The Night Before

Chapter 5.

One week later

His plan was to ruin my life. How could one ruin my life? Move me to England that's how. And that's exactly what he was going to do because he was Paul McCartney. The whole fuckin world revolved around him and his band. At a time like this, I hated him.

After our little chat a week ago, he threatened to sell me out. Tell the world about me. Tell everyone how I 'planned' to get pregnant and use his name for publicity. Basically, he didn't trust me one bit. After countless times, promising I wouldn't tell a soul who was the farher, my word meant nothing to him. So he decided to move me close by so he could keep an eye on me.

I hated this. I had no choice. I don't want to be known to the world as the whore who had a lovechild with a musician for my own gain. At the time before all this happened, I wanted him to touch me. To take me back to his room and fuck my brains out. Now, I wish it never happened. Maybe I should have gotten an abortion when I had the chance.

..

"You're moving!?" Emily shouted after my gig. I made a face and she stayed silent.

"Just for a few months. Until I have the baby." I shrugged, thanking the waitress for the basket of fries. Emily watched me.

"But....you're leaving! Leaving me and mom..leaving this."

"It's only temporary Em. It's not like I'll be gone forever. I'll call and write."

She sighed. "It's not the same. When do you leave??"

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow!?"

"Shhh!"

"I'm sorry! I'm just a little...why?"

"It's a long story for another day. I better get home to finish packing a few things. I leave tomorrow evening."

"So just like that, you're leaving?" She stood up with me as I left money on the table.

"I'll be back Emily. Calm down."

"But..."

"I'll be alright. Be good okay? Atleast for me." I smiled. She nodded and linked her arm with mine as we made our way out to call a cab.

..

Wednesday
October 12, 1966

2:40 pm

Paul paid for my plane tickets. He gave me the address of his home in London and expected me to meet him at the airport.

The plane ride was tiring, the drive made me nauseous, not to mention Martha was being fussy as we got off the second plane trip, finally arriving to our destination. I had to run to the nearest trash bin to puke my guts out, then find a restroom to brush my teeth. Life with Paul McCartney wasn't going to be easy. Bastard.

"Bout bloody time." He muttered, pulling me into a black vehicle. Martha jumped in and licked Paul's cheek. I made a face.

"I can't believe I'm here. I should be home."

"I'm a very persuasive man aren't I?" He grinned. I rolled my eyes and looked out the window.

"Where are you taking me? Off to get killed and rid of your world?" I glared at him.

"You cheeky little thing. No. Were off to mine, where you'll be staying."

My eyes widened. "Y...yours? What about your girlfriend?"

"She has her own place. Besides, I usually stay at hers whenever we..."

I just scoffed and shook my head. "Forget it."

When we arrived, I hid the fact I was in awe with how big his place was. I've never been in a home this big. Huge yard, large rooms, lots of space and room to think.

"So, what d'you think?" He asked smugly as we walked upstairs.

I just looked at him. "Shut up and show me my room."

He laughed and shook his head. "This is goin to be interesting. Look, aside from the fact I hate you, you can use all you need in this place. The kitchen, the yard, the living room..."

"I get it."

"Good. I 'ave an interview to get at so, I'll be back later."

I looked at the clock.

3:30 pm

"Fine. When will you be back?" I asked.

"When I'll be back." He said turning the light on in what I assumed was my room. He petted Martha and left me alone without any tour of the place. I guess I was on my own for now.

...........