#love me do: the beatles progress

[tavolgisvist]

That evening in the dressing-room of the cinema at York two girls came in and asked to interview them. They said they wanted the interview so they could make a tape of it for a third girl who was ill in hospital. John sat in a corner away from the group. ‘It’s probably just an excuse to get into our dressing-room,’ he says. ‘Anyway women should be obscene and not heard.’ ‘Switch it on now,’ says Paul conducting the interview for the bewildered girls. ‘What’s your name?’ he asks Ringo. ‘John’, says Ringo. He then asks the girls their names. ‘How did you like Germany when you were there?’ asks the girl whose name is Eileen. ‘We liked it fine,’ says Paul. ‘It was hard work,’ says Ringo. ‘Yeah’, says George. All during the interview they sign autograph books that had been sent to their dressing-room, and when they aren’t actually answering a question they read letters from fans. The girls walk over to John. ‘How do you write the songs ?’ says the girl whose name is Daphne. John doesn’t answer. Paul shouts across the room in a voice you use to an errant child, ‘Tell us about the songs, John, tell us about the songs.’ ‘Sometimes we write them together’, says John. ‘Sometimes not. Some of them take four hours; some twenty minutes. Others have been known to take as long as three weeks.’ ‘What’s your favourite song that you’ve written?’ ‘I think “Glad All Over”,’ says Paul, opening his eyes even wider. ‘No, I’m kidding. I think at the moment it’s our new record “I want to hold your hand”. Is that all right ?’ ‘Yes, that’s fine,’ says Eileen. ‘Thank you very much indeed.’ ‘Oh dear,’ says Daphne. ‘It doesn’t seem to have been recording. Sorry about that.’ <…> Inside, the compere is asking: ‘Do you want to see John?’ (Screams.) ‘George?’ (Screams.) ‘Paul?’ (Screams.) ‘Ringo?’ (Pandemonium.) They appear, and all during their act a man in a dinner jacket stands in front of the stage looking bewildered. The girls wave, hold up pictures, and scream. <…> Paul runs off stage shouting, ‘Oh my God, my ulcer. Nell, do you have a ciggy?’ Aspinall alternately hands him a cigarette and leads him toward the stage door where their car is waiting to take them to the hotel. <…>

The Beatles are in their hotel bedrooms finishing their dinners. George feels tired and goes to sleep. John, wearing a T-shirt and an old pair of trousers, wanders down the hallway past the guard, into the room shared by Paul and Ringo. The table filled with the empty dinner dishes is at the foot of Ringo’s bed. Ringo, dressed in pyjamas, is sitting up in bed. Paul, also in pyjamas, is talking about a film, The Trial, which he has just seen in London. He is describing a scene in which there is a misunderstanding about a word, when the telephone rings. ‘Hello, helloho,’ says Paul in a falsetto and then, realizing it is a friend, says Hello seriously. <…> ‘What I liked best in The Trial’, he says, ‘was when they walked quietly through the concentration camp. It was so dead quiet, just like another world and Elsa Martinelli in the background just necking like mad.’ <…> ‘Uh, I need another drink, baby,’ says John. Paul goes to the phone. ‘Hello? Yeah, send us six single Scotches - No, make it doubles, yeah, doubles.’ <…> They started discussing the feelings of adults towards pop music. ‘We’re definitely fighting a prejudice,’ says John. ‘That’s why I’m interested in John getting his book out,’ says Paul. ‘I mean, I haven’t got a cut or anything. It’s just that one of us would be doing something to make people notice. I mean, it’s the same as if one of us wrote a musical. People would get rid of their prejudice and stop thinking that pop people can only sing or go into a dance routine.’ <…> ‘You remember after that big spate of publicity we got in the national papers,’ says John, ‘which was uncalled for by our office. We were news at the time, and it only just happened we clicked in fourteen editors’ minds at the same time. One day Paul was ill and I believe one of the papers wanted a picture of him. Nell told them they couldn’t have it, and the photographer said: “You mean, after all the publicity we gave them �� we made them.” I’d like to meet this fella who said it.’ Paul explained that they never talk to the teenage magazines. ‘They just make it up. I think they prefer it that way…’

(Love Me Do. The Beatles Progress by Michael Braun, 1963/1995)

Part (I), (II), (III), (IV), (V), (VI), (VII), (VIII)

(+ about Paul's flue)

[midchelle]

In five years it would be 1968... he was planning it all along...

[i-am-the-oyster]

They don’t have to rely on off-colour jokes about homos for their fun.

Daily Mirror article about The Beatles quoted in Love Me Do The Beatles Progress by Michael Braun.

[shapelytimber]

Wanted to paint some of my favorite characters, nothing more nothing less

[COMMISSIONS]

Way too much yapping like an embarrassing amount, the individual portraits and the template I used below vvv

I shouldn't be allowed to talk about my favorite characters- especially to people who (presumably) don't know them xjfkdk apart from the very popular ones ofc

ILLYA KURYAKIN (The man from U.N.C.L.E)

gay ass little Russian spy I love him he is so *dramatic* and a huge nerd and a Beatles fan and into fashion design- perfect pocket size blorbo ;w; also seeing a Russian character being given a positive leading role in an American tvshow from the 60s ?? Yes he lives in New York and works for UNCLE America.... But he is still a communist ?? Incredible ! Also I really like the fact he isn't given the cliché personality traits often given to Russian characters i e anger issues drinks a lot violent ect (looking at you shitty(imo) modern remake... What did you do to my little guy ;;). In a close contest with Spock for the "gayest man from tvshow" of the 60s..... And in my heart he is winning djdkd for me the gay subtext of muncle hits so much more because it's not a scifi show- it's closer to home, Napoleon and Illya were *like that* in the present day of the 60s, they were both human, and no alien fuckery made them go to the village more than once or play house in the suburbs or get attached ass up to get pegged on a regular basis... Truly a show that feels written by an old queen and a guy with the biggest fem dom fetish jkvjjkb (don't get me wrong tho I adore star trek tos and spirk too <3)

KUROO HAZAMA and PINOKO (Black Jack)

sometimes I rewatch some of the oavs from the 90s when I'm sad :) I had a huge phase a couple years back when I read nearly all the manga (should really finish it... Or reread the whole thing frankly), watched *all* the shows (bar young black jack, hated that shit) and idk I just love this venal bitch so much- him and his daughter and his conflicted feelings for his tboy ex that he still loves kfkfkf btw I'm dying for a modern take on this like please please please I'd love to see Kei Kisaragi's story rewritten a bit (trans character in the 70s sure was progressive but oh boy-), because him and black jack's relationship makes me so *weak*.... And maybe see him a bit more than in one story- anyway ! When it comes to his daughter Pinoko, it's very hit or miss- when the writers lean on the cute father adoptive daughter relationship it's great, when they lean more on the whole "she has a crush on him" (very much like a child in most case, and he *never* reciprocate thank god) and bring up the fact she is technically 18 a lot (she was an evil tumor trapped in her sister before he created a body for her- black jack shit dw), and she gets jealous of other women.... Well it's terrible and I'm uncomfy :(

EVA KANT (Diabolik)

Look.... You just can't show me danger diabolik 1968 and not expect me to become insane djdkdkdk she is so cool ;; !!! Her and her devious eel of a man (here as a panther, because even tho I haven't read the comic yet, I'm taking an educated guess that all the panther imagery is here to represent him, the lethal twunk always in the all black gimp suit... And if it's not then fuck my entire life ig fjfkkd), the cuntiest het couple you've ever seen, such freaks I love them ! Partners in crime that will blow up the tax offices of the whole country if you try to put a bounty on them <3 they are in the guilty faves category only because I'm this invested in these characters after 1 (one) movie fkfkf watched the first two remakes and was hmmm let's say underwhelmed, could have been worse but going after the 60s one ie peak cinema was hard... I went in fully invested in these heterosexuals and they still fucked up their romance and relationship ;; (don't spoil me the third one btw haven't seen it yet ! I know it's the yaoi one- which doesn't give me much hope for Eva tbh...) I'll soon start reading the comics tho ! Managed to find all twelve volumes of "Il grande Diabolik" in french for pretty cheap so I'm excited for that :D (might scan them and upload them online because omg I tried finding scans in *any* language and only found a dubious website that sold digital copies for 7€ a volume ??? What is this)

UTA (The Void / Тургор / Turgor / Tension)

Apathy girlyyyyy she just like me for real for real nfkfk what absolutely charmed me about her is yes her design, but more importantly her chamber's design (if you've never played the void, a sister's chamber is a space that represent her. You get a sense of who she is by exploring her chamber before finding her and talking to her soul it's great). The lonely island out at sea, her laying down on a suspended steel boat in a grotto, looking passively at the moon by a crack on the ceiling.... And the moon is looking back. Incredible ! I love this game so much

KIM KITSURAGI (Disco Elysium)

Do I really have to explain this one ? When I played the game with quiji I remember I kept saying "when Kim talks, we *listen*" djkdk we did get a good grade in Kim Kitsuragi and got him to dance in the church <3 this fucking centrist cop wormed it's way into my heart and many others because of course he did. The only Kim K in my eyes. Also funny anecdote : before I played Disco Elysium, I had one concept art masterclass where a kinda famous concept artist came to give advice, make us really stressed then give us a shitty grade.... And when I tell you this man looked so much like Kim ??? Same haircut, glasses, face with a scar *exactly* where Kim's portrait has a stark shadow on his cheek and he was dressed in an orange top- truly uncanny. Anyway, Kim is so fucking cool how does he do it

DARK VADOR (La guerre des étoiles)

*sight* not surprising if you know me... and to be clear when I say Vader I don't mean Anakin Skywalker, post barbecue only zouz here. I refuse to yap about this man djdkdk I already do that way to much in ao3 comment sections

And here is the template I used ! Don't know who made it tho sorry...

PS : all these where made in 2-3 hours each :D wanted to challenge myself by painting quickly, and I mostly (looking at the Eva Kant one that gave me trouble) succeeded !

