And Your Girl Can Sing

Chapter 64: Shell Shocked

His appearance looked much the same, skin so pale he might have been a ghost, most of his body hidden by a flannel. A hand stuck out of the sleeve, casually tapping at his joint. His face was hidden and I moved around him to try and see it, to make sure it was real, stepping forwards, grabbing him by the shoulders, brushing his long hair out of his eyes to reveal a pair of brown eyes, and under them a calm demeanor.

    "Danny."

    It was like when I met John that first day, prodding him until he got pissed off and pushed me off of him, making sure he was real. Danny didn't shove me off but instead let me touch his face. My left hand eventually landed on his shoulder, squeezing, feeling the soft flannel beneath it, feeling his bones.

    "Get me out," I said shakily, suddenly pushing him away. "Get me out of this nightmare. Now. I want to go home. Oh, Starkey," I slurred, turning towards the steps of the cellar, "If you had any mercy for my poor soul you'd let me wake up in George's house with a nice cup of tea with my novel beside me and away from this godforsaken nightmare."

    "What happened?" Danny asked me. I couldn't tell if his tone was sympathetic or just simply sarcastic.

    "Fuck off," I muttered back. "Of all people to be here it had to be you. Of all people after what just happened to me. Ironic." There was a stab in the back of my head and I groaned, putting both hands on Danny's shoulders, facing him, staring into his brown eyes, now a look of hurt in them. He stood still, looking unsure, and then said, "You never used to curse so much at home."

    "My goddamn bloody boyfriend just fucked my best friend," I spat, reeling. "Would you have a reason not to curse?" He thought for a minute and I paused, remembering my life at home. All the memories came like a series of bullets. My two lives seemed so detached from one another and to recall my other life was hard. No, I didn't curse this much, not at all. Haze.

    My thoughts were interrupted by someone banging on the basement door. "Cora! Cora!" I jumped a little; the voice tore and ripped at me, making my insides freeze. I turned slowly towards Danny, who looked at me intensely and said, "Well?"

    The banging on the door continued and the banging on the inside of my head continued and then I heard George's voice: "She probably doesn't want to see ye, idiot."

    I heard a murmur and then, "—I'm a bloody fuckin' idiot!" George's voice again: "I'll go down, wait, Johnny." The door opened and I stood like a statue as I saw the beginnings of George's drainpipe pants walk down the staircase. "Love? It's just me. Oh." George stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking from me to Danny.

    "Ye found yer coat," I said lamely, looking at the purple object in his arms.

    He ignored this, shuffling his feet and looking at the ground. "This is... bullshite. I'm sorry."

    "Geo, just some time alone, please," I whispered. "Thank ye. I can't speak to him just yet. He has to understand that. It'll be worse if he hangs around tonight. I need time to process. It's too soon." George nodded at me and walked back upstairs. Words were said, John's pleading voice was heard before the door shut and I was left with Danny. I turned away from him. "Hell," he muttered. "George Harrison."

    "Why—are—you—here?" I asked Danny. "If you are Danny, that is. I would not be surprised if you're just a hologram or Paul or something and I'm just talking into thin air for being in such a drunken state." I took my hands off of his shoulders and he stumbled forwards like a little child. I caught him and we both slowly lowered ourselves to the ground. He raised the joint to his lips and I mumbled, "Smoking is bad for you."