Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize from the Beatles or ATU.

A/N: It was interesting hearing everyone's favorite songs. I have many favorites, but Revolution has always been at the top of my list.

This chapter sets up a new part of the plot, so hopefully it'll be exciting for everyone. I'm looking forward to it…

Enjoy, and please review, especially if you have any suggestions! Thanks!

The sound of an acoustic guitar filled the living area of Sadie and JoJo's apartment as Lizzy watched, astonished. JoJo's hands moved quickly, stringing together beautiful chords and rhythms, creating a song only he knew. She marveled at how swiftly his fingers glided along the neck of the guitar, forming complex notes without making any mistakes. She wondered if she'd ever learn to do such a thing. She doubted it, knowing that no one could be more skilled with a guitar than JoJo.

Watching him play was a spectacle to behold. He was completely focused, drowning out everything around him so that he seemed to be alone with his beloved instrument. Lizzy could easily compare it to the environment she and her father created for themselves while they were working on their art. JoJo had an intense expression of passion on his face, bobbing his head up and down in time with the music he shaped and molded into a song purely from his heart. Just as Lizzy used pencils or paint or charcoals as her mediums of expression, JoJo chose his guitar to do the same. It was like Lizzy was witnessing the musician tell her about his memories or feelings; the tempo or rhythms were used either to express sadness or joy, pain or triumph.

She hadn't really known all that much about the slightly mysterious musician before her weekly lessons with him. She knew that he was an amazing guitarist, and a kind, gracious man with a huge soft spot for Sadie and his children. Now, she knew that they were the same on at least some sort of level. Both were artists with different mediums of expression, and she felt proud to have that connection to him like a couple of her other family members.

JoJo ended the intricate song with a beautiful chord that hung in the air several seconds after the strings had been struck with a swipe of his hand. Lizzy only stared, open-mouthed, then glanced down at the acoustic that was sitting in her lap. It was a second-hand guitar that JoJo had purchased for her before the start of her lessons. Looking at it now, and her own fingers lying on the strings, she felt inadequate. She was okay for a beginner, but she wasn't catching on as quickly as she'd originally hoped.

JoJo laughed, strumming the strings absentmindedly. Eleanor, who'd been listening from the couch, clapped lightly. She smirked at Lizzy. "It's all right, Lizzy," she reassured the stunned teenager, "You'll pick it up eventually."

"Easier said than done." the eighteen-year-old argued, although smiling.

"I think that's enough for today," JoJo said, chuckling again. He placed the guitar to the side so it was leaning against the back of the couch. "Just practice that new chord I taught you for next time, okay, Liz?"

"Yep," Lizzy replied. She knelt down on the floor to set the guitar into its worn-out case. Once she snapped the locks shut, she stood, picking up the case with her right hand. Almost instantaneously, it made her feel quite lopsided. She picked up her bag full of clothes and other assorted belongings--she and Michelle had had a sleepover with Eleanor last night--to even out the weight. "Thanks, JoJo."

"No problem."

Lizzy walked back to the apartment she shared with her parents, and was surprised to see that her mother was waiting eagerly for her when she stepped through the door. As she was putting the guitar and her bag away, Lucy approached her daughter with an envelope in her hand.

"A letter came in the mail for you yesterday…" she said in a singsong voice, brandishing the envelope and smiling brightly. Lizzy took it, and examining the front, immediately recognized Paul's handwriting.

"Thanks."

She ripped open the envelope, plopping down onto the couch. Her heart racing excitedly in her chest, she unfolded the piece of notebook paper that had been placed inside, and read Paul's latest letter.

Miss Lizzy,

Everything's fine here. The weather's been really warm, which is good. I took a trip down to the beach last week…but it wasn't the same without you…

My mom started a new job; she got sick of being a waitress, plus the pay was shit so now she's working as a secretary at some local business…I forgot the name. She's actually been hanging out a lot with Mrs. Harrison, which is a little weird to get used to, especially because they're being all buddy-buddy with each other. Ah, well…it's a nice change, I guess.

I got a job, too, at that fancy-looking restaurant down the street from The Glass Onion. I'm busing tables for now but it's something, right? A job's a job.

Glad to here that life in NYC is good. I have to admit that I'm sort of jealous JoJo is giving you guitar lessons…

Thanks for the drawing, by the way. It's hanging up on the wall in my room, next to all the others. Did you draw that from memory? I don't remember taking pictures on the beach, so you must've. It's pretty cool that you got that photographic memory working for you.

I miss you, too…a lot.

