Magnetic: A Live Wire Sequel

Chapter 1

Laila’s POV

In 1964, the Boys received a lot more attention, from more than just England. Whenever I thought about their up and coming popularity in America, my had butterflies dancing the tango across my stomach.

In January of that year, we went to France. I sat on the plane, almost jumping out of my seat with anticipation. Ringo still wasn’t too crazy about the plane, but made it through. Maureen, now happily married to Ringo and almost one month pregnant, Cynthia, with Julian, Justice, and I all accompanied the guys.

Justice had told George not long before about the cancer. He had instantly declared that he was quitting, though he would occasionally catch himself lighting one up.

France was beautiful! What we saw of it, that is. The first day, the band was in Versailles, so we girls spent a lot of time there that day. Any Beatles fans or any one that might recognize us at the Centre to see them. Mo, Justice and I got along well for the entire trip, minus the drinking bit, but Cyn just watched us like a hawk. She acted like a parental figure all the time, and at one time she was fun, but now she was a major buzz kill. I actually felt bad for her. It was this motherly instinct that got her kicked forcibly out of John’s good graces. That and Julian, though that would turn out to be a blessing in disguise for them all.

“Mo, you can’t drink. Not while you’re pregnant. Or smoke. It’s bad for the baby.”

“Shhhh! No one knows yet! God, Laila.” I had never given the secret aspect of this any real thought. I shrugged and continued on. I got the baby a teddy bear with a blue silk ribbon wrapped around its neck, knowing it was a boy. I hid the bag in a different one and we went on like nothing happened.

When we did head back to the hotel, it was surrounded by girls. It seemed impossible to get in, but not so. We seemed to look like sane, posh people, so they let us through and we went up to our rooms. I said good bye to the girls and checked out the suite that Paul and I shared.

“Laila!” I heard and spun around. Paul smiled and almost tackled me to the ground with a hug.

“Hey,” I laughed as he began showering me in kisses, rocking me on back on my heels. “What’s with all this? Not that I mind.” I heard him chuckle slightly against my cheek.

“I missed you.”

“I’ve been gone for 7 hours. It’s not that long. What is it really?” I pulled back.

“Celebratory thing actually. We are in Paris, the city of love and all.” He backed us up into the delicate wooden desk furnishing.

“It’s the city of lights. Le Ville des Lumieres?” Paul rolled his eyes at my French. “And we are in Versailles, smarty.”

“Whatever the title, it’s still Paris. Let’s enjoy it, shall we?” he was already working his hands up my dress. I gave in quickly and pulled his shirt over his head. It got stuck on his head for a minute and I spent a good amount of it laughing. He threw his grey t-shirt across the room and unzipped my dress quickly and it sank to the floor, turning quickly into a puddle of fabric. Paul hastily unclasped my bra, having become an expert in it not long before we met. I stood there, stark naked besides a silver chain hanging from my neck, Paul pressed against me. Then he took a step back and observed me from afar. I blushed and turned slightly away under all the scrutiny.

“You look beautiful,” he smiled and moved back towards me, shedding his black pants in the process.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” I tried desperately to keep eye contact with him, but I slipped once, my eyes traveling quickly down his torso. He caught it of course.