Paul McCartney P.O.V.
1976. It was one of those days when I was very nostalgic. I started to watch some old The Beatles' videos. Ah, those great times. How much fun we had! I truly miss those crazy days when I was a Beatle. My life changed when I joined The Quarrymen. We played in bars like The Cavern, on boats where would eat fish and chips (what else?), or any other place where we could show we really knew how to rock and roll. We even played as a backing band for a stripper that got naked right in front of us. I enjoyed too much being with John, George and Ringo. We were four naughty boys wanting to experience a whole lot of things, such as getting drunk and trying drugs. Bloody hell, we had a serious addiction to weed, that's why we used to sing "I get high with a little help from my friends". Tours around the world where so much fun, we used to feel like gods because of the Beatlemania phenomenon. Everyone loved the four long-haired boys from Liverpool. Fans were irritating sometimes, but what else could we do? As my mate Lennon said, we were even more popular than Jesus Christ. Oh, John… We used to spend our nights writing and composing songs. One thing I loved about our friendship is that when we were teenagers, we made a pact stating that we would sign every song by the signature Lennon/McCartney. It didn't matter if only one of us had worked on the song; our pact was unbreakable. Eventually, that pact disappeared with the separation of our band. That was fucking awful to me, because I was the only one who had hopes and thought the band could go on. I remember that bloody day when I was talking with John about the new plans I had for the band, when he said, "I'm out". Those two bloody words hit me even harder than a gunshot could do. He decided to stay with Yoko Ono and start a solo career with her. For so many years I blamed her for the dissolution of our band, and most of all, for losing John. My John. Later I realised that even though we never got along fine and she criticized our work every time we were on the studio, it was not entirely her fault. John also had a huge part on it. It's just that I didn't want to believe that he wasn't so enthusiastic anymore about writing songs with me, that he spent more time with her, and actually enjoyed that a whole lot more than he enjoyed being with me. Those last years in the band I could see in his eyes that sometimes he felt like he was forced to be part of The Beatles; and that used to kill me inside. After the band was officially dissolved, we sometimes talked by the phone or passed by once in a while to see each other; but we never played music together again.
But today I feel like I miss him more than I normally do. Should I call him? Bloody hell, no. I'm going to travel to New York City, where he lives now, and visit him just to spend time together and play the guitar.
While I was on the train, I was excited to see him. I couldn't wait to arrive. When I was finally at the station, I took a taxi that left me right in front of the Dakota building, his actual home. I stood there at the front door for some minutes, closed my eyes and said to myself "You can do this, McCartney. He's your best friend." I knocked the door and when John saw me holding my guitar, he just stared at me for a second and said coldly, "What are you doing here with that guitar? I have bread inside the oven and I have to change the baby's diaper."
As he said that, he quickly closed the door. What on Earth I was thinking when I thought it was a good idea to travel here hoping he would like to play the guitar with me like the old times? When am I going to accept that I lost him forever? It's funny how I talk about him like if we had a romantic relationship or something, because we didn't. I know more than thrice we shared a kiss on the lips, obviously when we were drunk; but more than that, we were inseparable. More than best friends, we were partners and confidents. We shared the most unique things. But everything has its end. When you are 21 years old, and you are happily playing music with your best friend, the last thing that could pass by your mind is that someday you will be so distant to that beloved person. Why didn't he let me enter to his house? He could have let me pass, and I could have helped him with Sean, or whatever. I remember when he had his first son, Julian. He was 23 years old. He wasn't even there when the child was born. Jules says that he has more confidence with me than with his dad, and he has more memories with me than with his own father. I even wrote for him the song ''Hey Jude", because he was so sensitive about the divorce of his parents, because John cheated on Cynthia. My relation with Julian is very special, and I wish John could let me be a part of the life of his new baby, Sean. Right now he isn't working in his music because he wants to take care of his house and son; something he didn't do with Cynthia and Julian. And that's what happens when you're deeply in love, and I know John is deeply in love with her. But why did he have to treat me that bad? I feel like he's acting to me like I'm a total stranger, and I know him since I'm only 15 years old. Since we met, we figured out how much we had in common, like our obvious passion with music, and the fact that we both had dead moms. He used to tell me all the time "You know I love you, Paulie." Now I can't even remember the last time he said that to me, a phrase that seemed to me something common to hear. Will we ever be what we were before? I just need to get back home and face things. I went back to the station thinking about the waste of time that was coming to New York just to give him a surprise.
As I was sitting waiting for the train, feeling terribly, of course, I saw a long-haired man with circle-shaped glasses running to where I was.
"Paul!"
"I…"
"No. You don't have to say anything. Sorry for being an asshole to you. What the hell I was thinking? I'm really sorry about everything. I've been treating you like shit all these past years, and you still are so nice to me after all I did to you. You came in a bad moment today, I was having a discussion with Yoko, but that doesn't involve you. I could have let you in and let you help me like you used to do with Julian. I don't deserve having you as a friend."
At that moment my face was full of tears. ''It doesn't matter John. I should have called you to ask if I could visit."
"But when we were younger we never called for that. We just appeared on each other's houses in the middle of the night."
I shrugged, "Things changed."
John was crying too. I could see that he was sorry, but we can't change what happened. Not only what happened today, but all the things that have taken us apart all these years. We shared a hug that lasted minutes, like we didn't want to separate from each other; like if one hug could fix all the problems we have had. But it couldn't.
And then he said it. That simple sentence I longed to hear for so much, "You know I love you, Paulie."
I didn't know what to reply, so I just smiled slightly pointing, "My train arrived."
"I guess I have to go back home or Yoko will be mad at me…"
We didn't say goodbye with words. He just kissed my forehead, waved and went away as I got silently in the train. It would have been awesome if he'd told me something like "Please don't go. I need you." But that didn't happen, and I didn't expect that to happen, either.
Even though we've fallen apart a lot through the years and anything it's like it was before, I will never doubt that he loves me, and of course, I love him.
A/N Thank you for reading!
Disclaimer: I don't own John or Paul (only in my mind)
