AN: I'm going to remind you that I'm just fooling around with this story and you shouldn't take it too seriously.
Paul McCartney P.O.V
Right now I'm on my own to the train station, destination: Liverpool. I don't really know why I have to go there without any kind of company. I asked Brian if my mates could travel with me, but he just replied: "No, I need them here", and I seriously don't understand why. We're a band integrated by four Beatles. How can Brian need them, but not me? And why do I have to go to Liverpool, anyway? All I know is that I am here because of a phone call I had with Epstein some days ago, when I was peacefully watching a documental about animals in danger of extinction and I had to get out of my comfy bed to answer the phone. It went kind of like this:
"Hello?" I answered, hoping it to be a call from John.
"Hey McCartney, it's Brian."
"Oh, hi Eppy."
"Guess who's going to Liverpool next Monday?"
"The Beatles, I guess."
"Nope, only you."
"Me? Alone? Why?"
"Because some filmmakers want to do a documental about The Cavern and they want to interview the artists that had played there, and they want you!"
"But why me? I wasn't the only one playing, y'know."
"Because they only want to interview one integrant from every band."
"But why me?" I insisted.
"I don't know, they just requested you and I already said you'll be there. You have a compromise."
"Can they accompany me, at least?"
"No, I need them here. You'll travel alone."
"Not even John?"
"No, Paul, but you'll be fine."
"I don't want to travel alone. Not even to my home-town."
"Come on, Macca! You love documentals, isn't it like a dream to appear in one?"
"You win Eppy, I'll go."
"You won't regret it! I guarantee you that."
"I hope so…"
And that phone call led me to be here alone in this bloody train station. They didn't even come to be here with me until the train arrives, because the three needed to do something I'm not aware of.
A ride to Liverpool from London isn't too long; they are both in England, after all. Truth is I never liked being alone in a media of transportation, and they didn't even bother showing up to be here with me.
Inside the train I spend most of the time playing some old tunes in my guitar, whilst the people on it sing cheerfully, very pleased to be sharing a wagon with a Beatle. I'm really glad the train doesn't have many passengers on it; just fifteen people or so, I think. Most of them old, so they don't go crazy over Beatlemania.
The hours pass and I finally arrive to my hometown. I would be lying if I say I hate Liverpool; that's where I grew up and spent the majority of my 23 years of life. But it's not my favorite city either. I think everyone has kind of the same feelings about their hometown: you can't deny how much you like it, but don't want to be stuck there your whole life.
Now, I have to head up to The Cavern, the club that saw us growing up as musicians.
It hasn't changed much; the only weird thing is that the local seems to be closed, but it's probably because it's still too early. Eppy just said: "When you arrive to Liverpool just go directly to The Cavern and you will find out about the rest there." He didn't give me any other information, so I guess I'll have to wait until someone arrives.
After looking through the glass for some minutes, I try to open the door guessing it was locked, but for my surprise, it wasn't. I step inside the claustrophobic place, and ask: "Someone's here?"
I wasn't expecting to get a reply anyway, but a certain lad comes from behind the bar, and with a childish expression, jumps to where I am, exclaiming, "Me!"
I can't help but smile slightly when I find that the only person inside the club with me is John Lennon.
"What are ya doing here?" I inquire, pretending I don't care for his presence at all.
"Oh, please, Macca…" he gets closer, embraces my back and caresses the locks of hair falling in my forehead. Damn it, John… He always does that kind of stuff that reminds me that I can never act like I don't care, because I actually care too much. He chuckles in his characteristic way, and whispers lightly in my ear: "Don't play hard with me."
I turn around to reply: "Like if that's even possible…"
He smiles triumphal and flashes me a flirty look. After a couple of minutes of mutual loving gazing, I feel the need to ask, "Do ya know where the documental blokes are coming?"
My innocent question provoked his laugh. "There isn't any documental about The Cavern."
"What are ya talking 'bout? That's why I am here."
"Paulie, I think no one will ever shoot a documental about a club."
