Okay, so I would just like to say thank you ALL for the wonderful reviews, not only for this past chapter but for all of them. They make my day, really they do. I would like to point out my favorite two reviews and address them, because I want to say something. HermioneLennon- Thank you! It's so ironic that you say that, because when I imagine the scenes for my stories, they come out like a play, or a movie. That's actually how I'm writing this one, because I saw the movie in my head and I liked it so much. Beatlesholic13- Haha, you made me laugh with the fiction thing, because it's so true! That's what I get for worrying so much. Also, DON'T ASSUME ANYTHING!!! I'm not saying that it's not Paul, then again I'm not saying it is. I don't know when I'll reveal to you who A.J. will fall in love with, but it won't be for a little while yet. After all, she JUST met the boys. And lastly (yes, that totally is a word), I never said Paul was a bad lyric writer. Or did I? Because I'm pretty sure I never did. It's just that in the process of creating "Yesterday", Paul could never find the right words to go along with his melody. It's not that he needed John for every song, just like John didn't need him for every song. Thank you so very much for your review, by the way, because it really made me think. Alright, now that I'm done with all of that talking, here's chapter eight!

"Sit down, A.J.," Paul ordered, standing in front of the couch where John was sitting. His arms were crossed and his usually playful features were set in a stern frown. When I didn't move from the doorway of Ringo's room (that was where I had been sleeping) Paul pointed stiffly at the sofa. "Now."

I shuffled my feet, and Paul clucked impatiently. When I finally plopped down next to John, I sighed. "What is it? I kinda had plans today."

Paul shook his head slowly. "Yes, we know. But you don't have to start getting ready for your date for another, oh," he glanced at his watch, "eight hours or so. So I think you can spare a little bit of time for us."

I rolled my eyes. "You obviously don't know what it's like to be a girl."

"I hope not," Ringo quipped from the corner where he and George were standing, wearing expressions similar to Paul's.

"Yes, well, anyways, I need to talk to you. To you both, actually," Paul continued, gesturing to me and John. John looked over at me, narrowing his eyes a bit. Of course, I wanted to say something nasty to him, but every time I tried to think of something there was a little voice in my head that screamed 'YOU CAN'T BE MEAN TO YOUR GRANDPA!!!'. I looked away from him quickly so I wouldn't have to answer his ugly look.

"Well?" John asked, looking back at Paul. "I haven't got all day."

"We just want to know something." He looked back at Ringo and George, who nodded in agreement. "Why do you two hate each so much? You barely know each other!"

We both just stared at him. Paul raised his eyebrows, still waiting for the answer that would never come, when George stepped forward.

"This is getting nowhere. How about this?" He looked over at me. "A.J., why do you dislike John?" He smiled gently at me.

"He's an asshole." I said simply, shrugging.

"See?! She doesn't even give me a chance!" John exclaimed. "She's just…she's MEAN to me!" He crossed his arms in a pout.

"Really, John? Really? I'm MEAN to you?" I turned to look at him. "Don't even get me started on that one!"

"See?!" He pointed wildly at me. "She's a fucking bitch on wheels!"

I scoffed at him, narrowing my eyes and shaking my head. "Oh, please, John. At least we can all predict my emotions. Yours are as freaking random as zebra!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he shot back. Paul started to back away from us, a scared look on his face. George and Ringo were still in their corner, but they were chuckling now.

"How the fuck should I know? Ever since you came back from the Cavern Club that one night, you've been acting like the whole fucking world has turned on you!" This, at least, was the truth. It had been about a week since the day that I had gone to the recording studio, and that was the night that John went out for some 'milk'. And when he came home he smelled of sweat, beer, and smoke, and the only thing he had with him was new attitude. A rather horrible attitude, actually. And he did NOT have my fucking milk.

John's face clouded over, and he lowered his eyes. There was no way he was going to give up that easily, though. At least, I didn't think so.

"Fine. You're right. I'm an asshole and I don't deserve to live. It's really great to know that everybody hates me." Then, before anybody could stop him, he stood up and strode out of the room, slamming the front door shut with a jerk of his wrist.

Paul winced at the sound, then slowly turned his head back to me. "Great. Now look what you've done."

Oh. Now that was harsh. "Hey! I didn't know that anything hap-"

"Yeah, I know. I'm just kidding." He sighed, taking John's seat on the couch next to me. Ringo and George stepped forward from their hiding place, pulling up chairs.

"So what happened then?" I had at least figured out that something bad had probably happened when he was at the club, but I didn't know what it was. I mean, it was John. The possibilities were endless.

All three of them exchanged a look. "He only told me 'cause he felt like trashing her. I don't think he would have said anything at all, though, if he weren't smashed." George examined his finger nails. I had noticed that he did this a lot.

"He still doesn't know that you and me know about her, A.J., so you can't say anything." Ringo looked me straight in the eyes, and I began to fidget a little bit. I didn't want to make it seem like I was looking at his eyes. Or even thinking about his eyes. But, God, they were pretty….

"Please, just go on," I pressed, guessing what this was about but wanting him to tell me before I said anything.

"I don't want this to make you think of him as less," George murmured. We exchanged a quick glance, and I knew exactly what he was talking about. He didn't want to be telling me bad thing about John because he was my grandfather. But that is SO stupid, because I don't really think of him like that. He's not some old man or something.

Paul snorted. "Please, Georgie. She already thinks of him as less. More than less, I would say. Eh, A.J.?" I smiled along with him, but I didn't say anything. Paul had no idea.

"Is this about Maggie Mae?" I asked, tired of waiting for them to say her name.