[lilithyvenus]

how your life is changing subtly - pick a picture

hiya 🌺 i hope you're well today. i find myself very jaded about life often, particularly in regards to things not going well, despite the universe being there for me. it is normal and absolutely okay to be angry with your higher power – you are human and they know anger is a healthy emotion, we're the ones who choose to demonize it. if you couldn't be angry with someone who supposedly loves you to keep their love, that would quite literally be an abusive relationship. disillusionment is expected, but you can't let yourself dwell in it longer than necessary.

while things can feel stagnant, we all know from experience that change is a slow process. rather than dwell on why it hasn't happened yet, this reading serves to look closer at and quite frankly, to stop minimizing your small progress.

to book a reading, message me directly. for $15, i answer two questions directly with additional cards pulled for advice from your guides, as well as a playlist of channeled songs and other media.

group one

your cards: two of cups + knight of wands + ten of pentacles

your channeled songs: you make loving fun by fleetwood mac + matrimony ii by tennis + better version of me by fiona apple

you are bringing yourself closer to healthy, fulfilling love with every fuckboy you refuse to engage with further than necessary. it may seem like love is evading you, but you're strengthening your boundaries and constantly reminding yourself through not settling that real, unconditional love exists out there and even if it doesn't, you are deserving of being seen fully and not just as a sexual object. you may dismiss your efforts because you do still entangle yourself with them, and that doesn't minimize your progress. you are able to see it for what it is now, in a way you didn't before you consciously chose real love over performing for unmoving backs. you go through the inevitable heartbreak with much more ease now because you realise that it's not the end. and honestly, if you've grieved one fuckboy, the ones that come after are light work. it may be more difficult to tell when they're good people now because unfortunately, these no-good creatures evolve, so even the wittiest, smoothest person can still turn out to be awful. but you're evolving too, and it says a lot that you're dealing with better devils, so to speak.

group two

your cards: ten of pentacles + judgment + the world

your channeled songs: luxurious by gwen stefani + it's my house by diana ross + in my life by the beatles

with every conscious decision you make to prioritize your physical well being, you bring yourself closer to feeling more at home in your body. it's not that you're not feeling and seeing results of your efforts, you just feel like it's an endless road. you're learning it's a lifestyle choice and it really does mean being able to honour your humanity – you can slip up or have off days, and that doesn't undo all the work you've already done. you're learning to enjoy taking care of yourself, no longer as a euphemism for weight loss. you're much stronger than you were before, and you need to acknowledge that more often. it's a bit tricky to keep on with it as a lifestyle because the novelty of change has work off, but every conscious decision you make that prioritizes your health in the long run is genuinely you living this "new" life of comfort.

group three

your cards: ace of swords + king of swords + the empress

your channeled songs: army of me by bjork + eartha by jamila woods + defying gravity (cynthia's version. the context of daring to be vocal when you're meant to be marginalized and silent is being emphasized here. of course that's the case with the other versions, but a Black woman singing that song adds a new layer to the themes of the story)

you are making yourself feel safer with speaking up and sharing your truth. you may be unsure about your progress because it does feel uncomfortable every time you do it, but the fact that you still choose action every time IS the progress. internally, you're honouring the value of your voice and your personhood. your attempts are clumsy and aren't as effective as you'd like them to be, but you will eventually achieve grace because you're committed to trying, every chance you get. additionally, now that you're indirectly validating yourself and your thoughts by trusting your need to speak up, you are less likely to speak when it's not necessary because you're learning to listen more. you may have a path where your words and voice will heal others, and this is your practice. every time you speak up, remember that you're showing up for a version of you that thought silence would make survival easier.

[keyofnow]

The Beatles Chronology

If music is at their heart, then their story is the clothes it wears.

Those who fail to appreciate The Beatles — and even many who do appreciate them — underestimate the specific progression of events that transpired during their journey, let alone the quickness of it all. The Beatles were a professional band for only seven years.

Here are the benchmarks of The Beatles‘ career from zero to hero :

YEAR 0

John Lennon, Paul McCartney, George Harrison, Pete Best.

Brian Epstein is The Beatles‘ manager as of a few weeks ago.

First studio audition at Decca (on New Year's Day).

Regular gigs at Cavern Club, Casbah, elsewhere in Liverpool.

First BBC radio performances.

First shows in south of England.

Original bassist Stu Sutcliffe dies.

Return to Hamburg, seven-week residency at Star Club.

First EMI studio session.

Pete Best is fired from The Beatles.

Ringo Starr joins The Beatles.

First TV appearances.

John & Cynthia marry.

First single “Love Me Do”; becomes Top 20 hit.

Opening for Little Richard (in Liverpool and Hamburg).

Follow up single recorded.

Last Hamburg residency (through New Year's Eve).

YEAR 1

Second single “Please Please Me”; becomes first chart-topper.

UK tour opening for Helen Shapiro.

Recording debut album in one day.

UK tour opening for Chris Montez and Tommy Roe.

First LP Please Please Me; becomes #1 for 30 weeks.

UK tour opening for Roy Orbison.

Third single “From Me To You”; first undisputed #1.

Paul starts dating Jane Asher.

BBC radio performances: Saturday Club, Easy Beat, and others.

Extensive UK concerts.

Hosting BBC radio series Pop Go The Beatles.

Fourth single “She Loves You”; first to sell million copies in UK.

First UK Tour as headliner.

Band meets The Rolling Stones; John & Paul write song for them.

London Palladium.

Beatlemania.

Sweden Tour.

Royal Variety Show.

Fifth single “I Want to Hold Your Hand”; has a million pre-orders.

Second LP With The Beatles; displaces previous album at #1.

The Beatles Christmas Show (three weeks in London).

YEAR 2

Finishing three-week run of The Beatles Christmas Show.

Three-week Paris residency at Theatre Olympia.

“I Want To Hold Your Hand” hits #1 in US.

First US Visit: Ed Sullivan, Washington Coliseum, Carnegie Hall.

Filming and recording soundtrack for first motion picture.

Sixth single “Can't Buy Me Love” (#1).

John publishes first book In His Own Write.

Hold top five spots on Billboard Hot 100 chart.

First World Tour.

First motion picture A Hard Day's Night; blockbuster.

Third LP A Hard Day's Night (#1).

Seventh single “A Hard Day's Night” (#1).

Frequent BBC radio and TV performances.

UK Tour dates; occasionally The Kinks and The Who open.

First US Tour; first rock tour by chartered jet.

Hollywood Bowl.

Meet Bob Dylan first time, get stoned.

Brian Epstein publishes autobiography A Cellarful Of Noise.

Eight single “I Feel Fine” / “She's A Woman” (#1).

First deliberate feedback on record.

Fourth LP Beatles For Sale (#1).

Another Beatles Christmas Show; Yardbirds (w Clapton) open.

YEAR 3

Finishing three-week run of Another Beatles Christmas Show.

Ringo and Maureen marry.

First full week of studio sessions.

First use of outside studio musicians.

Filming and recording soundtrack for second motion picture.

First direct exposure to Indian music.

Ninth single “Ticket To Ride” (#1).

The Dental Experience.

Paul records “Yesterday”.

Europe Tour; The Yardbirds (w Beck) open.

John publishes second book A Spaniard In The Works.

Tenth single “Help!” / “I'm Down” (#1).

Second motion picture Help!

Fifth LP Help! (#1 on pre-orders alone).

Second US Tour.

Shea Stadium (largest concert attendance in history).

LSD pool party in LA.

Roger McGuinn, David Crosby bring Ravi Shankar records.

Peter Fonda tells “I know what it's like to be dead” anecdote.

Hollywood Bowl.

Awarded MBE's.

One-month recording new album.

George introduces sitar to band.

First use: extreme equalisation; tape speed manipulation.

Eleventh single “Day Tripper” / “We Can Work It Out” (#1).

Sixth LP Rubber Soul (#1); first album with no filler.

Last UK tour; The Moody Blues (w Denny Laine) open.

Turn down offers for third motion picture.

YEAR 4

Three months off.

George and Pattie marry.

John gives “more popular than Jesus” interview.

Friends of The Beatles open Indica Bookstore.

John discovers The Psychedelic Experience by Leary & Alpert.

Two-and-a-half months recording new album.

Starting with “Tomorrow Never Knows”.

First use: backwards tape; tape loops; automatic double-tracking.

First Indian musicians on Beatles session.

Klaus Voormann (artist friend from Hamburg) designs cover.

Last Beatles concert in UK.

Twelfth single “Paperback Writer” / “Rain” (#1 in 12 countries).

Song is subtle plug for Indica Bookstore.

Last World Tour.

Death threats in Japan.

Kidnapped in Philippines, and the First Lady incident.

Last US Tour.

Beatle burnings in Bible Belt of US.

Thirteenth single “Eleanor Rigby” / “Yellow Submarine” (#1).

Ringo's first lead vocal on Beatles single.

Seventh LP Revolver (#1); first album they don't perform live.

Last concert at Candlestick Park, San Francisco.

Three months off.

John films How I Won The War in Spain.

Paul writes film score for The Family Way.

George studies sitar under Ravi Shankar.

Ringo visits John in Spain and holidays.

John meets Yoko Ono at Indica Gallery.

New sessions begin with “Strawberry Fields Forever”.

YEAR 5

Sessions evolve into concept for new album.

Fourteenth single “Strawberry Fields Forever” / “Penny Lane”.

First single in four years to miss #1.

Paul helps organise Monterey Pop Festival.

Eighth LP Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.

Our World broadcast, recording of “All You Need Is Love”.

Paul publicly admits to taking LSD.

Fifteenth single “All You Need Is Love” (#1).

Meeting the Maharishi Mahesh Yogi.

Brian Epstein dies.

Filming and recording soundtrack for new DIY movie project.

Sixteenth single “Hello Goodbye” / “I Am The Walrus” (#1).

Televised movie Magical Mystery Tour.

YEAR 6

George records original film score for Wonderwall.

Band holds last recording sessions before India trip.

Meditation retreat at Maharishi's camp in Rishikesh, India.

Hanging with Mia Farrow, Brian Wilson, Mike Love, Donovan.

Meditating, writing songs for next album.

Donovan teaches them new picking pattern.

Seventeenth single “Lady Madonna” / “The Inner Light” (#1).

George's first composition on a Beatles single.

Return to London (first Ringo, then Paul, John & George last).

Foundation of Apple Corps.

John and Yoko fall in love.

Band records Esher demos at George's house.

Twenty weeks of sessions for new double album.

Paul and Linda fall in love.

Jane Asher dumps Paul on live TV.

First animated film Yellow Submarine.

Eighteenth single “Hey Jude” / “Revolution” (#1).

Ringo Starr quits The Beatles.

John and Cynthia divorce.

Ringo Starr rejoins The Beatles.

Eric Clapton sits in on “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”.

The Beatles’ authorised biography published.

