This Boy

8. As I Stared

   As I stare at the eyes of Paul McCartney, I can't help but realize that I am going mad. All those kissing and adoration makes no sense. But then again, it does. Sometimes, it makes perfect sense. Why do I have to be such a confused pillock? Lord, I'm a loser.

  "John!" Paul called out as the sounds of the instruments cut off.

  I shook my head and looked up to find all the guys of the Quarry Men looking, puzzled, at me.

  "Keep up with the pulse, will you?" Eric said, tapping his guitar, angrily.

  "Oh, alright!" I shouted. "Keep your clothes on- it's my band!"

  "Ah! Fish off, Lennon!" Rod Davis shouted, roughly placing his banjo on the floor and standing up. "Don't you see- we fuckin' hate it when you talk all vein! Stop bein' such a big 'eaded swine!"

  "Well, if I burn you so much," I stomped the wooden floor as the rest shook up. "Get the fuck out of my house!"

  "Oh, I will, you know!" 

  "Well, what ye waitin' for then, prick? Door's right there!"

  "I know! You're the one that's blind! Think birds will just fly to you if you don't put your glasses on? And even if you do put them on, John, don't get excited- you don't look like Buddy Holly! You look like a fuckin' perve!"

  "You shut the fuck up, Roderick!" I yelled. "I'll kick you out of the group!"

  "Go on- you'll never get one as good as me! I never liked being in this band anyway- it's shit cos you're in it! You're kicking the wrong person out. You should be out, John Lennon! YOU!" and he marched out the door, leaving it open on his way out. 

  "Well, close the door on your way out, at least! For fuck's sake!" I exclaimed and slammed the door shut. Then I paused. I couldn't face the rest of the lads just having to stare at me like that... I opened the door again, "Get the fuck out!"

  "But John," Eric said. "We're sor-"

  "OUT! ALL OF YOU! NOW!" my voice was shaking by now. I could feel my ears and cheeks flame up and my nose felt like it was being poked with needles, shaky knees and trembling hands. I was burning to let some tears storm out of my eyes. I couldn't even speak now because the anger was too much that now, if I tried, everyone would see the soft side of me. I didn't want anyone to know that I was a broken hearted, lonesome loser. 

  I held my unclear vision down at the floor as the band members, one by one, made their ways out the door. I could just make out each figure with the corner of my eyes: Ivan, Eric, George, Pete, Bill, Colin, Nigel... Then a figure stopped by me- without a word. Paul.

  I looked up at him with furious blood-shot eyes, "Get out, Paul! By 'All of you' I meant you too! Just cos I flirt around with you and all!"

  "John!" Paul pulled me by the collar. "Don't dare speak to me like that! Why do you have to have such a stubborn mind? Why do you change your mind so quickly and stick to your own decisions? Can't you listen to me for once?"

  "No, Paul!" I said, touching the hand that grabbed my collar. "I can't, Paulie! Hate me as much as you want! I don't know who you all expect me to be! I'm John Lennon and he is a devil! I can't change myself! I'm a swine! Stubborn, big-headed, pervert, vein! All that you all claim me to be- I am that! All the bad things in this world. I'm all that." I had suddenly, helplessly broken into tears. "I'm a loser, Paul. I'm not all perfect like the people I call my mates. I know, you guys don't like me but there's nothin' I can do about that. No matter how much I try..." I looked up at Paul, still slightly angry. "And I do try to be different, Paul..."

  "John," Paul closed the door, took me by the hand and placed me down on a sofa. "Johnny," he sat across me and placed his hand on my knee. "We don't want you to change. We don't want you to be different. We want the devilish John we have got! And if you really think that you are devilish, then I tell you somethin', " he took my hand. "You are the sweetest devil one ever heard of!"

  I looked at the gentle face staring at me. 

  "Wipe those tears of, John. I hate to see you cry... You should be laughing; havin' fun! Don't cry... Don't." he leaned over and pulling a handkerchief out of his coat pocket and wiped the tears off of my eyes. I smelt the rosy smell of him. It was relaxing and soothing. I felt blessed to be cared by Paul.

  "Paul?" I said in a little, weak voice.

  "Hm?" he kissed my forehead.

  "Kiss me?" I closed my eyes, hoping for the best.

  I felt his breath on my lips and felt the warmth as he got closer to me. Lips. Tongue. Paul. McCartney. Love. Love. Love. 

Thanks for reading everyone! I'm delighted to have such an audience group as you.

Love and Peace

TS