Paul and George exchanged a look. "Yeah…John saw her at the Cavern Club. Apparently Jeanie escaped again." All four of us smiled at the exact same moment. She really was an endearing little girl. "Apparently it didn't go so well."

That's hard to imagine, I though sarcastically. "Poor Maggie Mae."

Paul sighed, shaking his head. "A.J., I don't think you understand. John is not the bad guy here."

I felt George's eyes on me, but I really couldn't look at him. "How is it Maggie's fault?"

"She cheated on him!" Paul exploded. "This is exactly what I'm talking about. I don't know what he does in the future that makes him so God-awful, but he's not a bad guy."

I stared blankly at him. "I want to tell you so much, Paul. I honestly do." Did those words seriously just come out my mouth? What was wrong with me? Where the hell did my self-control go?

George nudged me sharply, and I cringed. I still didn't look at him, though, determined not to give him the satisfaction.

Paul hesitated. "Okay, that doesn't sound so good, but whatever. I don't blame John one bit for the way he's acting."

"So you admit he's being an asshole."

"Yes! And he was every right to be one!"

"No one has that right. Not even John Lennon."

George interrupted our bickering. "A.J., I don't think you're remembering one part of the story. It's the same on whichever side you look at it from."

I frowned, recalling both stories they had told me. "What are you talking about?"

"John loved her. He really, really loved her. And she broke his heart." These words sent chills down my spine. John Lennon had been in love with my grandmother. My tiny, feisty Irish grandma. Somehow, hearing that made it all the more real to me. Almost too real.

I didn't know what to say. What could you say to that? All of a sudden, I felt a sudden wave of sympathy wash over me.

"He's still broken from it, and it's been years. There have been other girls, of course. But no one will ever measure up to Maggie for him. Or measure down. Whichever way you wanna look at it."

I wanted to cry. Seriously. I don't actually know why. I mean, I've always been a hopeless romantic, but that was pathetic. "I don't…I don't know what to say." I couldn't imagine living with a broken heart, let alone knowing that it would never be mended for as long as I lived. That was some depressing shit right there.

"Ah, I knew you had a heart." Paul smiled at me, though his eyes were still sad. He stood up. "We better shove off and look for the poor bastard. Don't want him drinking his troubles away this early." He started off to the front door, but no one followed him. I was still lost in my thoughts, and I bet the other two were, too.

"Anybody gonna get off their lazy arse and come with me?" he asked the room in general. Slowly, George rose from his chair, making his way to Paul in a dreamlike state.

"I'm gonna stay here," Ringo mumbled. "I don't think we should leave this one alone just yet." He bopped the top of my head. I rolled my eyes.

Paul shrugged. "Suit yourself." And then they were gone.

Ringo turned to me immediately. "So tell me, A.J."

My heart stopped for a second. Shit! Was it that obvious? Could everybody tell that I knew a little bit more about the Maggie Mae situation than I was letting on? "Tell you what?"

"What's going on with you and George?"

I was confused for a second. George? There was something going on with us? I wasn't aware of this. "I seriously have no idea what you're talking about."

Ringo chuckled. "Sure. I saw the looks you two were giving each other this entire time! I won't tell."

What? Ew, no! I don't think of George that way! Okay, so I did BEFORE I met him, but now? That's so weird! It would be like...dating my brother. "No, no! That was something else!"

He smiled wisely. "Oh, something ELSE?" He waggled his eyebrows.

"EW! Stop it! That's so weird!" I giggled, swatting his arm playfully. "Besides, you know I'm with Chuck now."

Ringo's eyes narrowed. "That guy is a bastard. I don't know what you see in him."

I laughed brightly. "He's kinda a badass. I like that." In truth, I didn't really know too much about Chuck O 'Laughlin. It wasn't that weird of a story, actually. The boys had dragged me along to a bar two nights ago, even though I insisted that I didn't drink. I had been sitting there, minding my own business, when I saw him. He was a big guy, probably 6'1'' or 6'2'', and he was sitting by himself drinking a beer. I told Ringo that I would be right back, then went over and sat next to him. We had talked for a while, then danced for even longer. Really, he was just some random guy, but when he asked me out (which was where I was going tonight) I had said yes. So that was that.

Ringo shook his head. "You don't know him."

"No, but who cares. I'm not gonna marry him or anything. God, I probably won't even be here tomorrow."

"You say that every day," he pointed out. I shrugged nonchalantly.

"That's because it is most likely true. We just have to track down Pa- Doctor Robert, I mean, and then I'm as good as gone." I leaned back into the couch cushions, closing my eyes.

"Why do you want to leave so badly? Are we really that horrible?" I almost laughed out loud at that one, but I heard the hurt in his voice and stopped myself.

"You guys aren't horrible at all. Actually, this has been kinda surreal for me. It's just…it's just that this isn't my real life. And I have to get back to living it soon." I muttered.

"Yeah…I think I know what you mean. But I'll still be sad when you go. You're entertaining. And you don't make me feel as short."

We chortled, but then fell silent. Once again, all the things that we didn't want to say aloud flowed between us, and I felt peaceful. He would miss me if I left tomorrow, I could tell that. And to know that I had left an imprint of myself in at least one of the Fab Four was more meaningful than anything else I had ever done…so far.

Okay, this chapter is all about foreshadowing. PLEASE tell me someone has been getting the hints I've been dropping. And sorry for the profanity, I'm kinda a potty mouth in real life, so it kinda just got transferred to my character. Anyways, John is upset again (*sigh* silly John) but at least now he has a reason. Maybe some of you didn't think it was a very good reason, but I sure thought it was. In my opinion, there is nothing worse than heartbreak. I could go into that, but I won't purely for your benefit. Thanks so much to everybody who has reviewed…could you do it again?