Ninth LP The Beatles, a.k.a. the “White Album” (#1).

John and Yoko busted for cannabis possession.

Hell's Angels crash Apple Christmas Party.

YEAR 7

Thirty days writing, rehearsing, recording and filming new project.

Directed by Michael Lindsey-Hogg, filmed first at Twickenham.

Glyn Johns audio engineer, George Martin musical supervisor.

George Harrison quits The Beatles.

Tenth LP Yellow Submarine (#2, behind The White Album).

Sessions relocate from Twickenham to Apple building.

Apple Studio installed in basement over weekend.

George Harrison rejoins The Beatles.

Billy Preston (unofficially) joins The Beatles.

Apples Studio sessions.

Rooftop performance.

John, George & Ringo hire Allen Klein as band's new manager.

John and Yoko marry (Bed-In For Peace in Amsterdam).

Paul and Linda marry.

George and Pattie busted for cannabis possession.

Nineteenth single “Get Back” / “Don't Let Me Down” (#1).

Twentieth single “The Ballad Of John And Yoko” (#1).

John and Yoko announce The Plastic Ono Band.

Sessions for one more album at Abbey Road.

Mostly leftovers from Get Back and the White Album.

Paul rejects Allen Klein as manager.

Band's last photo shoot together.

The Plastic Ono Band plays Toronto Rock'n'Roll Revival festival.

Band includes Klaus Voormann, Eric Clapton, and Alan White.

John Lennon quits The Beatles.

Apple keeps John's departure a tight secret.

Eleventh LP Abbey Road (#1).

Twenty-first single “Something” / “Come Together” (#1).

YEAR 8

Last Beatles session for new song; John does not attend.

Overdubs onto material for Get Back.

Phil Spector hired to produce soundtrack album for new film.

Paul McCartney publicly announces The Beatles’ breakup.

Documentary film Let It Be.

Twelfth LP Let It Be (#1).

Twenty-second single “Let It Be” (#1).

Ringo, Paul, George, and John all release solo records.

Paul McCartney sues to dissolve The Beatles.

Ever get the feeling there's something obvious you overlooked....?

🍏

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

James II Part I (Paul McCartney x Fem!Reader)

Find Part I Here

A/N: Hello everyone! I feel bad I keep disappearing for like a year at a time; I've been accepted into college, and I've been doing a lot of upgrading work to get there. I also got a job at a dispensary which is great; hitting the John Pennon is helping with major writer's block! Thank you for your continued support and patience while I'm doing all of this. It means a lot that you are all still reading my work, some of which are well over 5 years old now. It means a lot to me that so many people enjoy my writing. I do this for you guys, so your comments and opinions are so kind and encouraging for me to get more work done, so thank you!

I would also like to thank my editor @strawb3rri-le for helping me brainstorm and plan out this story; we're so excited for this one to finally get on a roll!

Summary: Paul, after a long week of working, makes a decision about the girl at the library.

This fic is still written in Paul's POV, and it will probably stay that way because I love knowing what he's thinking about. Also this is a part 1 to a 2 part chapter, so that will be coming after I finish writing a second chapter for another popular fic I was writing.

WARNINGS: I used Y/n a few more times again and I cringe every time I use it and it's so painful, but that's the price you pay when you write x readers, eh? I don't think there are any swear words, maybe some objectification of women if you close one eye and tilt your head, but it's from a "rockstars just get laid so easily" perspective so just take it with a grain of salt.

T rating just in case a swear word or 2 found its way in here

Paul was really busy that next week. He couldn't find any time to be by himself because of the responsibility he had in The Beatles.

The album A Hard Day's Night was to be released about two months from then, as well as the movie of the same name. The guys only wrapped up on filming a month prior, but there weren't enough songs yet to call the album an album. While Paul, John, Ringo, and George were consistent with writing and recording their songs well within their due date, there was always added stress when there was a time limit.

And, even with all of that in mind, there were talks of preparing another album for release in December. So there the band was, spending a whole week in a recording studio brainstorming different songs for A Hard Day's Night. They all played random instrumental chords and progressions, and sung gibberish until proper lyrics formed from the early hours of every morning until late every night.

That Friday evening, they all collectively decided to wrap up early, and take the following day off. Everyone seemed rather relieved. Their work was slowly moving along, but a day to reset, everyone could agree, was well needed.

Paul got home around seven, sighing in contentment as he passed through the front door and dropped his shoulders.

He could finally relax.

He set his bass on the floor by the door, shrugged out of his jacket, and kicked his shoes off before making a beeline for the sofa. He sighed again as he sunk into the furniture for the first time since the previous weekend. All he wanted to do was lie down, and he was so glad he could finally do it. His arms hugged the pillow at his head as his body began to unwind.

It had been a long week, and only now was Paul feeling the weight of the built-up fatigue...

He napped for only about fifteen minutes, but it wasn't planned. He sat up again a moment after waking up so he didn't fall back to sleep, rubbing his face and yawning. He was hoping to stay awake for another couple of hours. Maybe making some dinner was a good idea.

Paul got up and wandered to the kitchen, searching through the refrigerator and pantry, and settled on making a sandwich for his final meal of the night.

He got the ingredients and threw it together rather quickly, bringing it back to the living room so he could eat at the sofa. On his way there, he turned on the radio, and set it to a quiet volume, digging into his sandwich as soon as he sat down.

His eyes wandered his apartment for a few minutes as he ate, admiring his possessions and sentiments on the walls and sitting on display. Sometimes it was easy to take this place for granted, but some really long weeks recording, or being on the road, was enough for that appreciation for his personal space to return.

Paul finished his sandwich, and as he reached to place the plate on the end table to his left, he caught a glimpse of a little black book sitting there.

It was the book he signed out of the library from the week before. Since his recent schedule didn't take too kindly to free time, he actually hadn't touched it since being at the library.

After a moment of debate, Paul reached over for the book, trading it for the plate. He examined the cover again. It was black leather, adorned with intricate designs punched into it. The title of the book read "Gourmet Mushrooms of Europe."

Paul didn't really know much about cooking, let alone different mushrooms used for cooking. He opened the book up, and a ripped page fell into his lap. He lifted it up, eyes softening as he read what the paper said.

"Y/n," he mumbled tenderly, examining everything else further. All that was written on it was her name, a smiley face, and a phone number.

Paul took a moment of his time to think about the situation at hand. The situation with her.

Truth be told, Paul wasn't really even allowed to be in public without supervision at the time because of how ridiculous the mobs and fans could be; especially with him. He managed to sneak out that day to be out of the apartment, and away from the clingy bodyguards, and he was a little on edge from the idea of something going wrong and being caught. A quiet library seemed to be the safest place for him, and he could be left alone to do his songwriting in peace.

What happened instead was him stumbling into a strong, unexpected infatuation with a curious girl who didn't know who he even was-- and Paul was so torn on whether this was a good thing or a bad thing.

There was no denying Paul felt that being famous was rather exciting. The attention you can get from being as well-known as he, felt exhilarating, even more so when you know you could probably have any girl you could ever want. The feeling of being able to tease and flirt with the opposite sex so confidently, and have it be that easy to win them over was unlike anything anyone could imagine experiencing, and Paul's career was only going up from there...

But, man, doesn't all that attention just feel synthetic?

What if he wanted this girl? The girl who was clueless? The girl who thought he was just a regular guy?

What if Paul could fall in love, and it was all real?

What if he were just James?

Paul enjoyed y/n's company so much, and what she had to say about her interests, and knowing her better as a person was an idea Paul was naturally gravitating towards, as would anyone if they met someone they were interested in.

However, doing something like this was probably going to end in her finding out the truth, whether it be through the media, other people, or even him.

He could fix all of that right there and then by calling her, and setting the record straight by telling her who he actually was... and potentially put that unbiased romance at risk.

This plan, although the most reasonable, and conscious decision, unfortunately didn't sit well with him at all.

The problem from every angle here was that Paul kind of wanted to try and pursue her romantically, and he didn't want to endanger a future entirely dependent on who he actually was.

But on the other hand, what were his other options? What if not calling her at all would be the best option? And have Paul be bitter the rest of his life for not taking a chance and losing her?

Or what about keeping up with the James charade? Paul had already lied about his name. What's he gonna lie about next? His last name? His job? His family? At what point does the lying become too much? Ironically, this was the only way he could receive the genuine connection he wanted with her... to lie about himself, and seriously threaten her trust for him if she found out the truth.

He didn't want to believe the third option was his only option. He wanted to believe he was a good person, and would tell the truth...

And he wouldn't admit it-- not in a hundred years-- but there was a tiny, little voice in the back of his head, whispering among all the other thoughts he was having, and the voice asked, "but wouldn't it be interesting to see just how long you get away with it?"

This wasn't a high Paul was wanting to chase... but he just... couldn't help but wonder exactly that. How long would it take for her to find out?

Had it been any other girl in the whole world, Paul would not have been overthinking, or making such a ridiculously big deal about some white lie like this.

But this wasn't any other girl in the whole world. This was someone who saw Paul and treated him like a regular human being, unbeknownst to her that the kindness and humanity she offered him as person was unlike anything he experienced in his day-to-day life as a musician. She didn't ogle at him, nor did she scream in his face, she didn't throw herself at him or try and grab at him. She just smiled kindly with her pretty lips and asked him questions, and it didn't seem to matter whether or not she'd ever see him again; what mattered was that she was kind to him in the limited time she had with him.

Her reserved nature was what appeared to be drawing Paul in, and a part of him also wondered if someone like him, living the lifestyle he was, would drive someone as quiet, and as simple as her away?

He didn't feel sorry for her, per se, but he did also note that she mentioned she'd never been in a relationship before, and taking advantage of her and making her feel used was not something he wanted to do.

Paul blinked once at the paper before his eyes slowly drifted back across the living room before his gaze settled on the telephone. He felt like he was glued to the sofa, still thinking of every possible scenario in his head where this could all work out for him in the end.

He stood up after about another minute of debate, took a deep breath, and approached the phone, her number in hand.

He was going to tell her the truth. No more playing any games.

He picked up the receiver, and dialed her number, hesitating on the final one, but choosing to stand his ground. He could hear the ringing in the receiver, and every second passing was more time for anxiety to begin welling up within. For a split moment, he considered hanging up and calling another time, but then there was shuffling, and he held his breath as he heard a voice on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Uh-- Y/n?" He asked after a second, chest tight with nerves. "... From the library?"

