HEY LOVELIES. Welcome to Meredith McLennonstarrison, which is now For No One because that damn song describes it. Quick update... Umm, the song that's in here... That is The Flood by Enter The Haggis. Great band. And actually, I'm an "executive producer" of the album "Whitelake" that it's on. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Rating: T for swearing, possible...intercourse in the future... Yep.

DISCLAIMER: I (sadly) do not own the Beatles. Or anyone/anything associated with them.

Meredith's POV

Broken-Hearted Paul

I arrived at me and Paul's home. I walked in, knowing he would most likely be home shortly. I sat on the couch in our living room and sighed, looking at some of the guitars. I was tempted to pick one up and play it, but when I did, my heart refused to open up and accept the happiness I usually got from playing music.

I felt alone and hated. I had such a beautiful day with my best friend, but Paul decided to take a shit on it with his jealousy.

I picked up the phone and got ready to call George, but I stopped myself. I couldn't go to George for comfort. I had to give Pattie some time with him.

So I dialed a different number.

"Hullo?" A familiar voice answered.

"Hey, John?" I spoke with hesitation.

"Meredith, baby! How you doin'?" John asked in a New Yorker voice.

I chuckled. "I'm fine," I said.

"That's good." He said, going back to his regular accent. "So, have you seen Paulie yet today? I'm assuming 'no', because you're alive and talking to me, and he seemed pretty pissed when he found out that George checked you out early."

"Uh, yeah, actually, that's what I wanted to talk to you about..." I said and then quickly told him about my day.

When I finished, he paused as if he were pondering what I said. Which was probably true. "Is he home now?"

"No," I said. "And I'm not looking forward to seeing him either."

"Mhm," He said. "And George probably isn't the best lad to go to right now..."

I nodded as if he could see me, but he continued on as if he did see my nod. "Well, you can stay at me house for the night," He offered. "And I promise, I won't try to sleep with you!" He spoke quickly.

"Smart move, Lennon," I said. "Alright, I'll pack a bag and head on over soon. Thanks."

"Don't thank me," I could hear his sly grin that was seeping through the phone. "Thank Paul."

I half-chuckled. "Bye," I said and hung up. I ran upstairs and grabbed myself a small backpack and filled it with some clothes. Before leaving, I wrote a note to Paul, saying that I was going to John's. I knew it'd piss him off. And that's what my goal was.

I pulled on my coat and made my way out of the house. I held my keys in my hands, my fingers trembling from the cold, autumn evening. It was about 8 in the night. The cold breeze calmed me, even though the trembling in my fingers was supported by the anxiety I received from Paul's hateful glare earlier today.

I slid into the front seat of my car, putting my right hand on the steering wheel as I used the other to stick the key in the vehicle's ignition. I sighed, zoning out on the house before me. It was beautiful. It was mine. But a lump crawled up my throat as it dawned on me that the house I was calling my home would soon become temporary.

I drove out of the driveway as shame and sadness drove into me. As I crept down the street, I said goodbye to the house, in case I would never return. The house was dark and returned the sorrow that it was given when I said my farewell to it. I slouched in my seat, and let a tear trail down my cheek.

Although Paul and I never ended it earlier, I knew that our relationship would soon come to a close due to the stress and publicity that began to clog it up. It killed me on the inside. And what worried me even more was the fact I knew that if I continued being best friends with George, Paul and George's friendship would come to an end. If they hated each other, then the band could break up. I could possibly break up the most legendary band in history. I would become the parallel world's Yoko.

I couldn't let their friendship end. I couldn't become the new Yoko. I never intended for there to one day be bumper stickers that'd say "Still pissed at Meredith." I hated knowing the potential future. I intended on saving it, not destroying it.

I would save it. My decision to go to John's flat for the night was just a glimpse of what I had to do to save the future of the Beatles. But going to John's house wasn't the main thing I would have to do to change the course of the future...

I would have to give up George.

I would have to save George and Paul's friendship. Though Paul would still hold a grudge on George for breaking him and I up, if I never spend time with George, he wouldn't have reason to get mad at George for spending time with me.

I pulled up John's driveway to see him leaning against the door frame, smirking. I wiped the tear from my eye quickly and grabbed my bag. I got out of the car and walked up to him.

"Why, hello there, Meredith," John said in his seductive tone of voice. I rolled my eyes. He put his hand on the small of my back and guided me into his house.

In many ways, the warmth of John's touch made me feel better; however, I couldn't get over the guilt of going to his house.

John showed me around to the kitchen, the music room, the many bathrooms, his room, etc. He finally showed me to the spare room, which was beautiful for a room that's never used. "And this is where you'll be sleeping," John said, coming out in front of me. "Unless, of course, you'd rather sleep with me." He smiled slyly.

I laughed. "Still not working, Lennon." I bit my lip and walked past him. I put my bag on the bed and sat next to it. I stared off at the wall, thinking of Paul. Sorrow and guilt plastered over my face. John sat down next to me, noticing the look on my face, and pulled me into a hug. I rested my head on his shoulder and sobbed quietly.

