Sorry for the wait! College is pretty crazy. But the show must go on!

~Wren

Chapter 8:

Bon-Adventure

"Scotch and Coke please," John murmured to the bartender, still staring at the note. It was as though someone had drenched his fiery excitement using an arsenal of firefighter equipment; he knew his days with her were counting down, and because of that, he had to eat up every second he shared the same air as her- sharing the same Moon couldn't suffice. They had gotten off so well! And he mentally thanked the nonexistent gods for the opportunity of immortalizing their love on the celluloid, soon to be projected onto the silver screen in months ahead. The bartender slightly raised his brows at Lennon's malaise, curious as to what the ripped piece of paper had said.

"Whatcha got there? Fake digits?" The bartender glanced over as he slid the drink to the British man.

John shrugged and nodded, "Yeah, basically." He took a sip and thanked the man. He then looked to his left and right before noticing that the girl that occupied his mind wasn't as far as he expected; in fact, she had only been a few bar stools away. The man behind the bar opened his mouth to speak but John put a finger up and stood up, quickly making his way over to Margot.

"What the hell is this?" He firmly pressed the piece of paper on the bar and glared at her.

"You're really gonna act like this whenever I leave your side? Well, you've caught me," Margot glanced up and sipped her martini. "Didn't think it would take this long, though. What was the hold up? Giving up on our deal already, I see."

Livid, he shook his head and cynically laughed. "Yeah, I just about did, but I'm not going to lose your fucking games,"

"Well, that's good to hear. But let me ask you something," Margot replied, and John lifted his head up to accept. "Why are you so obsessed with me and all of this anyways? By the looks of it, I'm just a hedonist with no direction and you're a man bored with his life, ironically enough."

"Rich and famous at a young age, married with a son, you've got it all," She continued.

"And I'm still not satisfied," John replied, sitting on the stool next to hers. He felt pathetic as she examined him as though he were on a petri dish, magnified under the hot lights of a microscope. "Yeah, I'm a selfish prick, I know, luv."

He turned on the stool to face her. "I just want you. Madly. Can't a man want somethin'?"

"All you want is a distraction from your pathetic life," She coolly replied, lighting a cigarette.

At this point his ego had been badly wounded by her jeering remarks; most often he would have retorted with something clever, but he had gone far in too deep for this to be lighthearted banter. She had been hot and cold consistently, which was easily expected, but her departures were always so unwarranted that he was floored whenever she wasn't by his side. He was frustrated by her constant absence, but perhaps, it also prompted, encouraged him to try harder. He always felt the need to touch her, to feel her and make sure that she was there and not smoke and mirrors; love wasn't a cheap magic trick, after all. He took a moment to introspect on what she had said, and for some reason the word "pathetic" had seared the most into his pale skin, poignant with the sound of her voice. There was no way he could have been bored already, perhaps tired, but never disinterested at the possibility of a new day. He was the most famous rockstar in the world, and here he was, pining for a woman who was only half there. The most preeminent dichotomy in his life was his repertoire of love songs, which sadly did not portray his love life. Not that many songs had been written about Cynthia, though he did adore her; she bared his child and their marriage had been two parts obligation and one part desire. He loved her, but the love he had was worn out and tattered like a favorite book whose covers were barely bound with too many dog-eared pages. Cynthia was his blonde, white angel, but she was no match for the black magic woman. Margot was not a distraction, but a new chapter.

"I'm the pathetic one?" John sneered, taken aback. "You said it yourself, you've got no direction! All you do is screw around and leave! Might as well just live your life aimlessly and accomplish nothing. You better watch that mouth of yours, sweetheart." He said all of this with half defense, half teasing. He bluffed. He had no idea what she had done in her life, her accomplishments, her skills, not even her last name- all of which he ached to learn.

"Please," Margot placed her hand up. "You don't know a goddamn thing about me. You must be bloody bored if you really believe that the first woman who doesn't stay around like a housewife is going to change your life and take you on all these whirlwind adventures."

In all honesty, she really did adore John, but if she was going to be with him, he couldn't be so adamant about love, so desperate. This was no playing "hard to get", but a way for him to grow out of this shallow belief that his life had been nothing before she had shown up. It wasn't up to her to show him how to appreciate the universe; that was all for himself to discover on his own.