Your best friend for life,

Paul

Lizzy discarded the envelope and re-folded the letter, tucking it carefully into her pocket. She told Lucy she was going to the art studio to do some work, to which Lucy informed her that Jude was working as well. She walked down the hall, following the music that was coming from the studio. Entering the room, she saw that Jude was standing in front of a large, half-finished painting--one that Lizzy couldn't quite figure out; sometimes, she found herself confused by her father's artwork--with his head tilted to the side. His clothes were stained with various colors of paint, some of the splotches were old, while others were fresh. He was barefoot, with cans and tubes of paint surrounding him, among several different sized brushes.

"'ello, Lizzy," he greeted, not taking his eyes off the canvas, "How was yer sleepover with the girls?"

"Fun."

"And yer lesson with Jo?"

"Overwhelming."

Jude laughed. "You'll get the hang of it. Learning a new skill takes time and practice," he stated. "and patience." He added, as an afterthought. Lizzy groaned inwardly, knowing that patience was not really one of her stronger qualities.

She let her father get back to work, and settled into her own space. Several minutes later, Lizzy was hunched over her desk, scribbling furiously at an almost completed penciled drawing (one she'd done a few days earlier) with an eraser. With a sweep of her hand, she sent the pinkish-gray eraser shavings tumbling to the hardwood floor beneath the desk, off the now slightly wrinkled sheet of paper. She groaned, chin in one palm, twirling the pencil with her other hand. This particular drawing had given her a lot of trouble when she'd first started it--there had been solid proof of that, from the pile of paper that had been crumpled into wads and thrown haphazardly onto the floor by her feet that day. She'd started on her fifteenth sheet when Jude told her it was wise not to waste all of the expensive art paper.

The teen lifted her gaze from her now blank paper and stared out the window, looking at the view of the city. She let herself get lost in the sights, and the sound of music filling her ears from one of Jude's records that had been playing in the background. The record was from the sixties; some psychedelic rock band whose name Lizzy couldn't immediately recall. Lizzy put the pencil down and re-read the letter from Paul, trying to imagine his voice saying the words he had written. She hoped it would help with the drawing…

The teenager tried her hardest to picture her best friend in her mind's eye. She turned back to her attempt at drawing, and began to pencil in the lines again, trying to outline the familiar face she now saw in her head. Being the perfectionist artist that she was, Lizzy wasn't particularly happy with the outcome. It didn't do justice to the real thing--not even close. Usually, she had no problem with sketching from memory, but now she was having a lot of difficulty. With a sigh, she threw a cautious glance in Jude's direction, then crumpled the paper into a ball and let it drop to the floor. Quietly, she pulled out another sheet, vowing that it would be the last she used on this drawing. She wanted to get it right this time.

Lizzy stared at the blank sheet, inspiration running low. She knew that no matter what she did, nothing would be good enough. Every time she pictured Paul's face, he always appeared to be sad. And she couldn't help but feel responsible for his sadness. He'd sounded slightly depressed in his letter--two phrases continued to stick out in Lizzy's mind:

…I took a trip down to the beach last week…but it wasn't the same without you…

…I miss you, too…a lot.

Jude paused from painting to glance over at his daughter, who had a frown plastered on her face.

"What's the matter, love?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not feeling the creativity," the teen mumbled. It was sort of a lie, but she didn't want to alert him to Paul's problems. "Nothing's turning out the way I want it to."

Jude shrugged, knowing he couldn't exactly help his daughter out. He'd been in similar situations countless times, and from experience, he was aware that it sometimes took weeks for creativity to strike. "It happens."

"It's annoying." Lizzy grumbled.

Lizzy, too, was fully aware that Jude couldn't assist her in her lack of inspiration. She just had to, unfortunately, wait for her muse to come back. But who knew how long that would take?

The teenager stared off into space again, letting her thoughts wander, drowning out her surroundings. She was in the midst of a daydream, imagining herself walking along a familiar beach, her toes in the warm sand, her fingers interlaced with Paul's…

A scene that was abruptly ended when Lizzy felt something cold and slightly sticky dripping down her back. Quickly, she turned around to find out what had happened to cause such a strange sensation, and discovered she had blue paint on her back. Raising an eyebrow, she looked at Jude, who held a brush covered in paint that was the same exact shade of blue. He was trying his hardest to contain his laughter, but he wasn't doing a very great job.

Lizzy didn't know whether she should've been angry or extremely amused by this.

"What the…?" she asked at last, her voice trailing off.

Jude could no longer hold in his laughter. Lizzy glared playfully, her bright blue eyes narrowed.

"You're so lucky I don't care about these clothes."

"Threatening me, are you?" Jude taunted, a grin on his face. Lizzy smirked, picking up a brush. Swiftly, got up from the desk and dipped it into a can of green paint that was opened and lying on the floor near her father.

"Hey, you started it," she countered. "so I'm gonna finish it. It's only fair."

"Is that right?"

"Yep."

