⇾ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈

Chapter Eighty-Eight: And We're Saying Goodnight (Out...of...Energy)

September 2, 1962

"I still don't know about this," said Paul uneasily as he glanced down at the paper where the others had scribbled out the lyrics for the demo they'd been sent by George Martin at George's house one day.

"About what?" asked John, but you could tell he wasn't thrilled about their first single not being two originals.

"I just wish we could do something we actually wrote, y'know?" he replied.

John nodded. "Well, so do I." He turned to where I was sitting on the floor and I peered back skeptically.

"Yes?" I asked tentatively.

"What do you think?" he asked simply.

I shrugged. "I think it's good." I thought a moment. "Maybe you could add some harmonies somewhere in the lead part?"

John stared blankly at the lyric sheet, taking in my offer. After a moment, he nodded, seemingly impressed. "Good idea, love." He gave a smile and turned to Paul. "Let's try that."

Paul nodded, still upset that it couldn't be an original. The B-side was supposed to be an original, however, that being, "Love Me Do."

The boys had been working on the songs every chance they got. "Love Me Do" was complete, but its A-side, "How Do You Do It," didn't resemble a song yet. They'd been juggling around different things they could try, but they simply didn't like it.

They had a gig in an hour at the Cavern, one at lunch tomorrow, another tomorrow in Widnes before they were finally heading off to London to record on the fourth.

John and Paul tried out the harmonies multiple times before deciding they liked it and they ran through the whole thing one more time and called it quits. They didn't know if they'd have another chance to practice or not, but they decided in the end that this was better than nothing and that stressing over it wasn't going to help anyway.

As they were packing up their instruments, George's mother came into the room we were in with a little tray of cookies and a smile. George's eyes lit up happily.

"Everything going good?" she asked, sitting them down on the table.

George snapped his guitar case closed and took one. "Good. Thanks, mum." He smiled.

"Of course," she responded. "Happy to see yourselves off to London again?"

George's mom was always nice. She was so supportive of the band and always did everything she could to help them out. I liked her. She always made me feel welcome, and that in turn made me feel like I belonged where I was, a doubt I still sometimes had.

The other three took one of the baked creations off the tray too, nodding their heads happily.

"We're gonna be famous," said John in a high-pitched, sarcastic voice.

"I don't have any doubts," she replied with a hopeful glint in her beautiful, sparkling eyes. "I'm going out. Don't get into any trouble," she added, giving way to her motherly side.

George rolled his eyes. "We sure won't," he said. With that, she left.

"You not gonna have any, love?" John asked me.

I shook my head. "I'm good."

He smirked. "You're lying," he said flatly.

"What makes you—?" Before I could say anything else, he'd broken a piece off of his and shoved it in my mouth.

"Where are we going, boys?" asked John loudly over my coughing as I fought to swallow the bite.

"To the toppermost of the poppermost, Johnny!" they all responded in unison.

"To the hospital, if you do that again, Lennon," I added when I could finally breathe again, garnering a few laughs from everyone else. "I hate you sometimes, you know."

"I love you too," he responded innocently.

September 3, 1962

"We're the bloody Beatles!" Paul responded to a question someone in the audience had asked. Brian's head dropped into his hands and I laughed.

"And we're saying goodnight!" added John, met with a few contradictory statements from audience members. Nonetheless, the four hopped off the stage and forced their way back to put their instruments away so they could make their way over to where we were standing by the door.

When they'd escaped a crowd of people, we stepped out onto the streets. "That's enough music for me today," said John as he slumped back against the wall.

"Out...of...energy," Paul said dramatically.

"Let's go sleep now," added George. We laughed.

"That's probably a good idea, actually," said Brian with a smile. "We're leaving early tomorrow."

This got a good reaction from the others. Even though they wouldn't get to do their original as they wanted, they were so excited to simply have a single to release at all.

"On second thought," said George sheepishly. "Do you think we could work dinner into our schedule?"

We all laughed and Paul slung his arm around his friend's neck and ruffled his hair. "Of course we can," he said.

We didn't go too far from the venue they'd just played. We only went about a hundred feet or so down the road before finding a deserted bakery that we were sure we could get in and get something to take back to the hotel quickly.

The band had played two different houses today, the first being the Cavern and the second being Queen's Hall. The shows had been slightly chilled back. They were all anticipating what was coming tomorrow. We all were.

The bakery looked like it could be fairly new on the inside. There were two teenage girls working the counter that looked to be about two years apart and appeared to be sisters. When we stepped in, they stopped the conversation they were having and smiled at us.

"Good evening," said the younger one on the left.

The older girl flicked her eyes down to the guitar cases in Paul, John, and George's hands and smiled. "You must be the Beatles."

The other gasped. "You are!" she exclaimed in a rush of realization.

"How'd ye know?" asked George amusedly.

"We've heard you on the BBC," said the older one. "Janet loves it." She rolled her eyes. The younger one, Janet, I assumed, bobbed her head up and down.

"I was upset I couldn't see you tonight down the road, but I had to be here." She frowned, dropping her head into her hands.

"Well, we'll be back soon, love," said John from beside me. "All hope's not lost to see the blokes called the Beatles."

The girls laughed. "That's good then," said the older one. "I'm Josie. Nice to meet you," she added.

Paul nodded, giving the signature wink he gave every girl he met.

"Sorry to bother," said George timidly. "But, I'm hungry."

"Right," said Janet, scrambling to get some gloves and a bag. "What can I get you?"