If I Fell│John Lennon/Beatles FanFiction

Chapter 19 - 1.June.1961

Chapter 19

June 1, 1961

I trudged up the stairs of the Top Ten Club, a black sleeveless turtleneck sweater tucked into high-waisted trousers hugging my narrow hips. My hair was pulled back in a loose bun, and I wore sunglasses over my eyes. My camera dangled from my arm as I continued one step at a time, toward the roof, trying not to get winded.

Things had settled over the last two months. Not in the way I'd wanted them to, but at least they'd settled. We'd all kept a greater distance, mostly because of our schedules. I hadn't been avoiding them, not really, not on purpose. I had to be up early for my job, and the boys often only made it to bed as I began work. I saw them when I worked behind the bar at the club. I served them bevs and tried my best to smile, and at times, my smile was genuine.

I never once stayed with them. There were times I wanted to, times I needed to, but I never gave in to the urge. There was a line I couldn't cross if I wanted to quash my feelings, and sleeping near John's bed crossed that line by a kilometre. John seemed to be letting me figure out how to live on my own, and I guessed I should've been thankful.

I rounded the bend to the last flight of stairs and continued to heave myself forward. I'd taken the day off of work to complete my final project for my photography class. I was proper pleased when John, Paul, and George had agreed to let me take photos of them on the roof of the club. It certainly surprised them when I'd asked to do the photoshoot considering I'd only taken photos a few nights since they'd been back. But I wanted my final project to be superb, and taking pictures of the boys, well, it was what I did best.

I pushed my shoulder against the door, and it swung open. The roof was sloping, black, and had a protruding brick column. It overlooked the bustling streets of the Reeperbahn. The lads were sitting on the roof, smoking cigs, and chatting amongst themselves.

My eyes widened as the door swung closed behind me. "What in the fuck are you lot wearin'?"

Paul scoffed. "Just bought these, Liv. Think we look proper fit."

I grinned. "Oh you do, do you?"

They were dressed alike with brand new leather trousers, black shirts, new matching leather jackets, and white newsboy caps. The absolute best part of their new look was the cowboy boots. Each pair was slightly different—George's were black with flaming white stripes dominating the upper half, Paul's were black with subtle white details, and John's were just black. It was so like John to dress head to toe in black.

Paul wasn't wrong...they did look proper fit, though didn't they always? But something about their outfits just made me giggle. Maybe it was the hats, maybe the boots. I wasn't sure.

"Lookin' like a bunch of Gene Vincents," I said through another fit of giggles.

"Lads, looks like we've gotta go," John said, a cheeky grin on his lips. "Liv here doesn't seem to appreciate that we're doing this during our sleeping hours."

My hands found my hips, and I cocked my head to the side, glaring at him. "It's bloody late afternoon."

"John's right, y'know. Prime sleepin' time. Or eatin' time," George said as he exhaled a stream of smoke. He grinned at me as I shot him a look.

"Or shagging time," John added, winking at the lads.

"Jeezus." I rolled my eyes and refused to acknowledge the twinge in my chest. Paul's eyes fell on me, but I ignored the look he gave me. "Or prime lighting time."

"Think we're lookin' for a bit of an apology," John said, his eyes meeting mine, as they so seldom did anymore. I took a selfish moment to get lost in them.