ʟɪʟʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴀʟʟᴇʏ ! ʇɹɐǝɥ ɹǝɥ uᴉ lᴉʌǝp | GEORGE HARRISON

08| blackmail

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳

the ghost of john's famous cackle-laughter was the first thing roxie heard in the morning. was it the morning? "roxie?" she heard from above her. slowly opening her eyes, she realized she was sleeping on the stairs. her back was aching along with her head. she peered up at paul. "your feet are all cut up," he cringed, staring at her open-wounded feet.

roxie made a poor attempt at standing up. the broken glass was still in her feet. "do i have to go to the hospital?" she threw her head back down, defeated.

"my mother was a nurse," paul grabbed her arm, making sure she wasn't putting any pressure on her feet. he swept her up, mumbling, "'m sure i can get the glass out. t's only a few shards."

roxie saw the pool of blood beneath where she was laying and realized just how bad the cuts were. paul carried her to the kitchen and set her on the counter. she saw a slumped over ringo on the floor below them, sleeping just a few feet away from the broken glass.

john came bounding around the corner of the kitchen, stopping when he saw roxie. "yeesh, what happened to you last night?"

"the same thing that happened to you, dipshit," she mumbled as paul examined her foot.

impressed, john furrowed one eyebrow and opened the fridge. surprisingly, everything was gone. "oh, yeah. i forgot george and ringo ate everything in your fridge last night..." roxie exclaimed. it wasn't like she didn't have the money to buy more, but, she had a homemade cake that her mother made her. she saw past john's shoulders and noticed it was gone. everything was. "oh well." he muttered before closing the fridge.

paul carefully took a pair of tweezers, gripping her foot with an intense grip. "this is gonna hurt, rox. really, really bad. don't scream, please,"

she twisted her face into disgust, putting a cloth between her teeth and preparing to hold back a scream. "just do it!" she muffled a whimper as he prepared to pull the first and biggest piece of glass out. it had to have been the length of his index finger and width of a small biscuit. it was buried deep in her sole, begging to be pulled out.

"maybe you should take that to a doctor," george appeared out of nowhere, carrying a bag of ice he held to his head. "that looks... bad."

roxie felt a single tear slip out as paul began pulling on the glass. "george, go grab me some whiskey and ice," paul stopped, to roxie's great relief.

"i don't really drink..." she mumbled. george scoffed, staring at the empty cabinet once he reached it. they must've drank whatever was in there last night. it was filled with empty, scattered liquor and beer bottles.

"then why do you have empty bottles in here? hot out of alcohol," george's eyes were hooded as he nonchalantly responded. "try rubbing alcohol."

"well, go get it!" paul yelled, dabbing some water on her foot. there were only three or four actual shards of glass. the rest were small, fragmented pieces that penetrated the skin, but were quickly falling out. "everything should be fine, love. don't mind george..."

george soon appeared with rubbing alcohol he somehow already knew the location of. he uncaringly tossed the full bottle to paul, almost spilling it in the process. "watch it!"