𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 | GEORGE HARRISON

𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵

"you want me to what?!" my eyes had have been as large and round as two plates as i gazed at george in disbelief. he had his usual unmistakable grin plastered on his face, looking me up and down. we were in the field again, chatting away.

"listen, i've made some altercations in the afterlife-err, i had someone do it for me, but... we found a time machine!" he took both my hands in his grip, longingly grazing his fingers over the tops of my pale hands. his dark brown eyes shined quite beautifully in the sunset, giving the impression of hope. i

i couldn't process just what he was saying, i was in so much shock. "who's we?"

he glanced around the area like he was paranoid, but changed the subject. "have you ever been to london?"

i chortled once. "george, i live in michigan. no, i've never been to london!" i wanted to pull away from his grip, but at the same time i didn't. i knew i might never have another opportunity like it.

"well, it's about time you ask your parents," george, still looking deeply into my eyes blinked a few times in silence. "the time machine is in london-it's at a record shop. i'll tell you the exact one later, but i can explain everything, trust me!"

i knew the dreams i was having had to have meant something, otherwise, i wouldn't have been having them. but... did i honestly want to trust a mere figure in my dream? after all, it was just a dream, that's what i told myself over and over again. if i said no, george would be heartbroken. if i said yes, went and nothing happened, i'd look like a fool and get grounded for the rest of my life.

but if george was telling the truth and he really knew of a time machine... i'd possibly be able to visit not only him in his prime, but everyone when they were alive! maybe i could even prevent some things from happening...

"explain." i sat up straight.

"you're going to go to london and arrive at heathrow. when you get there, hail a cab and ask to be brought to the record shop i'll write down for you. once you're there, a guy named michael should be working. a nice guy. anyways, look around for one of the beatles records and play it. any record player should do. you don't have to do it right in the shop, but if you don't have time, just do it there. see, there's a loophole that opens every five years. it has to be exactly nine pm on the twentieth of this month do it or it won't work,"

i interrupted him, nearly tearing my hands away from his. "isn't that a bit soon? and... every five years? that means i'll be in-"

"you'll be in the timeline you choose for five years. maybe even longer if you miss that," george sounded grim-stern. i'd never seen his this way before, only laid back and careless. "it all depends on how long you want to stay. if you stay long, people will begin to wonder why you aren't ageing. time travel does this. you don't age from the day you arrive until the day you come home."

i creased my brows together. "what happens if i don't go back? if i'm trapped forever?"

george looked even more upset. that's when he took his hands away from mine without warning. "according to the people i know... you- well, you die when you're born if you don't ever go back." he muttered as the sun finally set.

i wasn't as confused about that as i was why he wanted me to time travel. he could've asked anyone, yet he asked me! "oh, that's okay," i dismissed that comment. i was more concerned about other things. "but... why me?"

george had the indication of a smile on his face, but he didn't let it show. "you know, you remind me of a much younger version of myself," i knew we could both sense my dream coming to an end, so he took my hands once again and gazed at me sagaciously. "think about it."

then he disappeared.

what now?