Ringo's POV
I was hungry, again, so we set up the food on the table and we ate, laughing and talking, just enjoying the lovely day. It had been a while since we had hung out like that, outside, without screaming fans, where we didn't have to hide. We played silly games, like tag and hide and seek until we got bored and we all sat under the apple tree. George tried climbing it and he came back down with a few red apples, one for each; John went for a hike; I sighed and stared at the sky, playing with small bits of grass that I kept tearing out of the ground; Maya and Paul were talking softly next to me, I wasn't as in love with Maya as all the lads were so I didn't really care, I knew deep down she wouldn't pick me anyways. Maya was teaching Paul how to speak French, but his Liverpool accent made everything he said sound silly, and he only new how to say '' ma belle'' but he pronounced it mah bellh.
'' Say hello to me in French.'' said Maya
'' Bohnjurrr.'' said Paul
'' Go easy on the 'r' Paul'' said Maya, while she laughed. I believe George was grumbling to himself sulkily but I didn't pay attention to him, I watched as Maya kept teaching Paul.
'' Khommant alle vuos?'' tried Paul, clumsily, which made Maya laugh. He then approached Maya's ear and I heard him whisper '' Je vuos eme.'' I saw her blush, and then John came bursting out of the bushes.
'' I found something.'' he said, smiling, that couldn't be too good. He sat in front of Paul and Maya, clearly interrupting them, while he placed on the grass a few mushrooms, their small heads lightly brown and their stems really really thin, I recognized them instantly, Psilocybin. I had had a hippy stoner friend that used to take those all the time. He said he wanted to reach ''nirvana'' but you never really knew if he was stoned or he was clean, he was a very unusual person, I knew enough to keep away from those. George got up and was peering at the mushrooms over John's shoulder, laughing.
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Maya's POV
Psilocybin, psychedelic mushroom, I knew those mushrooms alright. As a former hippie, I had experienced them. They were simply wonderful, everything was unreal. The world was as colorful as it would get, everything was happy, nothing wrong seemed to happen in your life. I saw George look at the mushrooms with an excited smile on his face, Ringo was looking worriedly at the mushrooms, Paul's face was grim, his fist clenched tight on his lap, he was really mad, John was touching the stems, almost caressing them as if they were babies.
'' Say we give it a go, love?'' said John, looking up at me. I felt Paul tense at my side, and it surprised me how close he was to me. I hesitated for a second, I felt Paul shake his head at my side, mouthing no. I didn't want to listen to him, I just didn't, fuck him, have fun with John. I placed my hand under John's and he slipped me a mushroom, while he took one in his own.
'' To peace.'' he said, grinning and bringing it up to his mouth. '' To life.'' I said, bringing mine up to my mouth. '' And to love.'' said George, taking one and making eye contact. We chewed and swallowed. I felt Paul shake his head and clench his fist even tighter, until his nails dug into his skin and his knuckles turned white. It would take about thirty minutes for the effects to kick in, so I pressed my back against the trunk of the apple tree and sighed, sitting far from Paul. Ringo was immediatly at my side, watching me, a crazed look on his face. '' Do you know what those do?'' he muttered nervously. I nodded and his face turned less worried, as I had done it before it wouldn't be so bad. '' You shouldn't have.'' he said. I didn't answer, and I didn't meet his eyes. '' Fool,'' he muttered under his breath.
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Paul's POV
I had clenched my fist so tight, my nails had ripped some of the skin of my palm and I was bleeding, I muttered a curse and unclenched it, flexing it and wiping the blood on the grass. I was mad at John, and at George, mostly at John, why the hell can't he act normal for once in his bloody life? He's a fool Paul. He doesn't deserve Maya. No, I don't think he does. But, do you? I don't know... I want to. Prove it to her. How? You know how. It's simple. She's about to go on a trip, take care of her. Hmmm...
(( I think it should be announced that I enjoy writing drugged/drunk scenes not because i'm a druggie or a drunk ( which i'm not) because they're a nice excuse for colorful description and always get followed by some kind of epiphany or spirit enlightenment.))
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