WAZZUP GUYS? Okay, I am SOSOSOSOSOSO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT. This is my first time updating a story after school started, so yeah, it's gonna be a really busy ten months! Another reason is that I wanted this chapter to turn out just the way I wanted it to, so I tweaked it, added more drama and such, so I really hope you like this chapter, but you're not supposed to…you'll see what I mean…
Chapter 3
Paul didn't know where he was going. He had furiously stormed out of the studio and headed straight to his car, not even bothering to cover himself with his umbrella. He carelessly shoved his bass to the passenger's seat, ignoring the obvious crracckk! that followed. Soaking wet and below body temperature, his shaky hands started the ignition and drove off.
Contemplation on his destination continued. He didn't want to go home, but he didn't want to return to the dreadful studio either. Public places were crossed out on the mental list as well, since his disguise was ruined by the water. Should he go to Jane's? No, he didn't want to risk ruining his wonderful relationship with her…Family home? Personal problems shouldn't recklessly grow, no matter how big of a personality you were.
He decided that he would leave the decision for later and just…drive. The road seemed to be strangely empty, Paul's car being the only one on the road.
Tok! The sudden split second of noise made Paul flinch. He vigorously spun his head around, looking for either the source or the effect. Everything seemed to be intact from what he could see.
Was probably just the rain…?
Paul flicked on the radio to try and soothe his mind and what do you know? Eleanor Rigby was playing.
Aaah look at all the lonely people… Aaah look at all the lonely people…
Something fitting his mood.
After using the same lifeless road for what seemed like forever, Paul saw a light flickering out of the corner of his eye. He didn't know what it was, but he just wanted something-anything- to pop up. It wasn't like him to just randomly check out something, but he hadn't been acting like himself the whole day to begin with.
Eleanor Rigby, picks up the rice in the church where a wedding has been,
He drove towards it.
Lives in a dream.
He went as fast as he could for no apparent reason, and didn't even care if he was to run it over.
Fuck it, he thought. I as good as dead anyway.
Waits at the window, wearing a face that she keeps in a jar by the door,
The car started to uneasily wobble and before he knew it, it lopsided at a wicked angle.
"What the f-"
Who is it for?
The door flung open and Paul was violently thrown out, his forehead scraping the asphalt. He could tell he was heavily bleeding.
Shit…
All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
Remain conscious. Remain conscious. It was only a matter of time before he would pass out. The light seemed to loom bigger, and eventually a man was standing right in front of him, shining the pale light on Paul's face.
"H-help…" was the only thing he could manage.
All the lonely people, where do they all belong? Although out of the car, his very own voice still made its way to his ears, as if taunting himself.
Instead of hurriedly scampering for the nearest first aid equipment or bringing the poor Beatle to the nearest possible hospital, the man laughed.
He laughed.
Father McKenzie, writing the words to a sermon that no one will hear,
He kicked Paul in the face.
No one comes near.
Paul soon realized that this man wasn't his friend. He was trying to kill him.
"Look at you. People wish they were you," the man sourly growled. "It would be very unfortunate if someone were to…take it from you."
Paul didn't know if his injury was causing his mind to play tricks on him, but the voice sounded awfully familiar…
Look at him working, darning his socks in the night when there's nobody there,
No. No. NO. This couldn't be happening. The man hoisted Paul up, carrying his body on his shoulders, and started to walk away, the music faltering.
What does he care?
"N…plea…st…" His condition grew worse and he couldn't even finish his words. Poor him, being a member of the Bea- wait, what was its name again? The Beat Boys, the Beats, the…the Beetles…?
Paul's eyes widened. He couldn't remember.
All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
No, please, no! This can't be happening… okay, my name is Paul James-I mean James Paul Mc- McKenzie? McCarthy? I'm friends with a guy named Josh Lennard. I mean Jo…John! John Lennard?
All the lonely people, where do they all belong?
It wasn't long before Pete-Paul! – had to accept the truth. The horrible truth. Why couldn't he remember information he had lived with for as long as he could remember?
He could hear a water stream now rushing by his ears. The man now threw Paul on the ground again, his flowing dark brown hair skimming the lake.
"Y'know Paul, you always looked amazing with your doggone handsome looks and moptop hair. The Cute one, they would call you. Whatever happened to the wonders of fame? Didn't you spend your teen years trying to reach that point?"
Now the man was kneeling, once again flashing the torch's beam on Paul's face. Paul realized he hadn't seen what the other looked like…
"And four years ago you made it. And now you're just washed up like every other artist that struggled. It doesn't take half a brain cell to know the Beatles are falling apart anyway."
Paul didn't even care anymore about what he was saying. He was getting really sleepy and all he wanted to do was go to bed. But one last thing caught his attention.
In the blink of an eye the man grabbed Paul by the collar and shone the torch on his own face, and for a second Paul thought he was looking at a mirror.
"See you next time!"
The man kicked Paul and he fell in the lake, too weak to stay above water. Now Paul was all alone again, getting really drowsy.
Mmm the water sounds very calming…
He started to completely submerge, looking up as his blood decoratively mixed in with the glimmering blue water. And as he closed his eyes, he sang to himself.
"All the lonely people…where do they all…come from?"
Sleep now…Goodnight dear Paulie…
"All…the lonely…people…where do…they all...belong…"