I don't understand what's happening, therefore my confused eyes are staring at his, like telling him with my look that I'm ready for him to explain me everything, because he seems to know more than I do.
"There's no documental. The reason why you're here is because I want you to be."
The reason why you're here is because I want you to be. What are those words suppose to mean?
He finally explains, and I can tell he's hiding something else. "I wanted to spend the day with you, and I wanted it to be a surprise, so after hours of bothering Eppy I convinced him to call you and invent something for you to be here."
"So you planned all of this just to spend the day with me?"
"It wasn't much, really. The hardest thing was to convince Eppy. But yes, I wanted to be in Liverpool today with you."
"What's the occasion?"
He pulls me closer, grabs both of my hands and brushes his forehead with mine. "The occasion is I love you."
Right after, our lips meet for the first time in that day. Every time I'm with him I wonder what I am when he's not there. The way we know exactly the weaknesses of each other is an advantage and a disadvantage. I could be tremendously mad or angry and forget about every damn thing in just one second if he kisses me like this; and that's when I think, how did I survive that amount of hours without being kissed by his gentle lips?
After enjoying our long and warm kiss, he separates a little from me, and articulates those words that leave me confused again. "Now that you know there's no documental thing, I have to go."
"Go? Weren't you going to spend the day with me?"
He completely lets go of me and approaches the door. "Don't worry, we'll meet later, darling. Just stay here until something happens."
"What do you mean by 'Until something happens'?"
Ignoring my question, he just blows a kiss and smirks. "You'll know,"
He shuts the door and I'm left alone again.
Now I don't understand anything at all. According to John, I took the train because he told Brian to tell me about some lads interviewing me for a documental that's never going to happen. Then, when I figured out there isn't going to be any bloody documental, John tells me that he told Eppy to tell me that because he was planning to spend the day with me here, but now he left and told me to stay here until something happens. How do I know what is going to happen? Anything can be. And what was his reply? You'll know. How he's so sure I'll know? Well, if he's sure, I should be sure, because he knows me better than anyone else. I just don't want to be here alone, but… I already am.
Lesser than I expected, the thing I was waiting for happens. Some bloke I'm sure I have seen before accesses The Cavern. He smiles shyly and greets. "Hello Paul, do you remember me? I'm Ivan."
Of course I know him! This lad is the one whom introduced me John seven years ago! "Ivan Vaughan? How long!"
He titters nervously. "Oh, I see you remember me…"
"How can I forget about you? I owe you my life."
"Really? Oh wow, who could tell I owe the life of a Beatle…"
"You introduced me John in the Woolton festival where the Quarry Men performed."
"I see you remember."
"I'll never forget that day, and I have the need of telling you how grateful I am for your insistence that led me to assist at the festival. Without you, I wouldn't be a Beatle today, and all those Lennon/McCartney songs wouldn't exist."
Ivan scratches his ear. "I'm sure if I hadn't introduced you two, you would have met in the future. I mean, Liverpool isn't that big."
I'm sure Ivan's arrival is the thing John told me to wait for. That means he actually had this planned from long before; but what for? And why the hell did he leave? Before my curiosity kills me, I ask, "You're here because John told ya to be, right?"
"Err… I am actually here because I want to take you to listen to a band of a friend of mine."
A band of a friend of mine. Why does that sound so…familiar to me?
"Sorry for asking, Ivan, but what does that have to do with John?"
"You'll see."
And that's the second time of the day when I get those two fucking words as an answer.
Ivan takes me inside one of the classic Liverpool busses; since years I don't take one of those. He's driving and I am the only passenger. I cross through all those childhood places again, wondering the final destination. John wants me to be in one specific place, I know that. But why Liverpool? Of the four, John is the less apprehensive about his birthplace; he actually said once, "I grew up in Hamburg, not Liverpool."
None of this made sense to me…yet.
Once Vaughan tells me to get out of the bus, I follow him to where he was taking me, and then I feel like a total fool when I realise I'm standing in the same place where I eyed the love of my life for the first time.
