I've Got A Feeling

Thirty Eight

"Paul! John! You guys came!" George had asked us if we wanted to come over for New Year's Eve and celebrate with him and Ritchie, which is the only person Hazza will ever talk about nowadays. Anyway, he asked us, and I couldn't decline because he sounded so nervous on the phone, so it turned into me having to bribe John a bit with the promise of breakfast in bed soon to come out of our comfortable bungalow. Plus, I wanted to see the bloke my mate has been talking about for months on end to no avail. Ritchie this, Ritchie that. Even over the telephone that's all I hear, him and what they did together. I practically could write a biography if I had the funding and materials. I'm not saying I'm any better at this, but there's boundaries. I try not to cross them as best I can.

"I didn't think you'd come after the awkward phone call." He was referring to the very sexual sounding call I was on the other side of during the Christmas holiday, and I just want to say I still shudder from the unadulterated queerness there was without context. "Of course we'd come you wank! We need to see this mystery muse you've been hiding from us." I only said it as a joke but now he's blushing like a bloody stop sign. Huh, that's weird. First the phone call and now this? It's probably nothing Macca, don't jump to conclusions. Besides, everyone makes queer jokes, it's just the normal banter.

"Besides, *I* need to see why he makes you all weak in the knees." There goes my boyfriend with his mouth. "John, behave. This isn't your flat and that certainly is not your business if there isn't any plausible reason for trouble or worry." I have been trying to get John to make less jokes about our sensitivity and the fact that George looks queer, but he never listens to me. It's like trying to control a mule. I could see the water collecting in George's eyes. I never thought that John would use our conversations like this as a way of daggers after being together so long. "Oh come off it, it's only a joke." "John I've talked about this to you before-" "I never mean what I say and you of all people should know that-" We were cut off before our bickering got worse. Soon there was a teddy boy in front of us holding out a hand for us to shake.

"Hi, I'm Richard Starkey. You can call me Ringo for all of the rings I wear. I'm sure Georgie here has talked plenty about me, but I am also his flat mate along with being his friend. It's a pleasure to meet you two." To say that it caught me off guard would be an understatement. He has a quiff, blue eyes and a larger than "normal" nose. He also is wearing four rings, so I guess I can pin him with honesty. I catch a glimpse of George with his head down and him grazing a hand against his face. Great job Macca, you're either going to make him cry or you made him cry. "Very nice to meet you Ringo. Yes, Geo has told me hardly any information about you, but I would love to know more. I'm James by the way, but please call me Paul, last name McCartney." I cleared my throat while kicking my new-found fiancé on the shin, hoping he'd answer. "Ow. Yes, tis in my fondness that I have finally met Sir. Ringo of England, ruler of Britannia. At last, you meet Sir John W. Lennon of Auld Eireland." I did have to keep a laugh in with that one, but my main proposition was to have a talk with John.

I whispered into his ear that I needed to talk and we eventually found George's room and shut the door, hoping these walls are thick enough to muffle exceeding amounts of noise. "What is wrong with you tonight? Can you stop being a complete ass for one second to let George enjoy his fun? He was really nervous about us meeting Ringo and then you decide to just throw gasoline onto the lighter." "Well, I'm sorry that I just wanted to spend this time with my boyfriend, happy without anyone else around who's probably a wank. I guess we can't enjoy that anymore." Everything was perfect during Christmas time, but now my fiancé has referred to his past self when we were only mates. It's like I don't even know who he is.

"You don't even know Ringo! Why can't you just give him a chance? He did nothing to you!" "You don't control me, I'm my own person! If I want to be an arse, then I'll fucking be one! I don't need you telling me how to live my life!" "Y'know, I thought that we had both changed, but it turns out yer just really good at hiding yourself!" It felt like a dagger against my back just uttering those words. Except these days my mind never shuts off, constantly telling me that maybe I haven't changed John at all in a good way, only making him worse off by being with rudimentary me.