Chapter Two:

And so the meeting began. As usual. Exactly the same.

(Except that bloody boy was still staring at me)

The share circle finally started and I glared at the ground when I could just feel the grin coming off the boy staring at me.

"I'm Pete Shotton, I'm 17 and I have a brain tumour and I'm-I'm okay" the blonde kid who was with the boy in the checked shirt said.

Pete. The tumour must only be in its earliest stages but I still felt a bit sad for the older boy.

"I'm George Harrison, I'm 16, I have Lung cancer (No Paulie, I don't smoke but I do wish I could have a ciggy right now) and I'm fine." George answered when the circle came to him. I smiled as he leaned back in his chair and sneered sat Mal jokingly.

"My name is Paul, I'm 17, I have leukaemia and I'm doing shit, thanks" I don't know why people still looked at me in shock when I said that.

I looked in front of me and saw the same boy still grinning at me from the opposite side of the circle. He inclined his head in a questioning manner and I only shrugged as a reply.

I groaned quietly when Bob Dylan stood up as soon as Mal asked someone to share.

He started to drone on and on about life and how he was happy to live it but hearing him say that didn't make me happy in the least-because I wasn't living. I was barely surviving, I was terminal, already dead in the eyes of too many doctors.

I looked up and once again was at the receiving end of that grin. The boy nodded towards Bob and made a gagging gesture and I had to hide a giggle (I'm ashamed to say It was a giggle), which only made the boy grin wider.

And as the meeting went on it became the same again. The same people cried and yelled over the same things, the same people blamed the same people for their unhappiness and I didn't even move or really begin to think until Mal began to talk to me.

"Paul" Mal gestured to me with a smile. "Is there anything you'd like to share with the group? Anything about you? Your fears?"

I thought for a moment. My fears? I didn't have many, I mean at this stage if I didn't fear death I reckon I must be pretty hard.

"Life" I said after a moment of silence. "I fear life" everyone was silent again even George, who usually commented on nearly everything I said.

Mal looked at me with a confused and slightly concerned stare and I had to hold in a laugh.

"I fear life and the possibility you may be remembered after you finally get away from it-that'd be terrifying, being remembered." I felt like I needed to elaborate, explain even though I knew no-one else would understand. Their all too busy trying to leave marks on the world, trying to be remembered themselves.

It was silent until the boy in the checked shirt whistled and nodded at me.

"You are something mate, truly something."

I stared at the boy. I've concluded that he's an idiot.

I didn't speak again during the meeting.

After the final person shared their deep feelings, I quickly got up and sat in an old, dirty chair in the corner of the church. I usually sit there and just think about How one day it might be the last time I ever sit here and it's both scary and exciting at the same time. I just stared at all the people in the room and just…thought about them. They were all so sad and they depressed me so much. Like:

Mick Jagger sat in the circle and never said anything, He was only there so his drug addict friend Keith attended. Keith never noticed how sad and tired Mick looked and I never understood why Mick even hung around the boy anymore.

"Well aren't you thinking hard." My head snapped up when I heard that deep, purring voice and was surprised to the point of heart attack when I saw it was the boy in the checked shirt.

He was standing in front of me with his hand on his hip and a grin gracing his flawless face.

"I'm John" He introduced himself. "And you?"

So John was his name, I briefly wondered if his name was John like my name was Paul but I decided that was dumb because 'John' did suit him.

"I'm Paul" I said, I was confused because I was sure he should have heard me when I introduced myself in the group circle.

"Paul" John repeated. "Now, what are you thinking about?"

"Why were you staring at me?" I asked completely ignoring his question, I wanted to know and I really hoped it was a good answer, an interesting one.

"I think you're very good looking and I like looking at good looking people, it brightens me day mate I tell you."

I stared at John and once again concluded that he was an idiot. Me? Good looking? I looked down at my clothes and I was just wearing black pants, a white shirt and a white jacket and I pictured what my face looked like and I knew any good feature I had was overshadowed by my Cancer baldness (because you could tell as soon as you saw me) and my terrible cancer body. I really wasn't good looking. I was too feminine, too sick.

I looked up at John. He was good looking.

"Hey Paul" George walked over to me and stopped when he saw me having a small staring contest with John.

"You alright?" He asked me. He then looked at John and narrowed his eyes slightly. "Who are you?"

John shrugged and just continued to grin at me.

Soon enough, Pete Shotton walked over to us. He saw me and nudged John and winked at him.

"What?" I said in a bitchy tone and George sneered at them behind me.