"I don't have to be bored to believe that," He spat. "You must be bored out of your wits to be toyin' around with people like this."

"I went to go get a drink, for Christ's sake!"

"Oh sod off, you know what I bloody meant."

"I do whatever I want, so what, John?" Margot said, exasperated. "Does it really bother you that much?"

"God, you're makin' me sound like a real villain out here," He chuckled. "I don't wanna sound like some sad ol' controlling fuck. You and I had a deal and I guess havin' you away from me just drives me mad. Just be with me for the next two weeks and let's see where this takes us."

Margot shot him a look of disbelief.

"Please."

Another look.

"Please, just let me have you so we can actually get to know each other, because I know I'll get you in the end, luv. Also, because I know you and I are the same, I feel it. Just let me get to know you."

She took a swig of her drink. "Sure," she took a drag from her cigarette. "I can't stand you, by the way."

"I can't stand you either," He lowered his eyes and voice, a clear and blatant display of their perennial sexual tension.

Averting her eyes, she stood up. "Let's continue this conversation at the beach. It's too stuffy in here for my liking,"

Eager, Lennon stood up and followed in a way he felt was something short of a dog and its master, though the dynamic disgusted him. They snaked their way through the money hungry patrons and sighed once they reached the fresh, night air. She reached out for his hand and grabbed it, leading the way to the street, towards the sand and ocean. Something about the velvety, indigo colored sky made Margot soften up a bit, and if she focused well enough, she could see silver specks along the giant blanket. Once they hit the sand, she took off her heels, and sat down on the soft sand.

John wasted no time. "Do you even have a last name?"

Her eyes widened, clearly taken aback by his strange question. "Of course I have a last name. Who doesn't?" She realized that she never told him her last name. "It's Bonaventure, by the way."

"Margot Bonaventure?"

"Yes, I-"

He bursted out with laughter, though it wasn't malicious in the slightest. "You've got the most adorable damn name I've ever heard of!"

She bashfully smiled and rolled her eyes as a response. "Shut up. Like I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I'm French."

He studied her facial features closely, dangerously close to kissing her- he ached to do it, but he knew not to jump the gun at this moment. She didn't look particularly French, or British, for that matter. In fact, he didn't know her origins at all.

"You don't look like you've got a lick of French in you," He muttered.

"Of course I don't! Because I've also got Lebanese and Korean blood too," She replied as she grasped a handful of sand.

"More like the blood of a tiger," He was amused by her answer, as he gained more knowledge on her. "You've got the entire globe in you! I'm just some simple Irish Brit, nothing too special, unlike you, Magnificent, or should I say, Bonaventure."

"Hey, I'm no star either. I'm just a girl who enjoys life's pleasures," Margot replied. "I still don't understand why you're so stuck on me." She admitted.

"Like you've said, you're a girl who enjoys life's pleasures," He pointed out. "Maybe that's why I'm so glued to you."

"You have a wife, Lennon," She said. Her voice had seemed crestfallen.

Margot had cheated in the past too; initially, she didn't feel a thing-no sympathy or pity for the heart she broke, simply sweeping the fragments of a glass heart under the rug. Her infidelity had been quite a mess and regardless of how indifferent she felt over cheaters, she did believe that the Devil's work could be easily avoided with a breakup. She felt a pang of pity for Lennon's wife, however, for she knew she was in love with him, nursing his child and probably waiting for him to come home.

"I do," He nodded. "Doesn't mean I can't enjoy you, though. You and her are complete opposites, honestly."

She snickered. "Yeah, she enjoys your presence,"

"Oh, come off it," He laughed, playfully shoving her shoulder. "If you didn't like my presence, why are you here, then? Stop pretendin' that you hate me so much."

"I'm not pretending," Margot said with a grin on her face.

"Is there an award for bein' the worst actress? If so, you've got your name on it!" He laughed, and she began to laugh too. "There's those pearly whites. I've finally got you to smile!"

"Oh alright, I don't exactly hate your presence, Johnny. I'm indifferent, it's not every day where you can have a celebrity dying at your feet" She said as she laughed.

