Okay, so today I was VERY bored (yes, already) and I was moping around the house complaining, complaining, complaining. And finally, I guess because she was sick and tired of me, my sister yells at me, saying, "Why don't you WRITE? You are ALWAYS on that stupid laptop!" And I just sorta sit there for a minute, not comprehending this. Write? Ooooooh yeah! I do that sometimes! So that was why I decided to update today. Not because I had to, but because I was suffering from extreme boredom. So! Now that you know some pointless knowledge, I guess I'll do a quick recap. Let's see…so, A.J. just told the boys just about every bad thing that will happen to them, and then she freaks out and runs out of the house, only to be followed by PAUL, who says some UBER sweet things to her and becomes (drumroll please) heeeeeeeeeeeeer bestie! Yay! So, anyways, here's chapter thirteen!
Disclaimer: Yes, I fucking know that I NEVER put in a disclaimer. But I guess I probably should…whatever. I'm doing it now so that I never have to do this again. What kinda bullshit is that? Who the FUCK thinks I own the Beatles? If you do, I'm sorry, but you seriously need to lay off the LSD. That's ridiculous. I mean, if I owned the Beatles, I would be very old, super rich, PROBABLY married to Paul McCartney, and totally not wasting my time writing silly stories about them. So…anyways…what was I saying? Oh, yeah…something about a disclaimer. Um…now what? I guess I'm done. Wow, I kinda ranted up there. Sorry. I guess I'll give you a George since you actually read that . :^) (p.s. that smiley's name is George…because he looks like George.) I'm sorry I swear so much. I'm not going to make any excuses, I'm just a potty mouth.
Oh! And just a real quick mention right here. Sweeneysbestfriend, I have a surprise for you! Can I just say, she has given me some AMAZING ideas. Yeah, Ringo punching Chuck? Sweeney. Thanks soooooo much!
John wasn't talking to me.
And I, for one, thought that was pretty damn immature of him. I mean, it wasn't like I had personally sought him out for torture! I was trying to HELP the bastard, but nooooo. God. That was SO annoying. And Ringo was not mad at ALL, instead just asking question every five seconds (which was making my heart speed up to an almost unsafe pace. No, really, it was quite terrifying.). And Paul was being as cool as ever about it all. And George…well, okay, George was sulking a bit. But he was the Quiet One. He did that sometimes. I knew he would get over it! The only thing that worried me that was instead of NOT smoking, he was smoking even more. And that had to be stopped. So, three days after the big freaking out scene, I approached him.
We were in the Cavern Club, him surrounded by a girls and hardly smiling. I mean, HE was hardly smiling. The girl were flipping their shit. But, anyways, I strode over to him, tapped on his shoulder, and pulled him aside without saying a thing. The girls watched us, looking at me like they'd like nothing more than to rip my head off. Biiiitch please. I'd like to see them try.
"George-" I began, but he immediately cut me off.
"I'm putting it out, you don't have to keep bitchin' at me!" He looked away, snubbing the burning ember of his ciggy. That little jerk! He wasn't even going to acknowledge the fact that I was trying to save his life!
"Well, sor-ry Mr. Cranky Butt, I wasn't aware that you didn't take your Bitch Pills today." I smirked at him. Swatting away his absentminded attempt to take another cigarette from the box hanging out of his pocket.
"Why are you so mean? Like, honestly. I want a real answer." He turned to stare me straight in the eye.
"I was only kidding, George." I punched his shoulder meekly, but he just continued to look at me. He was going to kill me with those eyes, I swear he was.
"Just answer the damned question."
I rolled my eyes. "I don't know! I…I must get it from my grandfather," I snapped, thinking this was the only good thing to say in this situation.
I thought wrong.
"You know, I REALLY regret telling you that. Because then you're just gonna go over there and tell your new buddy Paul, or your boyfriend Ringo. Christ!" He shook his head in disgust.
Okay, I am SUCH a girl. Because after all that, the only thing I could think of was the fact that he knew I had a crush on Ringo. "Ringo is NOT my boyfriend."
"Well, you WISH he was." He glared at me smugly.