"James? Is that you?" Her excitement could be heard in her voice, and Paul took a seat in the chair next to the phone, huffing a shaky breath, and feeling his burning face with the back of his free hand. His name coming from her mouth was quite the sound, he almost forgot just how much he liked hearing her call him that. It was personal, and endearing.

"... yeah, uh, it's me. How uh... how're you doing?" He sounded so out of place, and he didn't even know how to segue into explaining all of this to her. He'd only met her once, but keeping a secret like this from her when Paul had these plans to romance her just didn't seem fair at all. He figured some small talk would be a good way to warm up, and then he'd get to the nitty gritty. He dropped his free hand on his leg from his forehead, squeezing his knee as he waited for her to respond.

"I'm alright, thanks. I just did a longer day at work today, so I don't have too many extra chores for Monday, so that's nice. What about you? Reading up on your book at all?"

Paul's eyes fell to the book again, across the room, and he nodded a little, even though he hadn't. "Yeah, uh, a few pages. I've been a bit busy at work myself but... I do have tomorrow off."

"Oh, so do I! I'm just about done my book from last week, so I'll be going back tomorrow morning to exchange it for a new one!"

Paul furrowed his brow a little at what she just said. "... that massive green book? You're done it already?"

She laughed airily on the other line. "I'm a librarian, James; reading is my life."

There was a split moment Paul's morality slipped, and he appeared to be at a crossroads again.

"Y'know... you might just see me there! I uh... I like going there to do some work. I'll be going in the morning. Perhaps, if I see you, we could continue where we left off, y'know...?"

He couldn't do it. He couldn't tell her. He couldn't risk this.

"That actually sounds lovely! Maybe we can do what we did last time, and talk about books. Or... sit in silence as we read and work. We can do that too," she suggested a little awkwardly.

Paul smiled at her dorkiness, sighing a little laugh before assuring her, "I would love to do that. I'll be there around nine."

"Me too! I'm excited to see you again, James." Her gentle voice made Paul blush yet again, biting back his smile as he responded, "likewise, Y/n. Good night."

He hung up the receiver, his body coursing with different emotions. Excitement. Anxiety. Confidence. Frustration. Affection.

Paul knew he did wrong there, not doing what he originally intended.

To make himself feel better, Paul thought that he could still be honest with her about everything else in his life, like his likes, dislikes, interests, etcetera; so when the time came that he needed to tell her the truth, the blow wouldn't be so hard. He could flirt with her, and be romantic with her, like Paul typically would, and still be James.

Once Paul could convince himself that he and James were one and the same, that's perhaps when his confidence and swoon-worthy pickups would return.

After sitting in the chair for another moment longer, he looked back up to the mushroom book.

He got up, made a few strides over and picked it up, flipping it open and starting on the very first page.

Well... if he was gonna try on this James character, and impress Y/n with him, he'd better get practicing.

_____________________________________________________

A/A/N: Thanks for reading, guys! I know this one was kind of filler considering it's almost been a full year since updating, but thank you for sticking around anyways! A second chapter for Do You Want To Know A Secret is coming next, so keep an eye out! Also, I am completely revamping my Tag List, so please let me know if you want to be added, and you'll be notified of all my upcoming writing!

[torchlitinthedesert]

The Beatles were not even able to go to Brian’s funeral for fear of turning it into a media-and-fan circus. Ringo was so gutted the night before that he asked me to come with him and the others to a seance to try to contact Brian. But I didn’t want to do that. If my Eppy had come through, any words I could have spoken would have been inadequate, and it would only have made the loss of him worse. I’d always felt so touched that Brian, who always appeared uneasy in the company of young women, was so relaxed and happy with me.

In the end the Maharishi told Ringo not to hold on to Brian - to love him but let him go, because we were all powerful forces who could halt him on his natural progression to heaven.

‘You have to grieve for him and love him,’ the guru said, ‘but you also have to send him on his way.’

Cilla Black, What’s it all about? (2003)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA/WIBTA for attempting to learn ASL for a girl I like?

I work at a bar right off campus of my university and regularly perform (sing) when there aren't enough performers or acts to get us through a night. I like singing and making a big show, so this is fun for me. Also, this bar isn't strictly a queer/sapphic bar, but a lot of us are WLW and it's pretty well known around town so performing definitely gets me a lot of attention from a pretty quiet part of the queer community, if that makes any sense.

Anyways, there's this girl who also works at the bar, I'll call her Bri, and she's deaf. She's pretty good at reading lips, so we've had conversations before, but really we just see each other around. She works in the back on like numbers and business stuff (I honestly have no idea what she does) but she'll come out and watch me perform sometimes. She has such a nice smile and the way she's able to focus and pay such apt attention to anything she needs to is so inspiring. Basically, I like her a lot.

I live in the Inland Empire, so getting ASL lessons was super easy. I've been going since the semester started a little over a month ago and I'm really proud of the progress I've made. I haven't attempted to talk to Bri yet, I want to get better, but I've talked to some of my friends/coworkers about how I'm learning ASL for her and am planning on doing a live ASL interpretation of Oh Darling by the Beatles when I get good enough (Bri commented that she liked my performance of the song, so I wanted to bring it back.)

Jesus Christ this is long anyways I was telling people about my plan thinking they'd compliment me for being cute and romantic and like try to help me surprise her but instead, everyone told me I was being insensitive to her disability and tokening her by making her deaf-ness so central to my attraction to her. I didn't think I was doing this, I thought this was more of a gesture to show how I like her despite our communication barrier? I don't know, I've started really overthinking it.

Another thing I've started wondering is if doing this performance (which I've already started working on) would be manipulative since I've never outright asked Bri if she likes me, even though I'm 1000% sure she does, she asks about me and we get along and yeah I'm really sure she does but I guess I don't know for absolute sure so on the chance that she doesn't like me, would this whole thing be a way of me pressuring her into liking me since I've put so much effort in without telling her?

I'm really lost. I really like this girl and I want to do something big and grand. I've also really fallen in love with American Sign Language and the process of learning it. The idea of making Bri uncomfortable because I don't know what it's like to be deaf/have a disability is really making me rethink all of this. Any advice please.

What are these acronyms?

[m1ssunderstanding]

Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 1.4

Oh, John. It's hard because I'm like “fame was not good for that man” but I'm also like “he would've gone crazy with self-loathing if he didn't have the fame.”

John and Paul start to answer a question at the same time. John: no, go on, you can say it. They're seriously so married. 

John's schoolboy flirting is cute, but what's more noteworthy to me is a) how happy Paul is to be shoved and b) how he instantly leans back into John. It's like they're bungeed together or something. 

John gets me. Look how much he loves Paul bringing out the forced confidence shield to protect him. He's so in love. So turned on. 

Here's my question about the death threats. Did the other Beatles actually receive them and tell Brian about them and keep them from John? Because that would be incredibly sweet and noble of them, but also, in that case, surely John received death threats too. Meaning he just didn't care about his own life and assumed the others were being left out of it because they hadn't actually said they were bigger than Jesus. Or did they have people filtering all their mail by that point? And Brian had been keeping the death threats from all of them? Because that could be interpreted as both protective and selfish of him. Does anyone know?

Again. I just love how Paul goes to bat for John over and over during this tour. Batting his eyes and playing with his hair and shouting down any and all criticism of John speaking his mind.

This moment is so telling to me. An interviewer who was up front at several concerts points out the looks and smiles between John and Paul which you can only see from the front and asks, “is it really that much fun every time?” The easy answer is, “Yeah. We like what we do. It's fun!” But Paul gets cagey. “Oh well the thing is you know with things like that it's probably…” and he makes up a bullshit story about messing up on a song they haven't performed in a year. Why do that if you don't have something to hide? (Even if you're subconsciously hiding) That right there is a tip-off for me that they're not normal about each other. 

Interviewer: are you guys breaking up? John, immediately and emphatically: No. Paul: "Depends what you mean by breaking up, you know . . . Because we can't go on forever like this, so we've got to think now and prepare for, you know, if it did happen. The time has come for us to break up, but we've realized the possibility . . . Of breaking up as a natural progression." Literally shut the fuck up right now, you're going to give John an aneurysm.

I understand. I know. I don't relate to Paul much but I do relate to his hyperactivity and his avoidant attachment. I make sure constantly that I'll be okay when all my relationships end. But you don't talk about that in front of the other person. Especially someone like John whose worst fear is being left. Come on. Think. 

See, now look what you did, Paul. Here's John's answer the next time they're asked about breaking up. 

And yeah, the klan being the ones to “stand up against the Beatles blasphemy” really proves my point from the last post I think. It's just masked racism. 

It actually seems like Paul's more vocally political at this point in time than John is. I wonder what happened to change that? Was it just the influence of their respective wives? Was it just easier for them to play up the roles they'd been assigned for the most part?

Okay on this round of “are you breaking up” they look at each other first before they answer and then Paul goes “all together probably.” I wonder if they talked about their previous answers together and admitted – however cautiously or however veiled – that hearing the other say they might leave hadn't been fun. Who knows, honestly.  

Paul and John often talk about making a radio show together apparently. Gosh if only they could've done that now. I'd make them my token white boy podcast. It'd be great. They'd be so lame and so adorable and they'd talk about recipes and politics and they'd gossip and rank other people's music. But anyway, what really gets me is the often bit. So they really did plan their post-beatle future together. Enough that it was a frequent topic of discussion between them. They planned to be together forever. 

Ugh it always guts me that Paul brought a girlfriend to Paris with him to meet up with John.

Okay my tin hat is glued to my head for this but. But. Hear me out alright? So John starts filming on 09/19/66. He's there for 6 &½ weeks. Putting the end at the beginning of November, right when Paul goes in disguise and alone to Paris. Do we have tabs on John for those dates? John just talked about going around Paris in disguise. What if  they met up by themselves and in secret? What then?

 No fucking wonder John was exhausted with him. Damn. He takes a month and a half to write strawberry fields, shows it to Paul, then...

Interviewer: the songwriting team will keep going whatever happens will it? John: yeah, we'll probably carry on writing music Forever. It's just so ‘Obviously. Might as well ask me if the sun's going to come up tomorrow.’

His friend – try dangerous drugs with and take home to daddy type “friend” – just died brutally and suddenly two days ago, and this is what he looks like and talks like and he's going in to work like it's nothing. I just. Compare that to John talking about Brian's death? Obviously two very different relationships but still… Paul's upbringing really fucked him up so hard. He thinks he's not allowed to be human. What can I say? It's a drag.

