The four lanky and slightly tall men laughed cheerfully while walking down the empty, cold streets of Liverpool. The year is 1963 and almost at a close, as their lives change with the fame that grows. The lads sometimes escape from their practicing and shows to have fun in their dreary hometown. "I'm fuckin' freezing" laughs an intoxicated John, taking a swig from a bottle of whiskey. "I thought drinking was supposed to make you feel warm" said Paul, playing with the gold chain on his wrist. "Erm maybe we should sit down" George said, noticing John's growing intoxication.
"Oh live a little Georgie, you're not so sober yourself" laughs Ringo, handing his good friend yet another bottle of sorts. They all continue down the street but stop as they noice a sign for a pub just a few miles down. "How 'bout it boys ?" John asks and they cheerfully agree. Paul slowly trails behind the three, wanting to clear his head a bit with the crisp cool air. The past few months seemed to go by so quickly, and he felt somewhat out of control with his life. He took out a cigarette, cupping the flame away from the wind and taking in a long drag.
He knew it wasn't healthy but at the moment, he didn't want to feel worried about his health and didn't care too much about it. "What's wrong Paul ?" trails a voice from ahead. Paul looks up and sees John walking towards him. "Oh it's nothing, just having a smoke to clear my mind" he responds, shoving his other hand down his pants pocket. Paul was a bit cold, and didn't bother throwing on his jacket since he figured they wouldn't be outside very much, which left him in a white long-sleeved shirt with a tye and long black dress pants. Although the weather didn't bother him too much seeing as though he'd grown up in the cold his whole life, he still felt that something was wrong.
"Cheer up a bit Macca, you don't look so bright" John says with a smirk. "Oh piss of John" Paul mumbles, somewhat annoyed at his now heavily drunk friend. Or should he say friends. Paul's eye's veered ahead to the rest of his mates, and he could see the glossy intoxication in their eyes. He didn't want to ruin their fun, so he took a swig of the whiskey in John's hand with a toothy grin. "Yay !!" chimed in George and Ringo in a fit of laughs.
He sure did love his chums, especially at times when they could bring him joy by simply acting like idiots, which wasn't hard for them. John walked back, back at a steady yet staggering pace with his bandmates. Paul smiled and puffed one last time from his cigarette which wasn't smoked all the way. As he extinguished it with his dark dress shoes, he noticed a man standing a distance away from him, facing a bit in his direction. "It's nothing, don't freak yourself out McCartney" he thought, scolding himself for being so paranoid. Unfortunately, Paul's paranoia increased as he noticed the man walking towards him.
"Umm guys" he said, almost mumbling looking ahead at where his friends were. They'd stumbled quite a distance away from him and couldn't hear him. Paul sped towards his friends, almost jogging and looked past his shoulder in time to notice that the man was now walking at the same pace. Paul didn't know if he should be concerned, but the growing feeling of paranoia grew colder by the second. He looked back to see that the man was now running, and at this Paul broke into a run as well, his breath beginning to hitch in his throat from fear. "Guys !!" Paul yelled, getting their attention just in time for him to be tackled to the ground by the strange man.
YOU ARE READING
Unfortunate
Mystère / Thriller"The four lanky and slightly tall men laughed cheerfully while walking down the empty, cold streets of Liverpool. The year is 1963 and almost at a close, as their lives change with the fame that grows. The lads sometimes escape from their practicing...
