I've Got A Feeling

Chapter Eighteen

August 1958

"Here uh, I have this song that I wrote. It's not completely finished yet, but uh, I want you to read it." I shouldn't be doing this. I REALLY shouldn't be doing this! But I am. I need to be honest, he's my mate. If you're not honest with yer mate, then you're not a real mate to the person. He might even fancy- Don't get your hopes up! He won't! Just expect to be thrown out and beat after this, Mimi won't be hesitant. My hands are shaking looking as his eyes scan over the off-white piece of paper. I gazed too just to perfect any mistakes in my head. It felt like I was going to suffocate not hearing anything from his mouth, my lungs tightened and my heart going into panic mode.

If I fell in love with you
Would you promise to be true and help me understand?
Cause I've been in love before, and I found that love was more than just holding hands

If I give my heart to you
I must be sure
From the very start
That you would love me more than Her

He read it over and over again, a section of his tongue sticking out from such focus. "Yeah, I uh, I think that it's great. Great to sing for a bird." I felt a pat on my knee. My stomach was in tiny knots just thinking about what I was going to say. "But...." "But what?" "Uh...y'know?...Nevermind." "But what John? You clearly had something to say to me." The tension could be cut with a butcher knife, me realizing how much sweat I was producing.

"Uh, I'll be back. Just need to uh, yeah." "Okay." He looked really confused, which he should be considering how I'm making things sound. I walked into the bathroom and slammed the door shut, locking the door securely. I breathed in and out, trying to calm down, my heart rate clearly not getting the message. I'm so nervous though that my hands are gripped to the sink, knuckles turning white, hunched over not daring to look at my appearance. Why would you even think of trying to go through with this? Yer a criminal. How could you even exist? You'll be beat to death, crying for someone to help you. But they won't. Because no one can love a queer. No one could truly love you in the first place. I hurled my eaten food up, my throat burning with acid and the taste of rum and vodka, trying to make as little noise and commotion as possible. I really shouldn't have went on that bender. But I guess who wouldn't want to compete with Stu? Tears burned in my eyes and on my face from before as I clutched the white porcelain bowl. The smell made me expel more than before, infecting my nostrils. I felt like shit. My breath became shaky as I thought of what would happen if Paul ever knew. He'd hate me. Truly kick me out of his life, then I won't have anyone.

"John? You okay?" A knock came to the door, my hands fidgeting with anxiousness. "Y-yeah just fine!" Damn voice crack! "You sure? You don't sound fine." "Yes I'm fine now go away!" There was silence when I heard footsteps. Good, now I can die in peace, literal and figurative. I gagged once again, my throat feeling raw. There was another sound as the vomiting began, and I almost had a heart attack. "John! Oh my god, are you okay?" He ran to my side, rubbing the small of my back. "Yeah, I'm perfectly dandy." Water ran down my face as I realized he probably saw me vomit my guts out. "John, you're throwing up. That is not fine." I wasn't in the mood to talk, but it seems I had to. "How the hell did you get in here?!" He crossed his arms, obviously pretending to be mad. "You shouldn't have taught me how to pick locks then, Lennon." I felt horrible. I kept away from the fact that I went on a bender for almost two days from Paul. It just, it distracts me from the realities of life. I told him almost everything, and after the funeral he told me that when I had a problem I need to talk to him. No matter the time of day. But I can't tell him this, he'll kill me. I can't tell him, I just can't.

"Here, I brought you something." "Why would I need water? I'm brushing my teeth." "Swish yer mouth idiot. It gets rid of most of the guts. Then brush your teeth, and floss and whatever you do to your teeth." I took his advice considering he's been right countless times before and gargled the shit out of my mouth, as well as flushing down the food infested water down the drain. I saw he was eyeing me the entire time, concern in his eyes, and ranting at me in his brain. "Ya don't have to stare at me like that y'know."

"Oh I know, I just need to know why you threw up violently and tried to lock me out." His tone was very condescending. "Did you hear the new Eddie Cochran record?" "John." "It's very good I should play-" "John! Why were you throwing up and why did you try and lock me out?" I said nothing. It's better to not say then to try to deny. It's better to just fly than fight. "John Winston I'm not leaving until I get an answer." My hands gripped the sink again, anxious as to what he'd say.

"......I, I went out drinking with Stu, Friday afternoon." "And when did you go home?" "........Last night...." "So you're meaning to tell me you went on a drinking binge for almost two days?!" "P-Please don't be m-mad at me." I felt the tears sting my eyes. "Oh I'm not mad, I'm pissed! You told me you wouldn't go binging again! Especially with Stuart of all people! I know he's competitive when it comes to drinking!" "I-I'm s-sorry." I did. I did feel sorry. Him yelling at me never made it better though, my voice shaking. "You should be. What part of coming to me any time you need do you not understand John?!" I straightened my posture and tried to look into his eyes. "Look, I would have come to you but I c-can't, okay?" "You can't? Why?" "I just can't, alright? I'm sorry Macca." "You're forgiven."

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We sat back down in my room, trying to discuss the song I had shown him previously. But Paul being himself started prying me for information on what I can't tell him. "Oh come on, I'm your best mate, aren't I?" "Yes you are-" "Then why are you keeping this from me? I only want to help." "I just-, I can't. Let it go. There's nothing you can do." My cheeks heated up just gazing at him. "Please John? I won't tell anyone."

"Y'know.....uh, um, how do I phrase this?" I wiped the sweat off my forehead and hands, my empty stomach somehow mustering food for me to deflect. "Are you okay Johnny?" "Uh yeah. Yeah I am. Can I ask you something?" The feeling in my trousers tightened with his use of Johnny. Damn dick, of course you do that RIGHT NOW. "Of course, you can ask me anything mate." Here goes. Just bite the bloody bullet. I hesitated for a moment as my mouth hung open. "But what if it wasn't for....a b-bird?"

"What are you sayin'?" "Y'know, what if the song, it wasn't, for a bird?" I lowered my voice. I saw his ears morf red, cheeks taking on the same effect. "I mean, it could really be about anything. Like a bird or about a friend or, maybe a parent. Even a higher power if you need to express that, or the absence of a higher power of that's what you believe. It could be about fate, or magic or y'know, anything and everything really y'know. But a crush or someone you're in love with-" I leaned in and tugged his shirt to me. It's soft, like nothing I've felt. All of the birds I've been with have never made me feel this way. My muscles relaxed in his touch, feeling all of the tension disappear. I can taste the cigarettes on his breath, his lips a drug more addictive than morphine. He pulled away almost six seconds after it started.

"What was that for?"

"I uh, I h-have f-feelings for you....."