#then having the best time screaming my lungs off while seeing macca

[thomats]

Does anyone else love attending concerts by themselves?

Or am i weird?

[mclennunf]

This Boy - Chapter 20

~John’s~

The feeling of being on stage in Hamburg with George, Stu, Ritchie and of course, Paul, was one of the best feelings in the entire world. It was like being high, we fed off each other’s energy as well as the crowd’s.

Earlier in the day, George had told me that one of the prozzies was talking to him about queer marriage and the fact that it was legal in Paris. I couldn’t get it off my mind.

This particular night was more successful than most. The Star Club was packed tight, and there were even people lined up out the door. But even better than that, all of us were in an amazing mind set. The music sounded great, and we all felt great. Stu was on my microphone with me, and Paul and George were sharing a microphone. Ritchie was up on his drum kit looking as happy as ever.

I looked over at Paul to find he was already looking at me. He had a huge smile on his face and his pupils were huge! I was so happy to see he was having such a good time. I winked at him and got back to pleasing the crowd.  

By the time the end of our set rolled around, we did our bow and exited the stage to the dressing room. “Bloody best show we’ve had yet, that was!” I said as I patted Stu on the back, who nodded in agreement. Paul and George were already getting ready to leave, but I wanted to stay for a drink. “Headin’ out then, Paul? Geo?” I asked. Paul turned around with a raised eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m not feeling too good. Are you not comin’ with?” He asked. “John, Ritchie and I are going to stay and have a drink. John will come home to wifey a little later after hanging out with the big boys, right Lennon?!” Stu answered for me as he jabbed me in the arm. “Yes, love. I’ll be up to the hotel soon, just gonna have a pint with Stu and Ritchie.” I told Paul as George walked by me, Paul not far behind. As Paul went to walk by, I grabbed his arm. “Are you okay, m'love?” I asked quietly. Paul nodded, and I noticed his pupils were now extremely tiny, almost unseen.

“I love you.” I said even quieter in his ear in order for Ritchie not to hear. “Don’t forget to take your meds, John.” Paul said a little louder and walked away. That threw me off. He knew I took my medication in the morning in order for the alcohol I drank at night not to conflict with it. “What’s got his knickers in a twist?” Stu asked loudly. Paul spun around and dropped his guitar case down, coming back down toward Stu. “Paul,” I tried to grab him but he flung his arm away and shot me a death stare. My eyes widened, I’d never seen Paul like that before. Paul grabbed Stu by the collar and held him up, his feet dangling, against the dirty brick wall. “Fuck off, McCartney!” Stu yelled, as he tried to squirm out of Paul’s surprisingly strong hold.

I ran up behind Paul and grabbed his shoulders. “Paul! Put him down!” I tried to sound as nice as possible, still while having Paul know I was serious. Let them fight. They’re fighting over you. I stumbled back away from my boyfriend and best friend as I heard the words in my head. I hadn’t for so long that I was in shock by it. I shook my head a few times to bring myself back down to earth when I saw Paul putting Stu down. “Oh thank god.” I mumbled as I walked back over to them. Ritchie shook his head. “I’m going to get a fuckin’ drink before this gets too ridiculous.” He said as he walked out of the dressing room and back out into the club.  "Hell McCartney, didn’t pin you as the violent type. More as the damsel in distress.“ Stu chuckled. Paul’s face was beat red. "I will fucking kill you, Stuart.” Paul snarled. “Paul! Don’t fuckin’ say shit like that, c'mon I’ll take ye back to the hotel…” I said as I tried to pull Paul away from Stu. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem like Paul could peel his eyes away from him.