"I…I…STOP ACTING LIKE JOHN!" I screeched, and everybody in the house must have heard. My face was a brilliant scarlet, and I just wanted the blush to go away.
"I'm not."
"Yes, you are. And it's pissing me off."
"Am not!"
"Are, too!"
"No!"
"Yes!"
He glowered at me. And here's me, thinking that George was always the sweet, shy, quiet one. And can I tell you something? Just because he didn't raise his voice does NOT mean that he was quiet, or shy, or even sweet. But I knew this angry George wasn't the real George. MY George. (Okay, so not really mine…but my BROTHER George.) And all's I wanted was to have MY George back.
"Why are you acting like this? I'm only trying to help you!" I didn't know where to look, so I just chose his forehead. That way he knew I was looking at him, but he couldn't murder me with those deep brown eyes.
"What do you want me to do? Get down on my fucking knees and tell you how grateful I am? How grateful I am that you told me that I was going to DIE before my family, my mates, basically everyone? I will NOT do that." He turned his nose up at me. That hurt. That REALLY hurt. Because, truth be told, I DID love George. Just as much as I loved Paul. And now he was practically telling me that he hated me.
"No. I don't want that. I want you to take what I've said in stride and then be yourself again. I miss you!" I bit my lip, staring up at him hopefully.
"I can't be me again. So you can leave me alone." And without another word he left me, standing alone, and went back to his girls. They smirked at me, then cooed and giggled when George re-entered their circle. Girls were such bitches.
Well, George was gonna be a lost cause for a little while. That was a depressing thought. So, I sucked it up and moved on to my next target: John. I found him sitting by himself (surprisingly) and sipping at an unidentified drink. I was almost afraid to ask what it was.
"What's up, Johnny?"
He looked up slowly, then scowled when he saw it was me. He didn't say a word, however, and dropped his eyes back down to the bar top. I slid into the stool next to him.
"C'mon! You're not even going to say ANYTHING about me calling you Johnny?" He stared resolutely at the bar. "Nothing?" Nope. Nada. "Okay, then."
I stopped talking, just staring at him. I knew he hated that. I had tested several things, always trying to mad, and I came up with a top three. Number three was calling him Johnny. The only people that EVER called him that were the bar-sluts and Aunt Mimi. Number two was staring. That was becoming a fail, however, as he was still staring hard at counter. His eyes were starting to glaze over. And number one…well, let's just say that was my favorite.
"Don't make me do it, John. Because I totally will." He didn't look at me still. Oh, was he going to regret that. I sighed, standing up and pulling my stool away from the bar a bit. Gingerly, I placed one foot on the seat, then hoisted my entire body up onto it with the next foot. John looked up at me in slow-motion, a look of utter horror seeping onto his features. "Last chance," I told him. But he said nothing.
Let me just say, shoving back some of what John dishes out is PURE delight. No, really, it is. Not only is it self-satisfying, but a LOT of other people admire you once you're done. Let me explain.
So, a couple of weeks ago, I was sitting in my 'room' and reading. Then, I hear Paul and John walk into the living room. Here's the thing about my 'room's location; you hear a LOT of shit. So, I was expecting to hear something worth teasing Paulie about. I say Paul because John almost NEVER said anything in the living room. Even when my 'wall' was open, he still thought I was listening. Which sounds a LOT like he was paranoid, but in truth he had good reasoning. I was ALWAYS looking for something to comeback at him with.
So, anyways, the two of them are talking and I freeze, not making any noise at all. I hear John say, "Wait! Make sure A.J.'s not in there…"
Paul, always the impatient one, says, "She told me earlier that she was going to go TP Chuck's house with Ringo and George. She's not in there." Okay, so yes, I DID say that. And okay, yes, I did DO that. But Chuck was still pissed, so I would never admit to such things.
"Just listen for a second," John insisted, and for a moment I thought they might have heard the insane pounding of my heart. This was going to be good…
"I'm telling you, she's NOT in there!" Paul returned after a moment's silence. Thank God, they didn't hear me.
"Fine…" I heard John's intake of breath. "Never does this leave me and you, okay? It would kill me." OH, MY GOD THIS WAS GOING TO BE SO GOOD!