AKA the happiest 6 months of John and Paul's lives. 

I find it fascinating that Paul alone is asked to compose and record what would eventually become the carnival of light and that he just went ahead and included everyone in that. Really makes me wonder if he got a vibe off John that him doing the family way alone was hurtful or if they maybe even talked about it? Or maybe he just didn't like doing the family way without John.

Actually quite a lovely, forward-thinking, humble speech. Imagine being John, though. Watching that from home like “why the fuck is he philosophizing to the world without me?” Because you know John shares all those sentiments and might even have got there first. It would be infuriating.

“A lucky man who made the grade” is an interesting way to describe Tara and I can't help but wonder if it has anything to do with Tara being cool enough for Paul to associate with him. And Paul is many things but stupid is not one of them. He's going to at the very least wonder if this verse is about John laughing at his friend's death. Right? Like I know Paul's the repression CEO but seriously I don't think even he is that good. 

Maybe that Leopold and Leob quote isn't just about tearing people down verbally. Maybe Wooler genuinely got a vibe of a sense of superiority and therefore lack of empathy with Lennon/McCartney.

I mean he really does sound like he's describing sex though, doesn't he? Emotional, loving, romantic sex. Followed immediately by Paul's “I'd love to turn you on” lyrics and the “down with pants” and “sword swallower” pins. Alrighty then. 

What I would call my Beatles bio after watching this. "They Touched Dicks: The Only Logical Conclusion."

[fireintheimpala]

McLennon Playlists

I have been working putting together some McLennon playlists. I mean "McLennon" pretty broadly and vaguely with these lists, so choose your own adventure. It's a useful short portmanteau for for the creative partnership of Lennon/McCartney. But I do also think there is a powerful human relationship here, disregarded from the classic Beatles narrative. And I think this relationship is pivotal to much of their songwriting.

This is a work in progress but here are the acts so far:

Act I: The Beatles before India '68. This is a foundational period. For the most part, I don't think these songs are consciously referencing each other. Rather, they providing a foundation for future references. That said, I think Hide Your Love Away deserves a second look.

Act II: The Beatles after India '68. The contrast is remarkable. Not everything on this list is written by Lennon/McCartney. I think George's While My Guitar Gently Weeps is actually the best expression for the whole time. Anyway, they're breaking up. Passionately. Chronology is a total mash since most of these songs were written or produced in a small period of time.

Act III: The 70's up through approximately 1975. Here especially the chronology of songs begins to be sacrificed for highlighting some back and forth. I personally find their mirroring right after the Beatles--with the front and center band wives and antipodal messages right when they're sending each other cutting missives through hit singles--hilarious. But after that you get this escalating back and forth in moods. Still sent through international hits! Lol. Which they simply presume will work. Anyway, if you listen in order, the positivity increases. Unfortunately, a playlist shift is required once John returns to Yoko in 75ish.

Act IV: '76ish through 1980. After a period of musical productivity and reconnecting with old friends including McCartney, John returns to Yoko. Let's not weight into that but merely note that it changes all music vibes for both musicians. John goes completely silent for 5 years, except for later release home demos. (I'm using Spotify for this which doesn't have most of Lennon's demos unfortunately. But the demos for Free as a Bird and Real Love are recorded during this time so those songs are included. Now and Then demo also, but c'mon let's save that.) McCartney in the meantime writes a series of IMPASSIONED songs about things like his baby who won't call him back, and his lover who needs to beware. Idk what is going on with Wings in production, but LIVE he is absolutely wailing. He starts '76 going on tour worldwide with every song so far I would ever include in these lists. He wails into that void so hard... Things dip, but then escalate back up in 1980. Coming Up. Starting Over Again. But then unfortunately...

Act V: Post Dec 8, 1980. Pending. There's a lot here, but it's so sad it's taking me awhile.

Please contribute suggestions if I've missed relevant songs!

I'll be working on providing more details explanations of some song inclusions.

[tavolgisvist]

Scouse

Viscount Montgomery Brian Epstein’s personal assistant Barry Leonard quit his job ‘because the strain of managing the Beatles is just too great’. In an article in the Daily Express Leonard told about his experiences with the Beatles. Among other things, he said Paul wanted to leave the group and was trying to lose his Liverpool accent. As the Beatles gathered at the office of their accountant, Epstein mentioned the story to Paul. ‘Barry says you are trying to lose your accent,’ he said. ‘Couldn’t,’ muttered John, as he examined a likeness of the Beatles fashioned in papier mâché.

(Love Me Do. The Beatles Progress by Michael Braun, 1963/1995)

Part (I), (II), (III), (IV), (V), (VI), (VII), (VIII)

After a short interview in which they sound like they're putting on Liverpool accents (particularly Paul and John), 'and now their new single Love Me Do'. 'FANTASTIC…turn it UP!' (I shouted in my head). That's my brother…my bloody brother!…My head's exploding…'so ple-e-e-se love me do'.

Photo by Mike McCartney <…> I dashed back to Forthlin to tell Dad I'd seen our Paul on the TELLY and then waited for Paul to come home to see if he'd changed at all. By the time he eventually got in, Dad and I were in bed but I was still awake. The conversation probably went like this: 'Psst…here you.' 'Is Dad asleep?' 'Of course he is, it's past two o'clock.' 'We were celebratinh. Did you see it?' 'Yeah it was gear, it really was.I had to watch it in a bar down from Bernard's, but it was fabulous.' 'Could you see the velvet collar?' 'Sure, you could see everything.' (When the decision to 'go commercial' and buy suits instead of the cool Hamburg leathers was reached, mainly by Brian, Paul had smoothed over the shock by saying, 'But ours are different from anybody else's…ours have got velvet collars…look.' As the cardboard box lid was lifted and the white tissue paper unfolded to disclose the dark blue 'Dougy Millins' tailor-made suit, sure enough, the highly polished, trouser creased, mohair suit was topped with a black velvet collar.) 'But why did you talk like that on the TV? It sounded like George gone wrong…you don't talk like that.' 'I know that, you know that, but they don't know that…It's part of the image…' 'Monkey suit and phoney accents?…anyway it worked, it was fantastic.' 'Gear, I'll be off then, ny nyte.' 'Nigh-night…psst can I have your autograph?' 'Sod off.'

(Mike McCartney, 1981, Thank U Very Much. Mike McCartney's Family Album)

Part (I), (II), (III), (IV), (V), (VI)

Interviewer: Are you going to lose some of your Liverpool dialect for the Royal show? Paul McCartney: No, we don't all speak like BBC

(Interview 16th Oct 1963, befor the Royal Variety Charity)

We went to London to party. I always tell this story, it happened pretty much like this. The week before Merseybeat broke up here [in London], or a couple of weeks before, I was just with my friends, and you were at a posh party, and they'd come up to you [adopts 'posh' voice] 'hi, how are you?' 'Great, thanks.' 'My name's Peregrine, and this is Cecilia…' 'Oh, great, hi.' 'Where are you from?' 'Oh, Liverpool…' 'Anyway, Cecilia, you said…' And they just turned their backs on you, because it was so simple - you were useless to them, useless. Anything north of the Cape was the hinterland, the jungle. So they couldn't care less. And then, a week later, Merseybeat suddenly goes 'bang!' He goes down to London before he conquers America and the world… and it's the same party, "Oh, I'm Sebastian, this is Claudia, what's your name?" "I'm Mike." "Where are you from?" "Liverpool." "Liverpool, oh my God, guys, come here, look, these guys from Liverpool, it's just wonderful." And then they'd do a Liverpool accent, and that's why it always came out Brummie [Birmingham], because they couldn't do a Liverpool accent. So, yeah, you were a nobody, and suddenly everything changed.

(Mike McCartney, interview for the Super Deluxe Edition, September 26, 2019)

pic by lisamarie-vee

+about suits

[hannahbellinger]

Little The Crux thoughts

(I'll be adding more to this probably? Idk I'll spend a lot of time listening to the album because I really liked it and it suits the type of music I've been listening lately so... )

- Lonesome Is A State Of Mind is one of my favorites — if not my favorite — tracks. The beginning feels like finding the You Only Live Once/I'll Try Anything Once demo (by The Strokes) for the first time when I was a teenager. Then the song CHANGES, the lyrics are so well rounded but the sounds keep changing. THE ENDING IS SO GOOD SO SO SO SO GOOD

- Joe wasn't kidding when he talked about mixing genres, singing tones and styles. He worked his voice in many different ways which is really cool, guy is so compromised in getting better at his craft but still having fun with it. You can feel how professional the entire album, but you can also feel like everyone involved had fun, let loose, got stressed, let loose again, worked hard but had a blast. He was really intelligent by choosing to take a more analog process instead of the digital approach of the two first albums, it fits this one better. (It also applies to the whole aesthetic)

- Egg is such an amazing song. Especially with Djo being comfortable to let his actor persona be mixed with his music project. Like... Being Joe Keery doesn't get in his way of being Djo.

- Man that breakup was hard, eh? I don't know if I felt it too much because I'm heartbroken and trying to get over it, but- Fly made me want to bawl my eyes out, yes Djo falling back to him could be easy to do but I must fly away from him yes yes bro I GETCHA!!! (I don't think I need to mention Delete Ya, I mean the TITLE OF THE SONG LMAO) guy was S A D when writing some of those lyrics and I hope putting them out and singing them on tour feels cathartic to him!!!

- I LOVE THAT CHARLIE'S GARDEN IS SO HEAVILY BEATLES INFLUENCED!!!!! He stated that The Beatles used to be a band he associated with his sister. It's sweet that Charlie Heaton is in it, idk, it makes me think about how important this friendship must be to him

- My immediate family is me, my sister and her husband. Back On You is SUCH a great song and it feels like my home lmao my brother in law feels like a brother to me, so yeah I used to say I didn't have a brother, well guess I can't say it anymore. It's a fun and amazing song.

- Gap Tooth Smile is so cute ugh . It's cute in a strange way, I love it.

I'll probably have more to say but it's a no-skip album for me like I imagined. His influences are artists that I enjoy and his music fit the moment I'm living, it's probably one of the albums of my year, one of those that will take me back to being 29 in the future. I like all the experimentation done there and even though some songs caught me more than others, I think it's a moment thing and I'll be revolving around all of them. I LOVE THE PRODUCTION. I LOVE THAT IT WAS RECORDED ON ELECTRIC LADY STUDIOS, THE ATMOSPHERE IS AMAZING 😭 I don't know if The Crux will have a song that is as viral as End of Beginning, but it will fidelize many fans, definitely. I'm really happy that Joe is so keen on learning, improving himself, having good people in his band, putting so much effort and detail on everything about Djo. This is a special album and I can't wait to see how he will progress as a musician.