“Y'know what, John? Leave him. He won’t do anything, anyway.” Stu told me, with a smirk on his face. Paul lunged at him, and pushed him to the ground. Paul climbed on top of him and hit Stu in the face twice before Stu over powered and rolled Paul on to his back. “BLOODY HELL!” I yelled as I tried to pull Stu off of Paul. I knew Paul didn’t like physical violence, for obvious reasons, but having Stu on top of him, hitting him repeatedly in the face must have hurt more than his face. “STU! GET THE FUCK OFF ‘IM!” I screamed as I yanked at Stu’s shoulders. “Fuck OFF Lennon!” Stu screamed as his elbow came flying into my nose. “Fuck!” I yelped in pain as I felt blood trickle out of my nose and down my face. Paul had stopped trying to fight back, his body fell limp and his eyes were closed. His face was covered with blood. I was frozen. I had never thought I’d see Paul like that again. It made images of him lying unconscious in that hospital bed flash through my mind. “Stu! You’re gonna kill him!” I heard George yell from behind me as he ran back into the dressing room and yanked Stu off of Paul. “What the hell John?!” George looked at me with panic and anger in his eyes. Stu sat back against the wall trying to catch his breath, George holding him there.

I knelt down to Paul and lifted his head up onto my lap. “Paul?” I said, trying to wake him up.  His eyes fluttered open and he looked at me, looked over at Stu and back at me. He shoved me as he tried to stand up on his own. I jumped to my feet and held his arm as he stood up. “Fuck off, John.” He said, blood pouring out the side of his mouth. I looked at George for help. “Take him to your room. I’ll take care of this one.. Ritchie will get your guitars.” George told me, sounding extremely annoyed. Paul walked out the back door, and I was close beside him, trying to give him some help. “I don’t want your help.” Paul said before spitting a large amount of blood on the ground. “Do you want a cigarette, then?” I asked, trying not to push his limits.

Fuckin’ leave him.

Had I forgotten to take my medication this morning?

“Yes please.” Paul said. “Huh?” I had zoned out. “Fuckin’ cigarette, Lennon.” Paul said as he stopped, putting his hand out - waiting for a smoke. I put two in my mouth and lit them for us, handing one to him. I wanted to talk to him about the voices, but I couldn’t make this about me. “Are you gonna tell me what all that was about, then?” I asked as we approached the hotel. “John, let me have my smoke, a shower, and then maybe we can talk about it. Okay?” He said, his voice sounding closer to it’s normal softness. I nodded and opened the door to the lobby. He let a small smile out the side of his mouth. “Always such a gentleman.” He whispered as he walked by me and through the door. I hated myself at that moment, I had stood idly by as my best friend beat the living hell out of my boyfriend.

When we got into the hotel room, I didn’t try to push anymore out of Paul. He went into the bathroom and I heard the shower turn on. I lied down on our bed and felt sorry for Paul for having to deal with a horrible boyfriend such as myself. I shouldn’t have froze up the way that I had. I should’ve kicked Stu’s ass. I decided I would change into comfier clothes, so I stood up and went over to my suitcase. I opened it up and began to rummage through it, and it wasn’t until I stumbled across Paul’s journal that I realized I was rummaging through the wrong suitcase. I held the journal in my hands, staring at it for a few moments.  The shower was still on, so I could get away with reading it. As guilty as it made me feel reading his journal, I wanted to know what was going on with him.

I flipped to the most recent entry. The page on the left was a song he had been working on. But, the page on the right…

I have a feeling John is screwing Stuart.

If not screwing, he’s in love with him.

What I’m saying is I don’t think John and I are going to last with Stuart around..

My heart is hurting.

I heard the shower turn off and I threw his journal back under some clothing and closed the suitcase, immediately feeling guilty for invading his privacy, but even more so because I had made him feel like I was cheating on him. Was I that bad of a boyfriend? Paul walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He sat down on the bed and lit a cigarette, staring at the floor. I crawled on the bed behind him on my hands and knees and began kissing his shoulder and neck. “Are you okay?” I mumbled against his warm, still damp skin. He shook his head. “Look at me, Macca.” I said, now sitting with my legs crossed. He turned around and looked at me, tears brimming in his eyes.

