Today John was feeling particularly adventurous. Princess Paulie had made them do 13, 13 bloody takes just for one new song they were recording and let us say, the rest weren't really happy about it. Imagine 5 more songs like that, pure torture if you ask John. But then again, nobody asked him anything these days. Ringo, a good little fucker as always, didn't say anything, just rolled his eyes a couple of times. George, after 7th take ganged up with John, spittin' nasty words in a perfect harmony with his mate. He grew a pair over the years, John noted.
After the 3 painfully annoying hours John decided to get himself a bird and a drink to get his mind of the recording and the upcoming movie. They never had a fucking break and he was sick of Paul's constant complaining. Apparently, he wasn't the only one.
Little Georgie looked like he could kill something.
-Ay' mate, wanna go fer a drink? You look like you could use one.-John smirked as his eyes met with another death glare
-Sod off.- George muttered but John could see he was considering it. -Where are we going?-John patted the younger's back lightly and grinned, this was easy.-Don't know. Anywhere I suppose.
George rose up from the place where he was seated on, gently putting his guitar on it and moving across the room, to where John was. The older man waved to the rest who just returned him tired looks, not really paying attention and caring. Two mates exited the studio casually and continued down the road, into the unknown.
-John, where to now?-the younger one asked, bearing a worried expression on his face. He thought the older guitarist had a plan, or at least hoped so, he really didn't fancy getting lost here. They stopped for a moment, just letting the light wind hit them as John debated with himself over the question. He didn't really know where, actually, just wanted a good drink and a shag. But he couldn't tell George that, the lad would freak out. So he settled for an easier way out.
-Where do you want to go, son?-he questioned, begging George to say something, anything.
-You don't know where to go John, do you?-
-Nah mate, jus' asking if you have somethin' better on your mind, is all.-He stated bluntly, putting on a fake smile. George could read him like a book and John mentally cursed himself for thinking he could trick him.
-Fine, I kinda wanted to go to one of those carnivals here, what do you think?-a glint of happiness was evident in the hazel eyes, now hopefully looking at John's dark brown ones.
-A carny, eh? You really are a child Georgie.-John smiled gleefully at his now pissed of mate.
-I'm not a child! I juss' thought it would be fun you git!- he hissed, annoyed by the older bloke. If this is how it's gonna be the whole day, he wasn't interested. -Jesus George, calm down, I was just kiddin' with ya mate. Sure, I suppose we can go, maybe we can get some birds there too, eh son?- George just signed in annoyance and pointed at direction of the fair.
-Lets go.-
Two shadows slowly started moving again, the taller one walking slower than the other, smoking in peace while the younger one, occasionally jumping out of happiness, continued staring at the ground. Those were pure moments, without tension and negativity, the kind that embraces you in a warm silence, protects you and doesn't lie. They both walked beside each other, sharing the feeling of numbness in silence, only registering presence of the other. It was perfect, they were just two blokes going to a carnival, no fame, just John and George, two lads from Liverpool. For John, the words weren't needed really, noise was the last thing he wanted and he knew George knew that. They walked in silence till they reached the fair.
Come on John!- George shouted happily between fast munches of candy in his hands, the lad high on adrenaline after spending the whole day on the fair. The clear bright blue sky was now replaced with a softly pink colored one and it's blood red sun. People were already getting to their homes, but John was stuck here with his mate, or should he say child? George just didn't stop. He already tried out all the rides here, and food...and he dragged John through the whole process. He doesn't know how many times has he heard the line: 'Just this one more, John. We are going after that, promise!' and he stopped hoping for it to come true. It wasn't like he wasn't having fun, but he was getting tired and just wanted to go home, get in his bed and let the dream world take him.
-George, didn't we have enough already?-John glared at the younger bloke.
-No John, we have enough money just for this one!- his long thin finger pointed at a tall colorful Ferris wheel near some shops. Guitarist rolled his eyes and headed to the ride, at least this really was the last one, but damn, that thing was tall! He didn't really have a problem with it, but he knew Georgie would have one later.
-Hello lads, want to take a ride?- a small man asked when they arrived. It was even bigger from this distance.
-Yeah, two tickets please.- They took seats next to each other in one of the transporters.
-Eh Georgie, why did you pick this one? You know what people do in these, don't ya?- John asked with an amused grin plastered on his face.
-Ugh...what?-He replied, visibly confused by John's words.
-Snog Georgie boy.-he whispered sweetly into younger's ear. The skinny lad jumped nearly a mile at this, throwing daggers at John, clearly pissed off. -D-Don't say thi-ings like that!- he uttered, his face getting warm from embarrassment. It was clear that he didn't plan for that but his reaction was priceless, John mused.
-Give us a kiss, eh son?- he said with a mischievous smirk glued to his face. George already had his hands weakly in front of him, a form of a shield forming around him. -Fuck off, you queer.- he muttered, a hint of amusement ringing in his voice, making the older man snicker quietly. -I thought you loved m-!- John just made his way back to his seat when their transporter reached the highest point of the big wheel and stopped with a violent shake.
