarrassed as she bit on her nails.
''Maya, I think I'm going to go to bed, alright?'' called the blonde, kissing the top of Maya's head. '' If you need me, shout, and I really do mean, shout.'' he said, not even casting a glance towards us and exiting the room. I heard his footsteps go up the stairs and the sound of the door slamming behind him. I heard George grumble something like bloody idiot behind me and John laugh. Maya sat down on the couch and Jimmy entered the living room.
''Hey Jimmy.'' called John and I narrowed my eyes, surprised that there wasn't even a hint of sarcasm in his salute. I sat on the rug, beside the fire, feeling comforted by the crackling of the wood as it was licked by the flame.
''Hi John. How've you been?'' he answered, taken aback but always polite.
''We've been wonderful. New CD's, tours.''
''Yes, no time to write or even phone, no time to at least say that you don't have it.'' snapped Maya
''I lost your adress Maya. I didn't forget.'' Ringo told her, but her expression didn't soften up
''We're sorry.'' John said
''Why are you even here? Shouldn't you all be on tour, sitting on top of your pile of groupies?''
''George had a dream-'' Ringo started to say but I elbowed him and George pinched his arm, cutting him off.
''Never mind.'' said John, sitting down beside Maya like his usual confident self. She moved lightly away from him but he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and brought her close.
''What have you been up to Maya?'' he asked, smiling.
''Journalism.'' she said curtly but you could see her trying hard not to smile.
''Well that's fabulous. When are we going to read it?'' Ringo asked, a little more confident
''We can be your first interview.'' pressed John
''I don't know.'' she said, confused and embarrassed
''Come on.'' said John, and I recognized how he batted his eyelashes and how he talked to her. He's flirting with her. HE'S FLIRTING WITH MY MAYA. It's funny how I always come back to control your inner Mama Bates. She's not yours by the way, she was. It's funny how you're back to fucking with my head. Now, now, don't start on me.
''Alright, fine.'' she said, giggling. '' I'll interview each of you tomorrow.''
''Perfect.'' John said and I prevented myself from snorting.
''Maya, where can I sleep?'' Ringo, as usual, asked as he started to yawn noisily
''Oh, right. You and John can share a room, George can sleep on a matress in my room, and Paul you can sleep on the couch.'' she said the last part without even looking at me and I flinched a little.
''Well, I'm going to go. Goodnight everyone.'' said Ringo as he went upstairs, tripping on a few of the steps and laughing .
George sat on the other side of the fire and Jimmy pulled up a chair. The conversation was very random, John trying to make Maya talk and the rest of us agreeing half-heartedly. It was as if I were inside a glass case, watching everything and not being able to do anything. George left first, then John and Jimmy. Maya sat silently on the couch, she wouldn't meet my eyes.
''Ma-'' I started to say but she cut me off. She threw me a pile of blankets that were on a table and whispered a good night.
Maybe I did something wrong. What took you so long to figure it out? Shh. Even a toddler would have discovered that faster than you.
THE MORE I WRITE THE SHITTIER IT GETS. I'll have a busy week but I'll try to write ( if this isn't shitty and you actually like it c:)