There's a little stage, in which John, George and Ringo appear, all dressed as Teddy boys, like they used to in the late fifties. My partner grabs a microphone, and after smiling directly to me, pronounces: "Hello all, we're the Quarry Men Skiffle Group."
And that's when something illuminates my head and things start to make sense for me. We're in the place we me met, and he's dressing like he used to that time, he introduced himself as a member of the Quarry Men and is probably going to play something now with Geo and Rings. Ringo was never a part of the Quarry Men, and George joined later when I got him in, but having the three men I love most standing in front of me, getting ready to play a song for me is too much.
They all start playing their instruments, and John begins to sing,
Love, love me darlin'
Come and go with me,
Please don't send me
'way beyond the sea;
I need you, darlin',
So come go with me.
Oh dear Lord, he's singing Come go with me by Del-Vikings. This is the first song I heard him sing. In 1957 he didn't know the lyrics, therefore he improvised. Now he's singing it right.Come, come, come, come,
Come into my heart,
Tell me, darlin',
We will never part;
I need you, darlin',
So come go with me.
Half of the song and my face is already full of tears. I don't have any reason to contain them. I never cared about people seeing me cry. My boys are doing the most beautiful thing someone has ever done for me.
Yes, I need you,
Yes, I really need you,
Please say you'll never leave me.
Well, say, you never,
Yes, you really never,
You never give me a chance.Come, come, come, come,
Come into my heart,
Tell me, darlin',
We will never part;
I need you, darlin',
So come go with me.
Immediately after the song ends I clap like crazy. The three ran inside the Church Hall without me. I am too astonished to even think about anything.
Ivan touches my shoulder slightly to catch my attention. "Would you like to meet the band?"
Just like in July 6 of 1957.
When the thought of July 6 crosses my mind, I almost desperately ask Vaughan: "Introduce me the band members, indeed! Just tell me something, was yesterday July 5?"
I don't know why I asked a complex question like that. I could have simply inquired 'What day is today?'
He nods and that makes me cry even harder. Today is July 6 and I just realise that now! That's why he's doing all of this; today is our anniversary!
I run inside the St. Peter's Church Hall where I talked to John for the first time with Ivan.
Ivan introduces me, "Hey lads, this is Paul. He plays too."
"Paul is your name, huh? And why are you crying? We played that bad? Or were we just so bloody amazing for you to handle it?" John jokes with one of his cocky comments he used to joke with when he was younger; and well, he still does sometimes. I assume I have to keep playing the game, as if we were meeting for the first time.
"Auditions are over, kid." George jokes too, taking his character seriously.
"Don't be too hard on him," Ringo joins the little game. "Let the bloke play something."
I wipe away some tears to keep along with the game, though I'm sure my face is still red. George hands me a right-hand guitar, like the one I used the day John and I met, so I have to play it upside down, like before. I grab the guitar gently and play the song that got me in The Quarry Men. I impressed John that day, because I played some chords he didn't know and knew all the words to Twenty Flight Rock by Eddie Cochran.
Oh well, I've got a girl with a record machine
When it comes to rockin' she's the queen
We love to dance on a Saturday night
All alone, I can hold her tight
But she lives in a twentiest floor up town
The elevator's broken down
So I walked one, two flight, three flight, four
Five, six, seven flight, eight flight more
Up on the twelfth I started to drag
Fifteenth floor I'm ready to sag
Get to the top, I'm too tired to rock
When she calls me up on the telephone
Said c'mon over honey, I'm all alone
I said baby, you're mighty sweet
But I'm in the bed with a achin' feet
This went on for a couple of days
But I couldn't stay away
So I walked one, two flight, three flight, four
Five, six, seven flight, eight flight more
Up on the twelfth I'm ready to drag
Fifteenth floor I started to sag
Get to the top, I'm too tired to rock
Well, they sent to Chicago for repairs
'Till it's a-fixed I'm using the stairs
Hope they hurry up before it's too late
Want my baby too much to wait
All this climbin' is gettin' me down
They'll find my corpse draped over a rail
But I climbed one, two flight, three flight, four
Five, six, seven flight, eight flight more
Up on the twelfth I'm ready to drag
Fifteenth floor I started to sag
Get to the top, I'm too tired to rock
When I finish my song, I could see John's little tears rolling down his cheeks, staring at me with an incredibly tender look.