-Gah!- a tiny raw scream escaped Georges mouth as he squeezed John's hand in a desperate grip and brought their bodies next to each other tightly, fear covering his eyes. John would have laughed at the sight but a burning feeling of disgust was spreading from the closeness between him and his skinny mate. Despite his teasing, queers always bothered him and this situation right now was making him sick.
-Mate, uh...we aren't going to crash or nothin'...so could you, ugh...- he started, his voice raspy and quiet. George seemed to have snapped out of his trance and now was stumbling to the other end of the cabin, his face beet red.
-I'm sorry John...-he squeaked and turned away, admiring the sight outside and avoiding the older's gaze. The rest of the ride was spent in tension-filled silence, both parties gazing through different windows, marveling New York's night scenery.
Their feet touched the ground again. What was that just now? Where did all this tension come from? Why was George acting so strange now...and moving so fucking fast?!
-Oi mate I don't bite! Slow down!- John shouted in vain, the lad already escaping his eye range by turning right, towards the exit. The older man started running now, his feet gently landing on the fluffy grass beneath him. He was just about to reach George when a faint raspy voice called him.
Child, come. The invite was ringing in his head, right there in the middle of it, words crashing in it, making him grit his teeth and turn around. The source, much to John's displeasure, was an old wrinkled lady behind one of the carnivals' stands, the sign saying ''Home-cooked sweets''. Something about it was so alluring and tempting that his legs gave in, walking him to the mysterious place. George had, John noted, turned back, now getting closer with his hands in pockets and eyes glued to the ground.
-Did you just...?-
-Do you want to try some of my sweets child?- the old sent him a weak smile.
-Uh...we don't have any money...- John supplied.
-No matter dear, you can get some free, you look like a nice man.- the elder was now looking at George with curious eyes.-What a 'bout you child?- she asked.
-I'm fine, thanks.- he replied, his gaze still focused on the cold rocks.
The woman, her eyes looking between two men, snickered quietly at the mood.-I've got just what you two need.-she gestured towards two deep-brown cookies on her left. The tag in front said 'binding sweet' which made John crack up, his laugh tearing the thick silence and tension around them.
-Oh god, Georgie come see this shit!- Name's owner tensed at the sound but quickly made his way to the presented thing.
-Eh, wanna biiiiind with me?- John teased using his best seductive voice and batting his eyelashes at his mate. George returned him a very digested look and turned his focus back to the old lady.
-I am sorry, but why are these cookies named like this?-
-Ah, well, they are magic of course! They bind people and their emotions together so they can overcome any issues concerning them. It only brings two humans together if at least one of them has special feelings. The effects of the sweets are different for everyone.- this was the trigger.
-O-Oh god...th-his is priceless, magic...magic George!- John was now losing his balance due to a laughing fit he was having and had to support himself by resting on George's shoulder. -Do you believe this? Oh Jesus fucking Christ, this is nuts!-
-I don't know John, maybe w- he was stopped by the older bloke's hand, now eagerly rising to the sweets level.
-We'll take them!- He cried out in hysteria, not noticing the scared look on his mate's eyes.
-Very well. Have a pleasant night children.- she smiled as the two bodies started moving again, the bigger one going faster than the other. Oh, this is going to be fun.
-Wait till we show these to the lads, they are gonna flip! Magic, eh?-
-John, I don't know...are they really safe?- George asked, fear evident in his tone, making him swallow a lump in his throat.
-Aww, is little Georgie scared?- he asked in a child voice, teasing. Oh god, he loved torturing his little mate. He knew it was wrong and that he needed to stop but couldn't, guitarists reactions always making him snicker.
-Am not. But think 'bout it John, she gave them to us for free. The could be poisonous or somethin'.-
-Don't be like that George. It's not like all that magic talk is real. All rubbish if ya ask me.
The arguing lasted till they reached the hotel, John ready to surprise his bandmates, and maybe scare the shit out of them. Paul would probably just fuss over them getting out and not telling anyone when they were getting back. Ringo, naive lad he is, would try asking so many questions so non would get out and he would just stare at them, fascinated.
Oh, how he was right. John knew what to expect, but somehow he was secretly hoping for a greater reaction. After George has told every bloody detail about their day(purposely leavin' out the last ride which made John confused) they decided, well everyone beside the youngest lad, that it was a good time for them to try out the cookies.
-Ah lads, maybe there should be a magic ritual or something. So it works?- John suggest with a sly grin on his face, knowing he would get full support from them. Ok, maybe not George, but...
-A ritual eh?- Paul said, amusement all over his baby-face.
-Uh mates...- George tried weakly, tired of everything.
-Come on lad, give me your hand.- they linked their fingers together and John silenced the rest. George's hand was warm, soft...what?! Focus John, focus! He dismissed the moment's craziness and turned his head towards the younger's one. George's cheeks were getting a nice shade of red, probably in anger, John thought. His gaze was set firmly on the floor, eyes not visible under dark hair.