With that, Lizzy flung as much green paint at Jude as she could possibly get off the brush. It plastered the front of his shirt, and splattered on his face. This, in turn, started a paint war between the father-daughter pair. Jude and Lizzy threw varying colors of paint at each other (as well as many taunts and teasing comments) while they dashed around the studio trying to dodge each other's attacks. It was a good thing Jude and Lizzy had put away most of their artwork; otherwise, they would've been completely ruined. Speaking of which, their clothes were mostly covered in paint once ten minutes had passed. It was also on their faces in their hair--a mess that would be difficult to get out. Neither cared about such consequences. For the moment, they were having fun, and Lizzy's creative block was momentarily forgotten.

Paint coated the floor under their feet, and there were new splotches of it on the walls. Lizzy had kicked off her shoes, so now she and Jude were both barefoot--and sliding all over the place. The teenager slid into her father and tried to wrestle his paintbrush out of his hand, but that only caused paint to splash onto both of them the more they fought over it.

It was only a matter of time before one of them went down.

Jude fell first, slipping on the paint as he was trying to duck out of the way of the paint hurling toward him. He landed with a grunt on his back, his paintbrush clattering to the floor a foot away. Lizzy burst out laughing, peering down at her father's form sprawled out on the ground.

"You…okay?" she asked in between laughs.

"Ya think this is funny, do you?"

Lizzy nodded.

"We'll see if you're laughing after I drag you down with me…" Jude said dangerously, yet with a smirk on his face. The look of horror on Lizzy's features was absolutely priceless.

"What?" she asked, as if Jude's words weren't making sense fast enough. Jude grabbed her ankle, and that's when the threat finally sunk in. "No!"

But it was too late. Lizzy lost her balance and landed on top of Jude, belly-first. His plan back-fired on him, though, when his daughter collided with him, causing another painful grunt to escape his lips.

"Not feeling so smart now, are ya, Mr. Feeny?" Lizzy teased. She rolled off him, and decided to lay on her back. The paint under her squished and soaked her clothes even more.

"That was…interesting." Jude said.

"It was fun," Lizzy pressed her fingers into the paint, feeling it squish in between her fingers like a child. "Totally unproductive and a huge waste of paint, but fun."

"Yeah." Jude sighed.

"But…I think we destroyed your painting." Lizzy nodded her head in the direction of the easel he had been working at earlier.

Jude shrugged indifferently. "I didn' like it much, anyway."

Suddenly, the door to the art studio flung open and Lucy stood in the doorway, holding something in her hands. She stopped short once she saw the gigantic mess and her husband and daughter lying on the floor covered in a rainbow of paint. Lucy shifted the large envelope she had been holding in both of her hands to her left hand. She placed her right hand on her hip and shook her head.

"I'm not even going to ask."

Lucy didn't know if she could ever understand the minds of artists…

Jude pulled himself up off the floor and helped his daughter to her feet. Lucy cautiously took a few steps into the room, being especially careful of the large amount of paint that had been spilled on the floor. How they were going to clean that up, she didn't have the slightest idea…

"Come 'ere, love." Jude said, grinning mischievously. He proceeded to approach his wife, attempting to wrap his arms around her. Although she protested and tried to push him away, Lucy didn't succeed.

"Jude!" She scolded, half-laughing, "Jude! Don't!" She held the large envelope above her head, desperate not to get anything on it as Jude pulled her into a tight hug. When she tore herself away from him, the front of her clothes were covered in a thin layer of paint. "Jude Feeny…" Lucy glared at her husband, prepared to go on a tirade about how her clothes were probably ruined now. He only gave her an innocent look. He smiled that favorite smile of hers--the one that made her absolutely melt--and she found that she couldn't stay mad at him for very long.

"You were saying?" Jude asked, tugging her closer again.

Lizzy giggled.

Lucy pressed herself even closer to Jude, her lips meeting his. They broke the kiss a moment or two later, both of them breathless.

Jude smirked. "That's what I thought."

"What's in the envelope?" Lizzy inquired, hating to break up the cute moment between her parents. But her curiosity was getting the best of her.

"Mail from your grandmother across the Pond." Lucy declared. Jude raised an eyebrow, then he remembered what it was. So did Lizzy, whose eyes immediately grew wide with excitement. Lucy handed the envelope over to her daughter, and she tore it open in a frenzy. Peeking inside, she saw what appeared to be plane tickets--tickets to Liverpool, to visit Jude's mother. Also inside was a note from Martha, which Lizzy removed from the envelope to read, relaying the information to her parents.

"We better get packing," the teenager said cheerfully, "We leave the second week of July." It was the end of June, so that gave them a short amount of time to get ready, but they could pull it off. Lizzy's excitement outshined her thoughts about all they had to do before they left. She couldn't believe she was actually going to Liverpool…

A/N: Please review! It's appreciated, as always!