DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE BEATLES.
Saturday August 6th, 1960
"So, that's how I got the name," John concluded.
I burst out laughing. He wanted to change our band's name from "Johnny and the Moondogs" to "The Beatles". He claimed he had a vision of a man on a flaming pie who told him: "The band shall now be beetles with an 'A'." He was strange sometimes, but I still loved him.
"You're mad!" I exclaimed.
He grinned, "Mad people are the most interesting kind."
I strummed a few chords on my guitar, "You're right," I agreed.
Today we were going to meet with George's mate Pete. The five of us were going to our typical place in Strawberry Fields and we told Pete to meet us there. I started to play a few of the chords to "Strawberry Fields Forever".
John began to sing, this time it was a new verse, "Always, no, sometimes think it's me. But you know, I know when it's a dream. I think, I know, I mean, a yes, but it's all wrong. That is I think I disagree."
I joined in on the chorus, "Let me take you down, 'cause I'm goin' to Strawberry Fields! Nothin' is real! And nothing to get hung about! Strawberry Fields forever!"
We laughed together and started singing again. Leaves blew down from the tree we were sitting under and landed in our hair. A butterfly landed on the neck of my guitar. I watched it's black and orange wings twitch for a moment, and then it took off flying again. John and I continued to sing, and this time Paul and George joined in, having learned the words. Stuart smiled, but kept quiet.
"So this must be the famous Beatles."
We stopped singing, and I turned to see where the voice had come from. It was some teenager I didn't recognize.
"You interrupted our singing," John said in a mono-tone.
I could tell his temper was flaring up again.
"John, this is Pete," George said a little bit awkwardly, trying to prevent a fight.
John snorted, but said no more. Pete sat down quietly next to George.
John kept his head down, fingering the strings on his guitar. "We're not famous," he grumbled.
"I was joking," Pete said blankly.
John glared at him. I tried to calm him down a bit by resting my hand on his shoulder. I could feel his muscles relax. Paul chuckled awkwardly, trying to break the tension.
George sighed, "…So… you wanna be in the band Pete?"
John made a noise somewhere between a snarl and a cough. Paul shot him an angry look, which he returned.
Pete smirked, "Sure, I could use the money."
John rolled his eyes, "There is no money."
Paul grimaced, "Be quiet John."
John looked ready to punch him again; to replace the bruise that had faded away.
"There'll be money soon," George reminded him, "Brian booked us some gigs in Germany, remember?"
John remained silent and expressionless. "He can join, but only 'cause we need a drummer," with that, John stood up and walked away.
"Gear," Pete smiled.
I rose to my feet and followed John. I caught up with him outside the Fields and we walked home together. When we got back, we went up to John's room to hang out. There were two notebooks lying on his bed. One was his, the other was Paul's.
"Paul left his notebook here," I told him as I flipped through the pages.
John shrugged, "Whatever."
He went downstairs to get some snacks. I opened Paul's notebook to a random page. This song was titled "I've Just Seen a Face". It was dated July 6 '57, the day we'd met.
I read the first few lines, "I've just seen a face, I can't forget the time or place where we just met. She's just the girl for me and I want all the world to see we've met. Had it been another day I might have looked the other way and I'd have never been aware, but as it is I dream of her tonight. Falling, yes I am falling, and she keeps calling me back again. I have never known the likes of this. I've been alone and I have missed things and kept out of sight, but other girls were never quite like this…"
Suddenly it dawned on me. Paul had a crush on me. He'd written this song about me.
I thought back to our conversation on the phone so long ago: "So, er, I was wondering if you guys could maybe come by my house today. We can practice some songs…" whilst Paul was speaking, John made several attempts at stealing the phone from me. He didn't succeed. "Go away!" I yelled at him. "What?" It was Paul, he sounded hurt. I slapped my forehead in frustration, "No, no! Not you! I was talking to John. He's being an arse," I said. "Are you guys together or something?" Paul asked. I shook my head vigorously, but realized that he couldn't see me, "Hell no!" I replied. He laughed, "Okay then. See you guys at three?"
That was why he'd asked. I didn't know what I would say to him next time I saw him. I didn't love him back. Not in that way, at least. I turned to the next page of the notebook, not sure what to expect. I gasped when I saw the song. It was titled "Michelle".
I started to read it: "Michelle, my belle, these are words that go together well, my Michelle. Michelle, my belle, sont les mots qui vont tres bien ensemble, tres bien ensemble. I love you, I love you, I love you, that's all I want to say, until I find a way, I will say the only words I know that you'll understand. Michelle, my belle, sont les mots qui vont tres bien ensemble, tres bien ensemble. I need to, I need to, I need to, I need to make you see oh, what you mean to me. Until I do, I'm hoping you will know what I mean. I love you..."
I shut the notebook and shoved it aside. Paul was going to be heartbroken. I had no idea what to say. John's raggedy notebook was sitting next to me. I slowly picked it up and opened it to his most recent page. I sighed inwardly. His new song was called "It's Only Love". No doubt, about me. These boys were going to drive me crazy.
I read the lyrics: "I get high when I see you go by. My oh my. When you sigh, my, my insides just fly,
Butterflies. Why am I so shy when I'm beside you? It's only love and that is all, why should I feel the way I do? It's only love, and that is all, but it's so hard loving you. Is it right that you and I should fight every night? Just the sight of you makes nighttime bright, very bright. Haven't I the right to make it up girl?
It's only love and that is all, why should I feel the way I do? It's only love, and that is all but it's so hard loving you. Yes it's so hard loving you…"
That one was written the night he'd punched Paul. I was about to shut the notebook when John walked in. His smile disappeared instantly.
"…You read that?" he asked hesitantly.
I nodded. I saw the muscles in his jaw clench. He threw the bag of chips and two cans of soda he was carrying onto the bed and snatched the notebook away from me, hiding it in his closet. He didn't say much for the rest of the night.
Thanks for reading! Peace and love ~ Angie
