Caroline Hayes swirled the ice with a straw in her glass looking bored. Her boyfriend for two months had promise to meet her at the club Four Trees in ten minutes. Now it had been thirty. Caroline should have known better. John was lying to her again, but she never let herself believe it. She kept waiting for John to wake up and realize how poorly he was treating her and start become the man of her dreams. That was too much to ask from John so there was nothing to do but hope and make the best of it.

Maybe John is caught in traffic, Caroline was thinking to herself. She snorted. That was a bunch of bollocks. John was probably too busy getting stoned somewhere or sleeping late with another girl. With a frustrated sigh, Caroline threw her purse strap over one shoulder and left her Coke drink alone on the wooden table. She didn't need a ride home from John. She would fine a cab.

It was raining outside. Well not really rain, but a small drizzle. Caroline cursed softly to herself and waited until it was safe to cross the street. A few people glanced at her, probably recognizing who she was. Caroline Irene Hayes. The woman who was dating John Lennon. Girls all over the world were jealous. They screamed and cried and tore their hair over the sight of John. They wanted to date him, wanted to marry him. Caroline found this quite baffling, because the girls weren't missing much. Dating a Beatle wasn't anything to brag about. It was more of a drag, really. Caroline barely ever got a chance to have alone time with John. It was rare whenever they did.

When the coast was clear, Caroline crossed the street. She noticed a group of reporters shuffling towards her way. Oh goody. Another moment with the press. Could life get any better?

"Miss Hayes! Miss Hayes!" her sandals stopped to a halt at the sound of her name. Caroline plastered a smile as the people surged around her. A young man wearing horn rimmed glasses and a bowler hat shoved a mic in her face, and asked, "How are you feeling today, Miss Hayes?" his eyes were clear and blue as the sky.

"All right, thank-you," Caroline replied. There was no way to escape.

"You just came out from the Four Trees club, did you not?" questioned a woman with sandy blond hair with a clip pinned on the back of her head. Her lips were rusty red, looking as if her mouth was smeared in blood.

"I did..." Caroline's voice trailed careful and slow.

"What were you doing at Four Trees?"

"Miss Hayes, what did you have for a drink?"

"Miss Hayes, where is your boyfriend, John Lennon?"

"Miss Hayes!"

"MISS HAYES!"

"Back up! Give her space!" a new familiar voice yelled through the frenzy. Caroline could see Beatles' press manager Derek Taylor shove and push his way to her. Caroline sighed with relief. She was finally about to be rescued. "C'mon! Move it now!" Derek grabbed her by the wrist and started pulling her along. Her head spun from the flashing bulbs and demanding questions.

"In you go, luv," Derek said, pushing Caroline inside a Cadillac parked around the corner. Caroline slipped inside, feeling the door slam shut behind her. She brushed her bangs away from her face and tried very hard not to look out the windows. Derek quickly got in the passenger seat and gestured for the driver to roar the engine. He turned around in his seat and looked at Caroline. "Those reporters are a bunch of leeches, I tell you. They were suffocating. It's a good thing I came."

"I'm fine, Derek, just take me home," Caroline sighed.

"Are you all right, dear?" Derek furrowed his eyebrows.

"Yes, yes, I am."

"Just asking. Where's your good-for-nothing boyfriend?"

"I was about to ask you that."

Derek shrugged his shoulders. He didn't have a clue. Caroline scowled and clutched the side of her head. "This bloody headache won't go away," she murmured. "And yes, Derek, I'm okay."

He smiled. "Just being caring that's all. You know how much I worry."

It wasn't long before Caroline was home. She pulled her house key out from her purse, but the door opened itself revealing John.

"Hi," he said.

Caroline brushed past him, not saying a word.

"Look, I know I was suppose to meet you at Four Trees," he began, "but something important came up. Paul and I think we just made our next hit single."

"I don't want to hear it, John," Caroline snapped. "I'm going to lie down for now. I have a horrible headache." She headed for their bedroom, closing the door shut.

John rolled his eyes and ran after her. "Darling," he said as he came into the room. "I'm sorry that I blew you off, but you need to realize I'll be doing that a lot, 'cuz I'm a Busy Beaver, me being a Beatle and all..."

"Get out," Caroline said. She rolled to one side of the bed with her back facing John. He smirked and came toward her. "Let's have a go at it. Whaddya say? You and me. Bare naked under the covers..." He leaned over and took a piece of her bra strap from her blouse and pulled it. Caroline winced from the sting of the rubber slapping her skin. "Not now, John," she said wearily. "I'm feeling unwell."

John wasn't listening to her. He pulled the strap again, and then trailed his fingers down to the waistband of her brown corduroy skirt. She shoved his hand away. "Knock it off!" she barked. John froze. His face darkened. "You're no fun. I'll be over at Paul's. Call me when you've stopped being a cranky bitch."

The swear word broke her heart. Caroline held her breath until John was completely out of the room. She sighed and closed her eyes. She really didn't want John to go, but it was too late now. She got her wish and she was alone. Caroline quietly cried to herself until there were no more tears left and took a nap in the late afternoon.