I heard nothing, so Paul must have nodded or something. There was another pause, and I considered barging out of my 'room' and pinning John down and FORCING him to spill. But it turned out that wouldn't have been necessary.
"Okay, so you know Pam? The girl that hates George now?" They both chuckled. That girl was as weird as they get. Polythene Pam. Oh, God.
"Ha, yeah, what about her?"
Butterflies tickled my stomach in anticipation. "Well…" John said slowly, "we…"
"You…?"
He cleared his throat. I still didn't get it. They what…?
OH, MY GOD!
"NO!" Paul cried. And if he hadn't been so loud at that moment, they surely would have heard my own outburst. That was…okay, that just disgusting. Even for John.
"Yeah. Last night. I mean, she's actually not that bad…"
"Yeah, when you're falling down drunk!" Paul exclaimed, only to be shushed by John.
"Quiet! I don't want Her to hear you!"
"Pam? Why not?" His voice was layered with confusion.
"No! A.J.!"
Paul snorted, but I heard no further noises from John. I was trying SO hard not to fall off the bed from laughter, but my want for further details kept me silent.
"That's pretty bad, mate." Paul muttered. Um, YEAH! That was worse than bad…that was God damned horrible!
"I'm not done." John's voice lowered conspicuously. "It's worse."
"How the hell could it get worse?" Paul wanted to know. I could almost hear the look of terror that was on his face.
"I…I…I…I liked it, okay?" This was a total OMG moment. John liked Polythene Pam!
"John that's…I don't know what to say." Paul sounded like he was utterly lost for words.
"Don't tell anyone."
And this, my friends, was the perfect time for me to start laughing. And so I did. It came out suddenly, like a cough, and I thought THAT was even funnier. And then I was quite literally rolling on the floor laughing. I think I might have pulled a muscle. Because really? That was quite hilarious. Then John ripped back my wall, and the look on his face made me laugh even HARDER.
"John…loves…Pam…" I gasped, clutching my stomach. I was still cackling madly at the whole situation.
"Shut up! Paul, she was here!" He sounded miserable, and that was even FUNNIER.
So then I picked myself up from the ground and took a couple of deep breaths. "Hey, Paul," I whispered, still struggling for breath. John stood frozen, looking like he wanted to kill me. "Do you want to know a secret?" I asked in a sing song voice.
"Um, sure?" Paul looked quite amused, too, but I think he was desperately trying to hold on to his composure.
"Do you promise not to tell?" I sang, even louder. John's face was bright red, but even the heat there couldn't melt his feet from the ground.
Paul snorted again, and started to play along. "Yup."
"Closer," I beckoned towards him, "let me whisper in your ear." I was not all that great of a singer, but nothing embarrassing, and I was full out singing the song that John wrote, but George sung.
And on it went from there, until John was dark, dark crimson and finally he reached out and bopped me in the back of the head. And then we commenced to fight until I realized it was a lost cause as he was more than a half a foot taller than me. And then I ran.
So when I stood up on that stool, John MUST have been expecting what was coming. Or he was fucking stupid, because why else would I stand up on a chair in a bar? Seriously.
"LISTEN!" I screamed suddenly, and John's face turned the whitest shade I had ever seen it. Still he made no move to yell at me or knock me down. "DO YOU WANT TO KNOW A SECRET?" Most everybody turned to look at the little girl who was making a complete fool herself. Yeah, I knew it, but it would be worth it.
The only one in the Club that seemed to realize what was going on was Paul. "YEAH!" he shouted back to me. A few people in the place snickered, and John abruptly turned from white to pink. Still he determinedly ignored me.
"DO YOU PROMISE NOT TO TELL, WOH, WOH, WOH," I sang at the top of my lungs. The coloring of John's face was truly amusing.
I received a chorus of 'YEAH!'s. "CLOSER! LET ME WHIPER IN YOUR EAR!" I crooned, waggling my finger at them. "I'LL THE SAY THE WORDS YOU LONG TO HEAR!"
Paul was in the corner, laughing his ass off, and George was even smiling a bit at my imitation of him. Of course, he looked away as soon as I glanced at him. "JOHN'S IN LOVE WITH PAM, OOOHH!"