"We should go out." John said while looking me in the eye.

What? I hadn't gone out with anyone since I got cancer and John was a stranger. A weird, idiotic, hot stranger.

George raised his eyebrow at John but didn't protest. He simply patted my shoulder and smiled fondly at me. No, no, no, no, I knew that smile. He was about to leave because he thought going out with a complete stranger would 'Help' me with my 'People' skills. No.

I tried to reach for George as he walked away but my legs got tangled in the chair leg and I fell on my face.

"He's all yours Johnny Boy" I heard Pete laugh and when I looked up he was gone too. That left just me and John staring at each other again, I really hoped that didn't become a regular thing.

"Come on Son, let's go outside." I don't know why I took John's hand when he offered me it. I guess George would say I'm not desperate I'm just lonely…I think that may be worse though.

"So, what's your name?" John asked again when he finally walked out of the church.

"Paul" I said slowly. Maybe he was retarded, I couldn't see what was wrong with him so maybe it was in his brain.

"No ya daft git. Your full name." John shook his head at me like I was the stupid One.

"Paul McCartney." I answered while I glared at him.

"I'm John Lennon".

John Lennon. I'm sure I've heard that name before.

"You know" he said. "You look a lot like Elvis"

I blushed at the compliment. I loved Elvis so that was one of the biggest compliments I've heard in a while.

"We should go to my place and watch a movie he was in. I swear if you just put on some more weight you two would be the same bloody person!" He laughed and clapped me on the shoulder and I swear I saw affection shine in his eyes. "You are prettier than Elvis though" he continued.

"You just ruined that moment." I mumbled with a small smile.

He smiled at me. I've already decided I loved his smile.

Only a few seconds later my Father was marching towards us with a strong glare covering his face.

"Paul, it's time to leave." He said. His voice was harsh and out of the corner of my eye I saw John cross his arms and narrow his eyes.

"Paul" My father said again with warning. He glared at John.

I looked at my dad and glanced quickly at John. There were two things He could do. Stay with John or go with my dad, I knew as soon as I got home my Dad was going to lecture me about whoever he thought John was.

"You always wanted me to make more friends." I muttered.

My father glared at me. I looked up and tried to smile at him.

"I'm going to watch a movie at John's place." And with that I sharply turned, grabbed a hold of John's arm and quickly walked away.

I hadn't realized how far away John's house was and by the time we arrived at his home I was horribly tired. I was huffing for breath but I slapped away John's hand when he tried to help me, I glared at him when I could feel that grin forming behind my back.

John opened the door and walked on dragging me behind him.

"Mimi! Where are ya!" He yelled.

An old-ish looking, thin women walked out of What I assumed was the living room.

"John don't yell in my home" she said in a scolding tone that reminded me too much if my dad. I started to relax next to John when she turned her cold eyes on me.

"Who's this?"

"Paul McCharmly" John answered with a mocking look which received a glare from Mimi in return.

"Anyway, we've got to be going. Gonna go watch a movie with Paulie's doppelganger" John grabbed my hand (my hand not my arm, he put his hand in my hand) and dragged me to his room.

John's room was…for lack of a better word: Beautiful. There were posters of old rock legends on the walls, a Rickenbacker 325 leaning on his bed, old records, New CDs. It, too anyone else, would look horribly messy but to me…it truly was beautiful. Not like my room. I had thrown most of my things out in a panic attack last year. I'd rather not talk about it.

"So that was your daddy." John laughed. "Right bastard." I was too tried from the wall to this place to defend my dad at the moment.

"Glad I don't have one." John muttered, I'm not sure if he wanted me to hear but I did and I decided not to say anything.

"What about your mum? She a loon like your dad?" He asked me, his back was facing me while he searched for the Elvis Presley movie.

"She's dead." I said and winced when I heard how robotic my voice sounded. "Cancer. When I was 14."

John didn't turn around, he stayed silent.

I turned my head to look at the many shelves in the room and the one closest to the bed had five white bottles sitting in a straight row. Medication. So you really couldn't see what was wrong with him.

"My mum's-she's dead too" I looked back at John and found he was now facing me with a small, tired smile on his face. He looked so young and even though I had only just met the boy it felt odd seeing him like that.

I stared at him and he stared back and it felt too familiar and too vulnerable and I didn't like the way his eyes seemed so sad because someone like him shouldn't look like that and I missed his grin. That grin.

"I found the movie." He said breaking the eye contact as he lifted up the old movie. Elvis was on the cover, smiling.