[crepesuzette2023]

Hi, lovely Crepesuzette! Thanks a lot of your inspiring blog, your fics and always helpfull #fic recs! And can I ask any recs for good fics where John in the end understend the shit he did for Paul? All of this HDYS, Melody Maker, Rolling Stone etc, which not only hurted Paul but they ruined his self-esteem and creative reputation, you know. Thanks again! Love you and want you be happy everyday like you do it for me :)

Hello there, thank you for the ask—and for your kind words. Very welcome, esp. since real life has been low grade shit these past few days.

So...your ask make me think of stories where things are not only better than they were in this (clears throat) reality as we know it: there's also a focus on mutual understanding, peace-making, forgiveness. Yes?

These came to my mind...and making this list made me realize I'm really in the mood to re-read some of them! In the 70's:

stuck inside these four walls (@monkberries). Lost Weekend. John and Paul get locked up until they resolve their shit.

i can only speak my mind (@revollver). 70's. Paul reads John's 'secret' diaries that have been leaked to the press, and understands him—and himself—better.

forth and back (@monkberries). 70's—80's. Paul and John talk through songs.

A Toot and a Snore (@glowing-gold). Lost Weekend in LA. That jam session is on the page in real time, as is their slow and hot reconciliation. Will never forget the description of moustache-Paul and his nipples, *fans self*

They Say it's Your Birthday (@ohjohnnysblog). 1979. A personal favorite. Warm, nostalgic phone sex in the spirit of peace and friendship.

Down on the Farm (RosalindBeatrice), 1974. John is exposed to Wings, Paul's family, and Paul's hotness, and realizes it's all meant to lure him back...

You Will, You Will, You Will (@eveepe). John and Paul and Linda take the plunge. Excellent tension...over the phone and in person.

February in New Orleans (@eveepe). 1975. John and May visit Paul and Linda in New Orleans. Resentment is desire's favorite costume. Everyone has a good time, 2/4 have a hard-on (I am sorry).

Adventures in Total Honesty (@merseydreams). 1975. Paul and John meet backstage, and have it out. A+ banter, and so many things I wish Paul had said. Also: sex.

The lights go down (they're back in town) (@backbenttulips). 1977. Paul and John are trapped in an elevator at the Dakota. The power goes out. John comes back to live.

Something Borrowed Something New (@inspiteallthedanger). 1979. The former Beatles meet at Pattie & Eric's wedding. Paul and John face some truths.

six hours in august (@stonedlennon). 1979. A chance meeting in NYC. The love is still there.

I Still Miss Someone/ I Know That I Miss you, but I Don't Know Where I Stand/ Close the Door Lightly When You Go (RosalindBeatrice). 1976-1979. Paul and John become lovers, but their lives have changed. John feels guilty about the past, Paul has a family...Mutual empathy is needed, and accordingly grows. But it doesn't come easy.

1980 and Onwards:

The Birthday Party (@merseydreams). John and Paul meet at Ringo's Birthday Party. Paul has had therapy, and John wears denim shorts. There is only one bed.

Free Man in Paris (@backbenttulips). John and Paul get married in Paris in '61, and get a divorce seven years later. But it's not the end.

Memory Lane (@ohjohnnysblog). Old, married John and Paul leaf through a photo album and reminisce about the past, including past lovers.

and when broken bodies are washed ashore (who am i to ask for more) (wardo_wedidit): John and Paul. Now and Then.

Bermuda (@scurator): John and Paul are grown-ups and know what they want (each other, to start with).

Take A Sad Song and Make it Better (@javelinbk). 1980. John visits Paul in 1980, and they revisit the past, including their love. But their families don't magically disappear. Also by @javelinbk: Our Version of Events (Part 1, Part 2 (in progress)). 1971. Reading fan fiction helps John and Paul realize what's happening, and what's been happening in the past.

Going Nowhere (@inspiteallthedanger). 1980; John survives the shooting and returns to England. I think of this one as 'they talk about it' fic.

Comprehensive Fix-Its:

The Contract (JP). The story of John and Paul, with a happier (though bizarre) ending, and a lot of sex (good).

i was a younger man then (now) (post hoc) (@fingersfallingupwards). The story of John and Paul à la The Time Traveller's Wife. It takes them a long time—but in the end they do understand and forgive each other.

[classicrocknlove]

~Jimmy Page Fanfiction~

Spread Your Wings

“I’m just looking for an angel with a broken wing…. But somehow, they always seem to fly, fly away…”

-

Chapter One

July 25th, 1973. New York.

-

Cynthia’s P.O.V.

“Cynthia! Come de-brief!” Paul. Paul had been my boss for around six months now- has been driving me crazy for five. I started writing for the local Manhattan magazine “Foxy” over two years ago. The magazine covers popular bands that roam around America, and I have been the sole one in charge of traveling to and from bands, whether it be when they would play gigs in New York, or even across the country in Los Angeles. I enjoyed the traveling, even though I really wanted to write for a political or medical publisher. This magazine was my way into the journalist industry, really the only magazine that would take on an inexperienced writer such as myself, but music, especially rock music had never been my “forté”. But, the traveling, late night concerts and interviews kept my mind off of my rather dull, righteous, lackluster life.

I had been working for a publisher by the name of Eric Erickson for my first year and a half as a journalist for the magazine. He was a shy, quiet man of sorts but incessantly adored music- rock, the blues, really any music that spoke to him. He climbed to the top of the magazine a few years ago, but decided it was time to move on to other ventures. He hired Paul, now my boss, whom holds a particular liking of teasing me, busying me with unnecessary tasks, and always babysitting my stories. He’s a British know-it-all, insisting on making my life miserable.

Paul came from Rolling Stone, a seemingly “shit” magazine, as many rockers would classify it. Known for its dismissive comments of many American and English bands, unless, of course, you are The Beatles. Paul had written for Rolling Stone for five years before moving to our smaller magazine to have more of an ““intimate” writing experience” for himself. I would love to call his bluff, ask him if he had really just been fired or passed over for a promotion, but I cannot step out of line with a man like Paul. He’d throw me to the curb any chance he’d get. I had to stay cool, calm, and collected. Though sometimes, I wanted to give him a good right to the jaw.

“So, what are we working on now?” Paul turned in his swivel leather chair, facing me as I took a seat in a much smaller, lumpy chair that sat across from his desk. His big wooden desk the only being separating us as I laid my prepared notes and story-in-progress down onto it. Before I could retort, Paul had snatched the papers from in front of me and began scanning them over. Here comes the snide remarks and…

“This looks good. Little pretentious for a band like Black Sabbath, but it’s okay so far.” He interrupted my thoughts with his, somehow, up-to-scratch review on my writing.

“Well, yes, it’s not done yet. I have some tweaking to do, but I really wanted to put all of the information I received from the members, as well my own research I completed about them.” I explained, hoping he’ll understand my thought process. I try to approach every band with a blank slate. I never try to focus on too much of what I hear before actually meeting them myself.

“Yes, anyway,” he dismissed, I had to control my eyes that dared to roll at his shameless rudeness, “there is a band coming to town that I need you to interview. I’ve set up a meeting with their manager.” His face was blank and his stare bore into my eyes, requiring a fast reply from me- like always.

“Okay. Who-“ I started but Paul, as usual, interrupted my inquiry with his loud, sharp voice that always demanded immediate understanding.

“Led Zeppelin for Christ Sakes. Don’t you read the papers?” Paul shook his head as he fiddled with his pen to write something down on a loose scrap of paper among papers flailed across his desk.

“Well, I know they are finishing their tour, but I wasn’t exactly sure if they were visiting New York or not.” I tried to reason but Paul couldn’t have cared less about my justification. He continued on with his instructions, ignoring me.

“Here. This is the address where they will be waiting for you. Time and place. Apparently, they don’t allow separate transportation of interviewers, film editors, nobody other than the band and crew. You will be transported to where the band is staying before the concert.” Paul hands me the crumpled, slovenly piece of paper that looked as if he spilled his morning breakfast burrito grease on it.

“Okay… so I am attending the concert dates?” I inquire, though am again met with Paul’s distaste for my lack of mind reading.

“Bloody hell. If you don’t get the damn information that you need tomorrow, attend the concert. All three if needs must. Do what you need to do. This is our big one. Just don’t fuck the band, eh?” He tells me as he looks at me with complete disdain. A sexist, misogynistic lunatic who only cares about his own success.

I get up from the raggedy chair, picking my notes up from Paul’s desk, in mixed order (which was not how he found them) and began to stroll out of his office.

“You wear a skirt like that tomorrow, you’ll have those boys in a right fiddle. They’ll be putty in your hands..” Paul’s rigid smile appears, teeth crooked and yellowed. I ignore his remark and fast-walk the rest of the way out of his office.

I tug at my skirt as I sit back down in my chair at my much smaller desk compared to Paul’s, to continue my journey of writing about Black Sabbath.

—

July 26th, 1973.

I woke up in the morning feeling refreshed, but nervous. Led Zeppelin had become huge, especially in the states. They were known for their antics at hotels, with girls, groupies, and substances. As I’ve always said, approach the bands with a blank state, but it was hard to ignore the band’s reputation.

I dressed myself in some of my best, feeling comfortable. I wore a high-neck pink, short-sleeved babydoll dress with white heeled babydoll shoes to match. The back of the dress tied at the top and middle, and I tied both of the knots carefully. The dress produced a higher neckline, reaching just to the top of my chest where my chest and neck meet, but boasted the open back, where the ties happened to be. I tied them a bit loosely, allowing the back of the dress to fall open slightly.

As I took my book, writing utensils and a refreshment out of my small apartment door, the boy across the hall, Roger, was coming out of his apartment as well. The brown-eyed brunette with a hint of a tan stepped out of his door and looked directly at me, flashing me a smile.

“Hello, Cynthia. You look great. Heading to work?” He asked. He was always so kind and has asked me on several dates. I declined but still insisted on being friends with him because of his unapologetic sweetness. He was gentle and non-abashing, and I liked him. But I didn’t see him in a romantic way. He was more like a friend or brother. He was younger than me and quite innocent like myself.