There was a sudden burst of giggles, followed by more, and then they were chanting my name. I heard the sudden squeal of metal against hardwood as John pushed away from the bar, then the shouts of protests as he reached his hands up and pulled me down from my standing spot. "Shut the FUCK up, A.J.!"
"Oh, John, you're talking to me again! Whatever changed your mind?" I batted my eyelashes innocently. I saw his eyes flash, and for a second I was almost scared. But then I thought better of it.
"You're lucky that the other lads are here, because otherwise I would have knocked you out by now." He scowled at me, some random guy elbowing him as he passed and smirking.
"Oh, you're such a nice guy, John."
He grunted. "Now WHAT is it that you wanted to tell me so badly?" He was staring me down, and it was starting to freak me out. He had weird eyes. Then I was reminded that I had the same exact ones, only blue.
"Ummm…" In truth, there was nothing that I really had to say. I just missed bickering with him. So then I had to use my infamous Quick Thinking. Let me just say, there was not a whole lot of actual thinking involved in Quick Thinking. It was more just blurting the first thing that came to mind. "What's a bint?"
John choked on the mouthful of alcohol he had been swallowing. He coughed for a second, then looked at me incrediculously. "What?"
"What. Is. A. Bint?" I repeated, still staring at him. Why was I asking that? Where had I heard that before? Ohhh, that's what he called me that first night! He called me 'bloody bint' and I had been all offended though I still to this day had no idea what that was.
He frowned, as if asking if I was serious. Apparently I was, because he answered me. "A bint is a bad name for a bird." He seemed to rethink this. "A bad name for a TRASHY bird."
Oh. OH! "Hey! You called me that!"
He snickered. Good, I got him laughing. "Well, before you I had never seen a bird dressed so."
I cringed at one particular word in the sentence. "And why do you keep calling girls 'birds'? We're human beings, not animals." I narrowed my eyes at him.
"Barely human beings," he corrected me.
"Um, excuse me?" When he just looked at me, I went on. "You are such a…a…PIG!" Why did I even want to talk to him in the first place? What was the point? He was NEVER going to change!
"Really? Well why do you keep calling me a 'pig'? I'm a human being, not an animal." He threw my previous words right back into my face. Shit. I had set myself up for that one.
"Oh, you're a human being?" I retorted. "That's funny, because you LOOK like an animal to me!"
His mouth twisted into a sneer. "I know you are but what am I?"
"John, I swear to God, we are NOT starting this. You act like you're five." I rolled my eyes aggressively.
"I'm rubber, you're glue, whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you!"
"JOHN!"
"What?"
"Are you a donkey's butt?"
"Er, no…"
"Then why are you acting like such an ASSHOLE!"
Ringo pushed through the crowd, trying to find a familiar face. He found Paul, sitting in a corner and chatting up three different girls at the same time. "Hey, I'm taking off, okay?"
Paul looked over at him, something different in his eyes. Then that was gone, and the casualness was back. "Alright. I'll tell the lads and A.J." Was it just him, or did Paul put a little bit of stress on A.J.? He glanced over at the girl. She was fighting with John.
"Hey, look, John and A.J. are going at it again." He smiled.
Paul followed his gaze, then chuckled lightly. "Ha. Yeah. Looks like everything in the world is normal again."
I don't care what John says, I won that fight.
Aw, I liked this chapter! Anyways, I'm gonna be gone for a week. And where I'm going involves some heavy car trips, so I'll probably get a LOT of writing done. So expect an update as soon as I get back! And, by the way guys, thank you SO much for supporting me. You've really made this story all the more fun to write. And oh! I closed my poll a while ago, but if you didn't see George won! Haha, yeah, but by now that doesn't mean anything. And it's kinda funny, because Ringo came in last! And I don't know why people would vote for John if he's her grandfather…but whatever! Some people are sick minded…and that's weird. But if that's your thing more power to ya…or not. Alright, so I'm done talking, and thanks again for everything! Review, bitches. Or if you don't like that, review, people. I, personally, like bitches better. BYE!