“What’s going on with you m'love?” I asked as I kissed his nose. He shook his head again. I touched his cheek and examined the damage on his face. “I’m losing you.” Paul managed to mumble, sounding like the small fragile little boy I met in high school. I tried to pull him into my arms, but he stood up instead. “I need to be mad at you, John. I need to be upset. You can’t just work your John Lennon magic and make everything disappear.” Paul said as he pulled a pair of pyjama pants on and one of my shirts, which hung off of him making it obvious how skinny he had been. I nodded and nervously picked at my finger nails.

“You can yell at me, if you want.” I told him. He began pacing back and forth. “Just let me get this shit off me chest, John…” Paul said as he puffed angrily on his cigarette.

“I hate the way you look at Stu, John - I fucking hate it. I hate the way Stu goes out of his way to make sure I’m jealous, and the fuckin’ worst part about that is you’re too fuckin’ wrapped up in whatever the fuck Stuart is doing to even realize your boyfriend is upset! Fuckin’ FUCK!” Paul blurted out almost all at once, already lighting a second cigarette. I didn’t speak, I just looked at him with shame in my eyes. “I’m not fuckin’ happy John, not with him here. But I can’t very well tell you to get rid of him, because he’s yer best fuckin’ friend. It’d be like you telling me to get rid of Geo.” He said as he sat down on the chair across the room. “I just hate it all. If you love Stuart, you’ll tell me now so that I can bloody go home and get away from you.” Paul said, choking up as he said the last few words.

I shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “Paul, can I talk now?” I asked, hesitantly. He nodded as he wiped a tear off his cheek. “I don’t love Stu. Not the way I love you. But you’re right, he is me best mate and I don’t want to send him away after it took all kinds of convincing to get him to come in the first place.” I explained as I walked over to Paul, kneeling down between his legs and resting my hands on his thighs. “I had no idea you felt this way, and I’m sorry I let it come to this.” I apologized quietly and kissed his knee. He wouldn’t look at me, instead he focused on his cigarette and looked over toward the window, still with tears rolling silently down his cheeks. “I can’t believe I let this happen to you again..” I whispered as I stood up and kissed his cuts and bruises.

“I’ll be fine, John.” Paul said blandly as he put out his cigarette. I decided to take charge. I stood up and scooped Paul up into my arms bridal style. “What the hell John?” He said, trying to sound like he still wanted to fight but I felt him sink into me. I sat him down on the bed so he was leaning against the head board. He was finally smiling. “Give me your ring.” I said, trying to sound stern. His smile faded, “What?! Why?” Paul sounded panicked as he took it off and handed it to me. “Are you going to be with Stuart?” Paul’s voice cracked as he asked the daft question, swinging his legs off the bed and standing up in front of me. “No, Paul.” I said softly. “Then what?!” He was getting mad again.

“George told me this morning that he was with a prozzie last night, and they got to talkin’. Told him she’s got a queer brother who just went to Paris t'get married, guess it’s legal there n'all.” I said in a very sweet voice as I knelt down on one knee in front of Paul.

“Paul McCartney, we’ve been on one hell of a bloody rollercoaster ride together but we always come back, the two of us. You’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could be, and I want to do the same for you for the rest of me life… Would you come to Paris with me? Y'know, so we could get married?” I held the same old ring out that I had given him back in Liverpool.

My heart was beating faster than it ever had before. Here I was, 22 years old, asking my 20 year old boyfriend to marry me.

“Oh my god, John, fuckin’ hell, of course I will!” Paul’s face lit up with glee. I slid the ring on his finger and stood up, smiling. “I’m so surprised I could bloody cry, John Lennon!” He hugged me, I could feel his heart thumping in sync against mine. “I love you so much.” I said, before embracing him into a passionate kiss.

“I love you, John. You’re not going to let go of me, are ye?” Paul smiled smugly against my mouth. I placed another gentle kiss on his lips. “Never, m'love.” I smiled against his lips.