-Well alright then, better start before Georgie here falls asleep- No reaction, nothing.-By god's and witch's power I summon magic to these cookies. Let them biiiind me and Georgie boy and shit.- At the end of John's bloody fantastic speech, as he called it, Paul and Ringo started counting to three.
One...
Two...
Three!
Both males opened their mouths and ate the sweet. And then they waited.
Well that was stupid. John didn't feel any different! He had secretly hoped for something, magic. What a let down. He threw a glance at George for a second, scanning the younger lad. His mate was surprised, poor sod, actually thinking something would happen. Now he sounded like a hypocrite.
-Well that was a waste of time.- he said, a hint of disappointment lingering in the air.
-George, ya don't feel anything, eh?- John asked, but after several moments of silence he was getting angry. About George, his lack of words, lack of reaction.
Silence.
Fists clenching.
Anger.
-Bloody hell John, I know you are a cunt sometimes, but that just crossed the line!- George exploded suddenly, fists in the air now, ready to strike. The rest of the eyes in the room winded at the outburst. What the hell?! -I'm not a queer or a scared little baby, or any of the things you said!- He continued, his face twisting into a nasty grimace.
-I didn't say anything like that, Jesus Christ George, what the bloody hell is wrong with you?!- John fought back, surprised. Did he...read me mind? He didn't mean any of those stuff, they just kinda surfaced. But how did he?...
-He really didn't say anything mate.- Paul fended, confused. Ringo just stared. George wasn't showing any signs of stopping anytime soon.
-What do you mean, you didn't? Heard it ringin' in me head, loud and clear! Did it just suuurface?- he was getting louder and louder. What the...
-George...-he tried.
-No...it couldn't be...it can't be John...I heard you...- he was now shaking, covering his ears maniacally. -Hey mate, calm down and tell me what's wrong- Ringo whispered softly, now next to the sobbing lad. -I...I can hear him Ritchie...I hear him...-
-Who?-
-Me, he can hear me thoughts.- John spoke up. This is bloody insane! Was this because of the cookies? If so, why couldn't he hear George's thoughts? He wasn't feeling anything, why?
-Oh god...- Paul and Ringo gasped in union. This was too much for them.
-We can't be sure till we try it George, come here.- John ordered sharply. The lead guitarist made his way to the center of the room, still shaking. The rest of the band was just standing there numbly, too confused to move or speak. -So, it's simple really, I think about somethin' and you say what that is.-
-Fine.-
This is nuts.
-This is nuts.- George said slowly. John tried to stay calm. Could have been a lucky guess...
-It's not, I heard it in me head.-
-Fuck...-John cursed under his breath. How long is this going to last? Forever? How is he supposed to work with George if he was able to read his mind?
-Ok fellas, I am knackered. Come on, we should all hit the beds, we will talk about this tomorrow.- You could always count on Ringo to break the tension.
-Yeah, fine, night mates.- John just wanted some sleep, no George or magic or any of this shit. He slowly started moving towards the room he shared with Paul, his bed calling for him. Just as he was about to reach the door knob, an unbelievable pain made him collapse to the ground, his vision getting blurry. He cried out in agony, the pain spreading through his body, eating away any atom of power he had. Paul, Ringo and George were already on their feet when John shouted, running to help him. He wasn't that far from them, so they were quick to reach him. The first one to reach him was Paul, his eyes full of fear and horror. Following him were the lead guitarist and the drummer, both scared for the man on the floor who was tearing his throat with desperate screams.
And then it stopped. It was like nothing John felt before, the tight line between life and death, waiting for him to fall into the dark abyss. He was so close...and then he wasn't.
Something pulled him out. Just a simple touch, taking away all his pain, replacing it with pleasure and warmness. Safety. The shouting died down, and he was left gasping for breath. He even tried standing up, but a pair of firm hands kept him on the ground. He could even hear faint voices around him, calling out for him.
-John!- voices echoed in his head.
-Jesus mate, are ya alright?!- so distant.
-John...what's wrong?- there it was. The voice so different from the others, so soft and reassuring, protecting him from the world.
He was looking blankly at his savior when something else caught his attention. He turned to the person whose hands were around him, recognizing the long eyelashes and a wide grin. Paul. He too, smiled at the bassist and said quietly:
-Paulie, take me to bed, eh son?-
-Fine, come on John, let me help you stand up.-
-Oh, always there to help me Paul?- he grabbed his mate's sleeve and with a little help got on his feet. What was that sudden pain? What caused it? All this magic stuff was giving him a headache! And why the fuck did George's touch make it go away?
-It did?- George asked curiously.
-I suppose, I don't know anymore.-
-Well, let's put you to sleep John.- Paul urged. They stumbled to their beds, John stepping on Paul's feet every now and then. Ringo and George were just making their way to the room when the world went black. With a loud thud George's head hit the ground, the sound of his jaw connecting with the floor echoing in the apartment. The screams died down with his conscienceless, darkness surrounding him.