"My, that's a lot fuckin' better than what I expected," He said sarcastically. "Anyways, tell me more about yourself, woman."

"What a loaded request," She scoffed. "Hm, let me think. I design lingerie. I was 'sposed to head off to med school to be a nurse, but I think I'd just end up killing the patients."

John laughed once again, deeply enamored with every word that dripped off her pink lips. Internally, he gleamed at the fact that she designed lingerie, meaning that she would have an extensive collection of delicates that he loved so much on women. He pictured her in all the possibilities that his vast mind could conjure up. Alongside that, she had admitted that she was clumsy, and though a rather strange thing to fawn over, he couldn't help but adore her blatant honesty; she was ungraceful, just like him. He stared at her and said nothing.

"What is it? Is there something on my face?" She reached up to her cheek.

"You're a goddamn dream," He said, cupping her face into his hands and kissing her hard.

"More like a nightmare, old sport," She patted his head.

"Yeah right, you couldn't scare a goddamn bug if you tried to."

"Well, I think I'm doin' a swell job by scaring a certain Beatle."

"Cheeky, eh? You act like you're not scared of anything but whenever I turn around, you've ran off like you've seen a ghost, or somethin'," John pointed out. "So, be honest and tell me what keeps you up at night!"

"Commitment, I suppose," She said blatantly. "I can't stand feeling trapped in one spot, it makes my skin itch. I'd rather be out there on adventures, travelling and experiencing new things. What's the point of living if you're going to be in one place? Doesn't seem like living to me."

"So that's why you keep disappearing. Scared of sticking around with boring men who can't keep their eyes off of you," He mused. He agreed with every word she said, gradually falling deeper into his adoration, for she was something better than he had expected, with a beautiful face and mind. "You and I are going to go on an adventure."

"You're already an adventure," She said half genuinely, half sarcastically. He was interesting, no doubt about that. He had been wittier and more eccentric than any other person she had ever known, and despite her fragmented retreats, she had kept coming back for a reason, for she indeed was drawn to his incendiary nature, savoring and interested with his energy. He perceived her as a challenge, but to her, he served as the noise that distracted her so much from the mundane and monotonous in the world. Perhaps she had been too hard on him. She could see herself in his eyes; she wouldn't mind being with him for longer than expected.

"No, I'm dead-on serious 'ere," He said urgently. "Think of one thing you wanted to do here. There is no way you planned on stayin' here and sleeping in your hotel room all day, getting fat from gourmet meals."

Margot sighed, vulnerable and full of hope. She leaned back and laid on the sand. "I want to go island hopping and explore without a care in the world. Visit all the beaches and go into caves and all that,"

Excited at the possibilities, his eyes lit up. "Let's go then, you and I could be adventurers, hunt animals and climb mountains and all that other good stuff. Adventure is practically your last name anyways, Bon-adventure."

"You're kidding, aren't you?" she looked at him."Bonaventure means good luck, by the way, you twit."

"Not at all, Mars. You and I could be like Tarzan and Jane for cryin' out loud!" He pressed his forehead against her. "Oh same thing!"

"Well, that would explain a lot of stuff, wouldn't it?" She chuckled and punched him in the gut. "Also, Mars? Really?"

"Shit!" He cried out, then rolled over, so that he was on top of her. "Also, yeah, you're pretty outta this world, like Mars. I'm clever."

"You're callin' me a planet? Gee, John, if you wanted to tell me that I'm getting heavy, just say so," She teased.

"Just take the damn compliment, woman!" He pinned her arms up against the sand.

"Well this feels all too familiar."

"Let's do it again, yeah?"

Margot kneed him in the stomach. "You're an idiot." Once he recoiled, she pushed him off of her and straddled him.

"Nah, maybe a swine, but not an idiot," He snorted like a pig. "Anyway, when are we starting this journey? I got two weeks here and then I'm gone. Better savor your time with me."

Shit, she thought. She knew that their affair had to be ephemeral, but she hadn't actually acknowledged how short their time together would actually be, a slight ticking time bomb. Time was never on anyone's side, was it?

"Tomorrow."