⇾ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈

Chapter Fifty-Five: Macca's Got a Big Problem

December 28, 1961

"No, no, no, I think we should do some originals," John said.

I was sitting back at the counter at NEMS with my notebook, listening to the band bicker on the floor in front of me. Brian had gone to retrieve something from his office.

"I don't wanna," said Paul.

"What if we did one you can sing? How about 'Like Dreamers Do?'" asked John.

Paul sighed. "Alright."

John's arms dropped from around the body of his guitar. "Paul, what happened? Why are you so sulky?"

I looked up at these words. Paul's expression had hardened. He had seemed happy last night when he left here, and presumably was happy when they all went out, but now he was back to the distressed mess he'd come into the store as yesterday. He had barely spoken any more than two-words replies.

Paul sighed. "The damn baby," he snapped.

"What about it?" George asked timidly.

"It's gone." He put his head in his hands.

Silence overtook everyone as quick as poison.

"Paul, I—." John began. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize—."

Paul laughed, deflated. "Dot's so upset," he said, running his hands back through his hair and then folding them under his chin. "I don't know what to do."

"There's nothing you can do," I spoke up tentatively. "You just gotta be there for her."

He looked at me and in his eyes, I saw fear and conflict. He genuinely didn't know what to do with himself. "There's nothing?" he asked sadly. "I just don't want her to be this sad," he said.

I shook my head. "Nothing can make up for a loss. You just have to be there when she needs someone."

He nodded and looked down at his bass blankly. John cleared his throat to cut through the thick silence in the room. "Sorry for being a prick, John," said Paul after a moment with a light chuckle.

"All is forgiven, old friend," John joked.

Brian came back out and they all scrambled to act like they'd been deciding on songs this whole time. I returned my attention to my book and saw Brian slouch against the counter to watch them.

"Okay, so," said Paul, acting like he was fine. "'Like Dreamers Do,' then?"

John nodded. "Do you have any you'd like to suggest?" John asked, looking at Brian and I amusedly.

"Uh—." I stuttered, not fond of the sudden attention. "I like—uh—'To Know Her Is to Love Her?'" I offered.

John shrugged. "That'll work."

I smiled and looked down at the page I was filling with words, trying to slow my breathing back down to normal. I really needed to stop making attention such a big deal.

They returned to one another when Brian told them he had nothing to suggest.

"I wanna do, 'The Sheik of Araby,'" added George.