"Happy anniversary, Macca." When I hear that, I know that the little game is over and this is serious now. I'm not that recently-turned-on fifteen teenager anymore.
"Happy anniversary to you too, Johnny. I can't believe this is happening! You planned all of this to give me an anniversary surprise." I hug him tightly while I listen Ringo whispering to George, "They are the cutest couple, aren't they?"
I can't take the part of the credit out of the two other Beatles, so I invited George and Ringo to join us for a group hug. "D'aww, guys! You were part of this too! Come and join, I love you all so much."
And that group hug was probably the warmest in the history of hugs. Nothing can stop us. John, George, Ringo and me will be together till the end.
"You all look so adorable dressed like Teddy boys with the Elvis hairstyle." I comment, laughing a little.
"Yeah… We were into leather until they made us use the fucking little suits…" John says with a complaining face.
"But you all know I was the real Ted!" Ritchie proudly says.
George burst out laughing. "But John is the one that hates the suits most. He's always talking about throwing them out of the window."
"Guys… Were the hell is Ivan? Wasn't he there?" I ask, completely changing the conversation topic.
"I think he left…" Ringo speaks.
"Thanks for pointing out the obvious, mate." George replies, making us laugh again.
"Maybe this was too queer for him to handle." John jokes, and that makes us laugh even harder, if that's possible.
George smirked at John jokily to say, "Let's calm down, lads… Paul hasn't seen the other part of the surprise."
"Another surprise? Wow… You all must love me so much…"
"And we do!" Ringo claims, as the other two nodded in agreement.
John cleares his throat, and approaches. "But no one loves you like I do, Paul; no one. I don't know what I was doing with my life before I met you. You fucking taught me how to play the guitar properly! You were always better than me in every way, but ridiculously I was and still am the cocky one. When I think of all the good things that had happened to me, you're the first thing crossing my mind. Hell, you're the first thing that crosses my mind when I wake up, and it seems that you're the only thing I can think about. You invade my thoughts, McCartney. Sorry for every time I've hurt you or done something stupid, because you clearly don't deserve anything bad. I'm not even sure if I deserve having you as a partner. Songwriting with you is probably what I enjoy the most, you can't imagine how much I love that when we write songs together you give me whatever chord or word I need; like if we were connected, and I believe we are. You see who I really am; you know my weaknesses, strengths, fears, dreams, as if you could look directly to my soul. You're my inspiration to write, and what reminds me that life doesn't suck as I always claim it does. You're the definition of perfection, and I know you always say I exaggerate about that, but I am not. I love how you worry about everyone else before thinking of yourself, how the tiniest things make you blush and giggle, how you hardly complain about something and always look for the bright side of things, how every little detail is important to you, how I can't spend much time with my tie loose because you always tighten it for me, how obsessive you are about keeping everything organized and clean, how you can melodically play every goddamn musical instrument you touch, how your eyes sparkle when you're happy, how you barely move when you sleep, and I could go on like this forever. July 6 of 1957 was the day my life changed, and that's why I chose today, July 6 of 1964 to ask if you, James Paul McCartney, will marry me."
Is this really happening? John Lennon did just ask me to marry me? The initial shock won't allow me to say anything. That's the longest and most beautiful speech I've ever heard. Crying is the only thing I can do.
"I-I love you." It was all I could manage to say. I throw myself to John, grabbing his neck, starting a passionate and powerful kiss, feeling each other's tears.
"Can I take that as a yes?"
I nod, pulling him from another kiss, longer than the last one.
Ringo and George sob and clap. I couldn't ask for better friends. The rest of the day went magnificent. I'm officially John Lennon's fiancée.