“Yes! Another day, another band. You know.”

He smiled again as we walked down the three flights of stairs I dreaded every tired morning. But, with Roger’s beaming smile, he made this morning a little less groggy and weary. My nervousness drifted away as Roger and I hopped on the subway just down the street from our complex.

We frequently rode the subway together. Our work schedules varied, but our routine was pretty similar. I always had to get off the subway before him because I worked closer to the apartment complex, but today it appears that I’d be stopping and getting off the bus at his regular stop.

“I’m going to this address. Familar with it by chance?” I ask Roger and he studies Paul’s sloppy handwriting before nodding assuringly.

“Yes, that’s right down the street from the printing plant. I can walk you there if you’d like.” He offered his usual smile and warm-heartedness. I nodded back to him with a small smile, agreeing to the kind gesture. The subway took its time, as it usually did. Stop after stop. Face after face. Wipes of eyes and yawns from individuals heading to their jobs.

It wasn’t too early. About 9:30am once we got off the subway. ‘Perfect timing’ as Roger stated. He starts his shift at 10. So did I, but I usually appeared at my job a little earlier to get a head start on things.

We walked up from the dark aisles of the subway and up to the main land. The streets of Manhattan bustling and loud and smelling of auto fumes and roasted nuts, the dampness of the cool summer morning welcoming us in our stride.

I held the paper in my hand and read the addresses of the buildings. We were getting closer to my destination as the numbers of the addresses grew similar to Paul’s sloppy printing on the wrinkled piece of paper.

Soon enough, we were in front of a brick, two story building that had four large windows on the front of it. Two up top, two on the bottom. And a glass door in the middle of the picture windows framing the bottom story.

“This is me!” I stated to Roger and he nodded and shuffled his feet on the cement beneath him, shyly.

“Would like me to walk you in? You know, these rockstars can be a handful.” He laughed lightly.

“Oh yes, but I think I’ll be okay.” I returned a chuckle and looked back towards the building. A couple of men with long locks stood upon the small balcony on the second floor, looking down at Roger and I. I gave them a second look and they looked away, as if making sure I didn’t think they were eavesdropping, their cigarette smoke wafting around them.

I gave Roger a brief hug and a goodbye and I started toward the door of the building. Roger stood and watched and gave me a quick “thumbs up” as I smiled and nodded.

I used a hand to push open the glass door that had hand smudges along the glass panes. I walk into a small lobby area with burgundy carpeting and mahogany furniture littering the area. I turn towards an older woman working at a small makeshift desk next to one of the two picture windows.

“Hello. May I help you?” She asks with a polite, soft voice and I nod fastly.

“I am Cynthia. Im looking for a manager of the band. A….” I struggle getting the crumpled note out of my book to state the name of the band’s manager that I had seemingly forgotten. Stupid, stupid.

“A Peter Grant?” I inquired, but a loud, deep voice coming from the black staircase in the middle of the lobby bounded upon me, stopping me in my train of thought.

“That would be me. And you, Miss Cynthia, it is?” The man, Peter I presume, stands at the bottom of the staircase, tall and large and curious about my appearance.

“Yes, I am here to get to know the band.” I always try to not include the word “interview” in any of my meetings with bands. Much too formal. But Peter didn’t take this lightly and made sure to correct my speech.

“Get to know? We haven’t that much time. This isn’t a groupie session. You are here to interview the band, yeah? Let’s get on with it.” He starts back up the stairs, his large body taking slow but big steps on the rickety, wood staircase. I give the kind receptionist one last worried glance before heading up the stairs behind Peter, trying to keep up with his headstart.

As we walk upon the round staircase, I hear voices booming from one of the rooms upstairs. Laughing, yelling, and chatting boisterous voices come from the large room located to the left of the staircase. I become curious of who could be making such noise so early in the morning.

We reach the top of the stairs and Peter leads me to a large wood door, the mahogany wood stripping off of it.

As Peter twists the door knob I shuffle my feet nervously, not really knowing what to expect. The door opens, Peter’s large body fitting through the doorway just so. I take a deep breath and follow behind, being met with many different pairs of eyes and glances.

Nobody stopped their conversations, just continued to glance in my direction and stare me down. I already felt small and no one’s even spoke to me yet.

I was always so damn worried about what others thought about me. I even looked like I didn’t belong here. Everyone was dressed in jeans, wild prints, and silk and velvet. Here I am dressed as one of my dolls my mother gifted to me years ago.

My anxiety and lack of rebellion in my childhood and teen years has made me a “priss” or a “prude” as my ex-boyfriend would call me. Jack. He told me I didn’t know how to enjoy life. He left several months ago and took my confidence with him.

My useless thoughts of Jack are interrupted by Peter’s loud tone. He was kind of a scary fellow.

“Boys and girls. Take a moment to greet the new help. This is Cynthia, she’ll be along for the next few days to, how’d you say Cynthia? To… get to know the band?” Peter raises his eyebrows at me as he teases my wording of how I was approaching my interview with the band. This makes the individuals in the room chuckle, other than one man who sat quietly in the corner with a couple of girls.

His hair a dark shock on his head, curls falling to his shoulders, slightly peeled away from his forehead and eyes. The morning sunshine shone into the pane of the window and shined right onto him, almost casting a ray across his entire body. He looked angelic and it took me a moment to realize he was staring at me too. His face told me nothing, no sense of emotion, but his eyes of an emerald green burned into mine. He looked me up and down. Suddenly, my insecurities rose.

I looked away quickly, realizing he probably is thinking of how much of a dork I am, staring at him while he’s clearly pre-occupied and uninterested in what Peter had just announced. He is the only who did not come up to approach me. He continued being sat on the floral print couch he was sitting on, both of the beautiful women on his right and left side keeping him more than enough company.

“Hello, love. Robert’s the name. Where are you from?” A man with gorgeous blonde locks approaches with his hand curling around my small forearm. I look up at him through my bangs and return a smile to him.

“Oh, I’m from here. New York. Manhattan. I live a few miles from here, actually.” I offer way too much information to him and he seems confused but gives a laugh and shakes his head.

“No love, I mean from what magazine do you come from?” He corrects himself, or rather corrected me, and I blush a deep scarlet red before offering another response.

“Oh! Foxy. It has the purple outlined cover, yellow writing.” Why am I being so weird? What am I saying all this for?

“Ah, yes! That magazine has spoken nicely of us, has it not Pagey?” The man that I had been having a staring competition with just moments earlier arose from his perched position on the flowery loveseat. The two ladies surrounding him protested, but he continued to come toward Robert and I.

“If they had, it wasn’t noteworthy. Haven’t really heard of the magazine. Is it new?” Oh. He asks his question, looking directly at Robert, instead of me, the person who fucking works for the damn magazine. I couldn’t remember his name from our past issues of them for the life of me, but would love to solve the mystery.

“No, it is not new. It has been publishing stories for around five years now. And yes, we have covered your band before. But not since I have been working there. And you are?” I half asked, looking between both of them. My voice made him turn his head toward me and I finally was able to get an up-close-and-personal look at him. My God, he was beautiful. His touseled curly hair shining in the sun that was still unapologetically beaming in the windows. His shirt was a shade of beige, psychedelic patterned fabric clinging to his lean upper body. He was wearing blue jeans on his mile-long legs and black patent leather boots. He was tall and really magnificent looking. But not so friendly, I presume.

Robert chuckled. “Jimmy.” The man stated with a monotone, but soft voice. His accent was swift and light. He lifted his hand up and I shook it. When our hands met, we shocked each other. We pulled away fastly and I looked up at him one last time, slightly open-mouthed from the shock and he opened his mouth to say something else, but Robert interrupted.

“When did you start? New writer, yes?” Robert asked as he walked backwards, motioning me to come have a seat on a loveseat, similar to the one ‘Pagey’ had been sitting on.

I gave the curly, ebony-haired man one last look and he looked down at me and I noticed his gorgeous dark green eyes once again. They were entrancing, but the man seemed as if he couldn’t give me the time of day. I left the half circle we formed and sat down next to Robert.

“I’m not new. I studied Journalism in college, got my degree, and started writing for Foxy a couple of years ago.” I tell him and he nods while blowing smoke out of the side of his mouth, politely not into my face.

I notice out of the corner of my eye that Jimmy has sat back down on the loveseat across the room, but the girls had wandered off somewhere else. Probably to their next band member. He was plucking at his fingernails and looking at Robert and I, as if we should have included him in our continued conversation.

We continued to talk until Peter interrupted us to meet the rest of the band. John and John, but the more bulky man preferred to be called “Bonzo”, and were both friendly and warm. Bonzo was a laughing machine, Robert secretly whispering about his breakfast of champions- three screwdrivers and a shot of whiskey.

Rockstars and their lifestyles fascinated me, but never really appealed to me. I lived a quiet life full of pure and undiluted actions. I stayed in school, tried to keep a steady boyfriend, talk to my parents every day, and focus on myself and my career. But I always wondered what it would be like to live on the wild side like these guys. How do they do it? Drinking at ten in the morning? Smoking a pack of cigarettes before nightfall? They were truly creatures of another planet, the lot of them, and I was enthralled. Ready to take it all in.

We were leaving shortly to go to rehearsal at Madison Square Garden and I was ecstatic. I had never been to the Garden before and it was one of biggest concert arenas in America. I was supposed to get my interviews starting today at this- recording studio- I found out from one of the roadies gathering musical equipment up and down the stairs. But, Peter said to let the boys and everyone relax a bit and interview them during rehearsal.

I floated through the room mingling and decided to distance myself a bit to look out onto the streets of Manhattan. The building wasn’t very high off the ground from the second story, but there was a still a great view and the sun was blasting in the windows like fire. I welcomed its heat.

Suddenly, I felt a hand brush my open back that my dress revealed and looked behind me to see Jimmy maneuvering his way to the side of me, his hand falling back to his side. I looked away nervously and continued looking out at the people and cars moving below.

I could feel his presence next to me.

“Do you really enjoy this?” He asked me suddenly, taking a swig of his orange juice. It sort of shocked me that everyone was drinking and here he was drinking a fruity beverage instead of a glass of whiskey or cocktail like everyone else.

“Enjoy what? Looking outside?” I pondered. He laughs. Stupid, stupid Cynthia.

“No, this. Speaking with bands and such. You fancy it, really?” He asks, genuinely. His eyes bore into mine and it suddenly became really hard to not get lost in them.

