What If

Chapter 11

Buddy Holly, Elvis, and The Everly Brothers were only some of the bands I watched them play. Pete was in the back on drums, Stu was kind of pushed in the corner with his back turned towards the audience, Paul was on one side in front, George was on the other, and John was in the middle.

People were bouncing around, dancing to the music, or just sitting in their chairs and watching. They were so good that I couldn't help but stare. I was right in front, practically drooling over the entire experience. My brain was totally dead from overstimulation, not taking in a single thing around me except for what was going on on top of that stage.

About three songs in, I finally came back to reality and paid attention to the actual band and the actual songs. I didn't dance. I felt too awkward being alone. Paul caught my eyes and winked at me while he sang. I blushed and looked at the floor and then turned to the other side of the stage. I wasn't going to let him get to me.

George was focused on his playing, but at one point he did look up and smile at me.

John's eyes were glued to me. He was smirking and singing and staring. I think I scowled at him without realizing it, but if I did, it didn't deter him. Out of all of them, his intentions were the least hidden. It was totally obvious that he wanted me in bed. He wasn't attempting to hide anything at all.

I wasn't focusing on any of that though. I was too stunned to move. I must've looked so weird being the only one to be standing perfectly still, but I didn't care. I was watching a Beatles concert years before they ever made it big. I couldn't focus on anything else.

"Thank you all! Good night!" yelled John into the microphone. They all unwrapped their guitars from their shoulders and walked off backstage.

Shaking my brain back to reality, I was not going to miss seeing The Beatles backstage. Not while they were still unknown enough to even get to. I quickly weaved my way in between people, almost knocking over a dancing couple in the process.

I finally saw the entranceway leading to backstage and sighed happily to see it, but before I could strut through, a big hand landed on my shoulder from behind. "Hey!" said this deep voice. "You can't go back there! That's for bands only!"

Looking behind me, he was a huge bald man, probably a bouncer or something, wearing a black shirt with the word SECURITY on the back.

"I'm with the band," I said.

He rolled his eyes and said "There's always a drunk teenage girl who wants to meet the band members. Let's just move along before there's a problem."

"I do not–!"

"Hey!" I saw John pop out from the entrance. "She's with us. Let her back here!"

The security guard dropped my shoulder with a scowl on his face.

John, happier than could be, wrapped his arm around me and lead into the hot, sweaty, smoke-filled room. I looked at John's hand on me and sneered at it. I came back here to see The Beatles backstage. Not to be touched by them. I took a deep breath and let it go. It wasn't worth the fight.

"You like the concert?" he asked cockily.

A fake smile spread across my face. "Loved it." At least I was telling the truth.

The boys were putting their instruments away and smoking and talking. Paul noticed me right away and came at me with a huge smile on his face. "Colleen!" he said, eyeing John's hold on me for a second. "How'd you like the concert?"

I grinned, pretending to be more into him than I really was. "I thought it was great!" Honestly, I just wanted John to get off of me. I didn't care if it was leading Paul on. He's done far worse, even by the time he was this age. But John was far worse than Paul, so if I had to choose one, it would definitely be Paul.

John, catching on, dropped his arm with a sour look and went over to Stu.

Paul's expression lifted when John walked away from us. "So do you wanna hang out for a little while?" he asked. "There's gonna be more bands." He took a long drag from the cigarette in his hand.

"I would love to, but I've got homework."

Paul waved the thought away and blew out a huge puff of smoke. "Pfft, blow it off. It's a weekend. It's not important anyway."

I smiled. I wish school had just as little meaning in the future like it does now. "Nah, I like to get it done and out of the way. I'm a nerd, remember?"

Paul seemed a little disappointed, but he retained his smile. "Alright, then I better take you home. Let me just get my guitar."

After saying goodbye to the boys, Paul and I exited the Casbah Club and began our journey home.

The air was freezing and it was seriously dark out. Liverpool was known for its gangs and crime, so I was glad I wasn't alone, especially since I wasn't familiar with the area.

I crossed my arms, trying to keep warm. The cold itself I didn't mind too much, but the wind made it ten times worse.

"Would you like my coat?" Paul asked, noticing how chilly I was.

I shook my head. "No, that's alright. I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Alright." He lit up another cigarette and blew smoke into the night air. He was quiet for a second and then picked up conversation once again. "I'm really glad you liked the concert."

I faked a smile again. "Of course," I said.

"Which song did you like the best?"

Thinking back to it I decided. "Peggy Sue. That's always a classic."

"Yeah? That's a good one. You have good taste in music."

"Thank you. You guys do too. It must be really hard to memorize all of those songs."

"Not really. You just need to practice over and over. Don't you do that with your violin?"

"No. I just read the music. I don't need to memorize them if they're just written down."

"Ah, you can read music. I can't. None of the boys can. We pick everything up from memory."

We came upon my door a little while later and now came the part I hated the most: the awkward goodbyes. We stood in front of the doorway, facing each other.

"I glad you came tonight," Paul said.

He smiled at me sweetly and looked at my face. Not my body, my face. I blushed and looked at the ground, not wanting to meet his eyes.

"You have the most beautiful eyes," he said softly. "They're the most beautiful shade of blue."

I blushed even harder. "Thanks."

"Listen, I would really love to take you out sometime. We could go to a picture or get some dinner or just hang out. It'd be really fun."

And there it was. The moment I was dreading. Paul, look-wise, was absolutely datable. But there's no way in hell I would ever date him. Not in a million years.

Paul, in this year, would be turning 18 in a few months. When he was sixteen, two years before this, he was dating Dot Rhone. He constantly cheated on her with strippers and prostitutes. She stayed with him for some crazy reason. Then, guess what, she found out she was pregnant. That's why the two of them became engaged in the first place. Unfortunately, she miscarried, so without reason to marry her anymore, Paul broke off the engagement and tossed her aside like another used doll.

First, he pretends to like a girl and starts dating them, which includes having sex. Then he cheats about a million times because he knows he's too good-looking to be dumped. Then he knocks her up and asks her to marry him. Then, when she miscarries, which is probably the worst emotional pain she's ever been in her entire life, instead of being there for her and supporting her, he throws her aside, pretending the incident never happened.

I was not going to let that happen to me.

"You know what, Paul. I don't think so." And I closed the door in his face.