Paul's POV

The wind of her ghost frightened me.

I stood on the pier. She had just walked past me to the bus to make her way home. I didn't dare to watch Meredith leave. I knew that I'd only feel great pain from it. I would cry.

It was my fault. Instead of trying to talk to her, I gave her the coldest of stares. It was a stupid idea, considering the fact that I'm good at what she calls "bitchfaces". I was angry, yes, but I didn't mean to show her any hatred. I love Meredith more than anything in the world, but my stare didn't tell her that. It told her the opposite, and I knew it.

My girl had gone away with the thought that I hate her.

My anger turned into guilt. I turned and began to walk off the pier and to the sidewalk. I couldn't let her believe that I no longer loved her. I had to talk to her. And I had to do it before she left me for good. With the determination to keep her, I began to run home.

What would I say to her? We've had fights and we've had times where I'd hurt her. All those times I knew it would be alright afterwards, and I'd have my usual way of comforting her. But this time...This time I knew that I was going to lose her. It was the last straw.

Trust. Trust was the last straw. And we've lost it.

I had to do something, I had to say the right thing. My mind was running as fast as my feet. I finally barged through the door. "MEREDITH!" I called to her, out of breath. I put my hands on my knees for support as I took deep breaths. I waited for a few moments, knowing that she'd take a bit to work up the nerves to come downstairs. When she didn't answer, I tried again. "Babe!"

No response.

I rolled my eyes. "She's so stubborn," I muttered to myself. I walked through the hall to the stairs so I could go up to our room and get her. Something caught my eye on my way: a stray piece of paper on our organized counter.

I walked up to it and picked it up. It was a note and it was addressed to me. It read:

Paul,

I've figured that you don't really want to see me tonight (and probably never again), so I decided to do you a favor and leave.

...A tear ran down my cheek. "No," I said. "She can't leave...NO!" I ran a hand through my hair, stressed and hurt, but I continued on reading...

I don't know when I'll be back, but when I do come back, I'll be sure to grab all my stuff. I'll be staying at John's place for a bit, so if you want my stuff out now, you can bring it there. Thanks.

-Meredith

I clenched my fist that held the paper. "Oh, she is not staying at John's!" I yelled. I grabbed my coat that I left earlier and put it on as I made my way out of the door. I got in my car and drove to John's with speed.

General POV

"Alright, you play me the song," said John. Meredith groaned. "And I'll massage your shoulders as you do." John grinned at her.

Meredith narrowed her eyes. "I don't know if I should trust you in this deal."

Earlier on that night, John had taken a long shower before making dinner for him and Meredith. During the time of those two events, Meredith managed to write a song. She announced it to John during dinner that she wrote a song, but she refused to play it for him. And so came John's favorite trick: bribery.

"How could you not?" John asked. "I give you a wonderful 'John Massage' while you play the song for me. There's no way of getting out of it for either of us."

Meredith rolled her eyes. "Fine." She finally gave in.

"Yes!" John said, and sat behind Meredith on the couch. His feet were on either side of Meredith, which at first made her uncomfortable, but it stopped bothering her when John began to rub her shoulders. It was soothing for Meredith, and it sent chills up her spine. John chuckled when she shivered. "Play," He ordered softly.

And so she did.

By 2 pm the rain is gone

Clear and cold above

Water slowly fills the shadows on the lawn

Never makes a sound

Leave it all behind you and head for higher ground

All these years

Of commitments and careers

We're all up to our ears in fear and doubt

And water flowing

Down and out

Down and out

We all try

To drown it out

Drown it out

And stay dry

We all try

Quietly the valley fills

With nothing but a sigh

They shake their heads from high up on the hill

Where everything is dry

No need to build a boat

Under sympathetic skies

So we fight

To be warm and water tight

It's not the sunshine blinding us

It's just the fear of finding that we're

Down and out

Down and out

We all try

To drown it out

Drown it out

And stay dry

We all try

And maybe there's still time

Maybe we should find a tree to climb

But it's easier not to be afraid

And simply close your eyes

Than just watch the water rise

We all try

To stay dry

She finished the song with the light strum of her strings.

When Meredith expected John to stop massaging her shoulders, he didn't. In fact, his touch became stronger than before. She set the guitar on the ground in a way so it was leaning up against the couch beside them.

Without much change of position for both, John laid back against the couch, pulling Meredith back on him. He yawned as he was getting tired and then moved his arms from Meredith's shoulders to around her. He put his hands over Meredith's, lacing their fingers together in a strange, yet comfortable way. He brought their hands to rest on her stomach.

Meredith was comfortable and didn't want to move away from John, but she felt guilty for it. She was still only in a relationship with Paul earlier on. It was bad enough that she was at John's, never mind cuddling with him. She began tapping her fingers on her stomach nervously.

"Meredith," John whispered in her ear, stopping her fingers by lightly taking hold of them. "Just sleep."

She could tell by his whisper that he was falling asleep. And so she closed her eyes, and the two of them drifted off to sleep.