I shake myself. “I do, yeah. It’s fun to get to know different people in the industry, including the ones making the music like yourself.”

“Hm.” He nodded and took another sip of his juice. I looked away awkwardly, not knowing if I should say something else.

“You just don’t look the part is all.” He added quickly and my head whipped toward him. Excuse me?

“What?” I replied, already winding my right fist up inside of my head, picturing myself giving him a good sock to his handsome face.

“Not the usual look your crowd has. You are dressed like you are expected home by mummy at five for dinner and tea. Maybe even a play date.” He chuckles to himself as he looks me up and down, stopping at my babydoll heels and back up my stocking-clad legs, to my clothed chest, and to my eyes, his eyes dancing around my face. I silently curse myself for wearing such a “cutesy” outfit today. I should’ve just gone with jeans and a t-shirt. God, at least I put a bit of effort into my hair and makeup today. Or he’d probably make fun of that too.

I narrowed my eyes at him. Just as I opened my mouth to retort, his mouth shoots off once again.

“Does your boyfriend request of you to dress this way?” He asks quizzically.

“Boyfriend?” I ask him. Why does he think I have a boyfriend?

“The fellow you said goodbye to downstairs on the pavement.” I now realize Jimmy is one of the men who was peering down at Roger and I from one of the balconies.

“He’s a good friend.” I stare back at Jimmy as he is doing to me, as if he is studying me.

He nods and smirks. “Only a friend? Not the way he was gaping at you. All in his ‘Sunday’s Best’ outfit.” He laughs again at his own rude remark and I snarl back at him.

“‘Sunday’s Best?’ What is that supposed to mean?” I reply.

He chuckles and explains. “You know, he had the carefully knitted sweater and dainty little office shoes on. Both of you look as if you were on your way to attend a Sunday sermon.” His eyes are squinty as he giggles at his own joke. The thing that pisses me off the most is that he is adorable. But, his insults are uncalled for and I am tempted to just walk away without replying to him. I turn on my heels to storm away but he grabs my wrist and pulls me back around. Before I can move, he snaps back again, this time coming closer to me, his face getting dangerously close to mine.

He whispers into my ear, “really, the only thing saving this outfit choice of yours is your beautiful little back on display for me. I can’t seem to stop admiring it.”

He pulls back, his scent intoxicating me, his words making me weak at the knees. What the hell is wrong with me? Wait, what the hell is wrong with him? I just met him and all he does is insult me and then gives me a backhanded compliment? Did he say “for me”? Oh my…

I guess the rumors I’ve heard about Jimmy Page are true.

My thoughts are interrupted by Jimmy abruptly walking away from me to go and greet a couple more people who arrived.

I am left in front of the window to stare down at the movement below.

What is happening?

My thoughts busy me as I think about Jimmy’s cool, orangey-mint breath in my ear and how his words seemed to melt me. How could someone be so rude but so attractive at the same time?

“Cynthia, are you okay with interviewing each member one by one and then as a group? We just don’t have time today for a full interview session. So can you interview the band as they are available today and across the next few days?” Richard, the band’s tour manager- whom I just met moments before- talks fast and breaks me of my train of thought and my glum stare out of the large picture window.

“Yes, that is fine. Should I catch the subway now to the arena?” I ask him. He laughs and shakes his head.

“No, darling. You can ride with us. The cars are out back. I’ll lead you to them.”

As I walk out of the room, I notice only a few people are left standing around. Peter, a couple of the roadies, a couple ladies whom I never got their names, and Robert, John, Bonzo, and of course, Jimmy.

“You are heading there with us, yes Cynny?” Robert asks loudly, his British accent echoing through the almost empty room. I’m not sure if I like this new nickname he had come up with for me an hour before, but I allow it. It seems that Robert has a nickname for everybody.

I nod and smile at him. “See you there.” I say back. He nods and continues his conversation with Bonzo and John. I give everyone a glance, trying to avoid Jimmy’s constant gaze and continue to follow the entourage of people heading down the stairs and to the back door.

There were four big, shiny Cadillacs outside. Their engines were all warming up, the smell littering the air.

Richard advised to me which car to get in and I follow his instruction. I pull my dress down over my knees and neatly place my book and writing needs on top of my lap, saving room for any of the crew that may have to ride with me.

I am alone in the car for what feels like forever, but only a couple of minutes. Suddenly the left back door swings open and to my dismay, Jimmy climbs in next to me. I was hoping there’d be another individual behind him, preferably Robert or someone with a better disposition than Jimmy, to save me from his wrath. But my hopes were to no avail. The door closes behind Jimmy and he gives me a smug grin showing off his pearly-whites before grabbing for a bottle of booze thrown lackadaisically on the car floor. Richard soon gets behind the wheel and takes off like a bat out of hell. I am left gripping the inside of the car door with a gasp and with Jimmy’s stare burning a hole in the side of my head.

He stares at me in amusement at my dislike for Richard’s speed and swerving.

“You don’t get out much, do you Miss Cynthia?” Jimmy pesters me and I ignore him.

“Care for a drink?” He speaks again not but two seconds after his first insult of the car ride, pushing the bottle towards me, and I simply shake my head.

“My God Richard, what have you done. The girl’s gone mute!” Jimmy exclaims with a dramatic hand to his chest, dramatizing his British accent and laughs.

Richard shakes his head staring at Jimmy through the rear view mirror.

“Lay off, Page. She has a job to do.” He states to Jimmy firmly and I silently thank him with my eyes. Jimmy puts his hands up in surrender and takes another swig of the Jack Daniel’s bottle he’s holding loosely in his right hand.

The car ride is silent with Jimmy glancing over at me now and again, my cheeks becoming permanently scarlet red, and Richard driving crazily through the busy roads.

Soon, we stop for gas because, according to Richard, the big “ape” of a man Peter is, did not fill up the Cadillac he is driving. Richard gets out of the car with a huff at the gas pump and heads inside to pay.

I am left alone with Jimmy and my cheeks are even redder than before, half because of anticipation of Jimmy’s remarks, and half because, God, I don’t know. My body temperature is rising by the second and I feel Jimmy come closer to me from across the large backseat of the luxury vehicle.

“Cynthia?” He ponders. I ignore him.

“Cynthia…” He continues. Again, I ignore him. What insult will he throw this time? His hand creeps across the remaining room between us and he slips it lightly onto my thigh. I did not notice that my dress had ridden up during the roughest car ride of my life. I shake his hand off of me and abruptly pull my dress hem down.

“Cynthia, why ignore me? You know you want to talk to me.” He states confidently and I scoff. Enough is enough.

“Want to talk to you? Oh, please!” I exclaim. “You haven’t had one nice thing to say since I have arrived. Didn’t your mother ever teach you to say nothing if you have nothing NICE to say? I am not your personal entertainment, so just knock it off! We’ll do an interview, and then I will stay out of your way and you can stay out of mine!” I growl at him. He seems taken aback but quickly recovers.

“Who said you are my entertainment? I have plenty of that without your being here.” He retorts and I snort a laugh.

“Yes, those two girls on your lap looked like loads of fun.” I say back, feeling confident, and instantly regret it.

Jimmy comes back with the worst insult of the day. “Oh, they can be. Trust it. They also don’t come around boasting a clipboard with silly little questions on it like one of the birds present for today’s activities.” He snaps at me and my eyes burn with a tinge of embarrassment and hurt. Don’t cry, Cynthia. Don’t cry.

Richard’s door finally opens and he mumbles a bunch of expletives about the gas station staff’s incompetence. He pops back outside to get the pump into the car to start fueling.

Jimmy glances over at me, at Richard outside, and back at me again. I am not ready for another one of his jibes, but I don’t have the energy to fight with him any longer. I brace myself for whatever remark he will spit at me next. He is obviously another angry, tired rocker and I have experience with those. Not really with any that have attacked my appearance like he has, but I have dealt with rockstars who have bad dispositions, overly aggressive personalities, and just overtired musicians who are overworked and don’t get to see their families as much as they would like to or should.

I remember that my job is on the line. “This is our big one….” Paul’s voice echoes in my ear.

Silence and Jimmy’s picking of his nails and shirt buttons fill the air and soon we are on the road again.

We arrive to the venue shortly after, without anymore of Jimmy’s nasty remarks or Richard’s complaints of drivers on the road. Richard parks and instructs us to follow him and I am more than happy to finally get out of the car and away from Jimmy. I hope he will be the last I interview.

“I am sorry.” Jimmy suddenly blurts out before my two feet hit the pavement outside of the car and it rips me out of my train of thought.

I whip my head toward him, but he is already hurrying out of his side of the car. I watch him fast walk to the boys and I sigh. I haven’t even known him a few hours and he is already exhausting me. I hope the rest of the band is decent enough to just give me what I need so I can be on my way.

Only a few more days, Cynthia.

—

A/N

Well, there is chapter one! Chapter two will be posted soon! Please show your support and comment! I’d love to know all of your thoughts! ❤️

[b3mm3tt]

Intro Post

tried my best with this

my name is Bennett, I’m a minor, I love reds, purples, and greens, (especially purple), I go by any pronouns and any gender (literally I’m fine with absolutely anything as long as you don’t mean it in a harmful, offensive or negative way or manner)

I’m a devotee to Lord Dionysus and Lord Apollo/Apollon and I also worship Lord Hermes, Lady Hestia, and Lord Poseidon

I have just gotten back into being a helpol and worshiping Greek gods due to an unsafe environment I was more then fortunate to get out of so I have to get things to start my alters again

I’ll post random rants about the things I do with the gods and what happens with the gods, my progress on getting my alters again, and some thoughts I have about Hellenistic stuff and being a helpol again

I listen to a bunch of different music and artists like Tyler the Creator, The Beatles, Nirvana, AC/DC, A$AP Rocky, and more but Billy Joel has a special place in my heart

I enjoy hockey and my favourite teams are Montreal Canadiens and New Jersey Devils, and I also enjoy the Vancouver Canucks (mainly for Quinn Hughes and Brock Boser) and I grew up with the Calgary Flames and loved Jacob Markstrom so I moved over from Calgary and Vancouver to New Jersey for him

I have diagnosed adhd and anxiety

Some fandoms I’m in are marauders, Harry Potter, and Percy Jackson/Heroes of Olympus (I hate the way they did the gods especially gods like Hera but it’s gotten my attention and interest)

If you want to know more about me then ask, I’m more then happy to answer (as long as it’s not too personal and weird like where I live)