Find My Way (A Paul McCartney Fanfiction)

(2)

"Oh no, oh no," I chanted between fitful gasps of air as I bent down to shake Paul. "I shouldn't have told him about the year so soon! Why am I so stupid?"

Wait a minute.

I'm actually upset with myself for telling the 1963 version of Paul McCartney that he's in 2022?

It doesn't make logical sense! He simply cannot be the actual Paul McCartney, right?

Wrong.

Deep down, I just couldn't deny the deep deep feeling that he truly was Macca. I mean, as weird and illogical as it was, I always had pondered at the idea of the supernatural, so perhaps now was my front roll seat to witness it.

Everything would be okay.

Exhaling a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding, I put my hands beneath Paul's arms whilst muttering, "There's no reason you can't be comfortable. Let's get you onto the couch, then."

With a final grunt of effort even though he was reasonably light, I got Paul's limp body on the couch. I stood watching his pale face and small frame for a moment, simply marveling at his unique features, before I realized that I needed to text my boss to explain that I wouldn't be making it to work. Quickly enough, I'd messaged him, and was now back to watching Paul again, who somehow looked simultaneously miserable and peaceful.

Not liking his peculiar expression at all, I tried to rouse him once again with a particularly harsh shake of his shoulders.

"Stop..." he moaned as he unconsciously tried to shoo my hands away.

"Paul, wake up," I instructed, even though I had no clue what I was going to tell him once he did.

"But, it's only 6..." he whined with a yawn.

"No, it's not, it's 8," I countered with an unexpected grin, which I quickly wiped off my face.

"Oh, cor, that's late," Paul replied, irritated, as he opened his eyes for the third time this morning. As soon as his hazel orbs focused on me, though, he immediately freaked out as he tried to get off of the couch. I held him down, but that just angered him more. "No! It's you again! Let me go!" he yelled.

"Paul, please stop! I'm just as scared as you are, okay?" I explained hastily as I pushed him back flat.

"How could you be scared? You're a blimey kidnapper!" he retorted angrily as he once more fought against my grasp.

"No, I'm not! I'm just a journalist! Really, Paul, I'm confused just like you are!" I pressed.

"Oh, why are you confused? Because you think it's 2022 or something? Honestly, you're mad! Now let me go!" he roared, and then, before I could breathe, he pushed me off of him with a force which I never imagined he'd possess.

"Paul!" I screamed as I scrambled off of the hard, wooden floor.

He was already approaching the front door, and I knew all too well that I wasn't going to be able to stop him.

"Paul! Wait!"

But I was too late, for he'd already yanked the door opened and disappeared behind it. Still running after him, I mirrored his previous actions, which sent a burst of freezing, cold air onto my cheeks as the door opened.

Knowing that he couldn't have gone far, I called his name once again, but soon realized that doing so was all in vain, for he was standing completely still at the bottom of my front steps.

I watched him silently as I followed his gaze, trying to figure out what he was thinking whilst he stood so motionless.

He seemed to be staring at the cars which were parked carefully along the street. Most of them were only a few years old, since my neighbors certainly weren't bad off when it came to finances, and Paul seemed completely baffled by them.

His gaze then shifted toward an electronic billboard off in the distance, which was animated as it flipped through various advertisements of the newest iPhones or tech gadgets.

His mouth fell to the dirty sidewalk beneath him, realization dawning upon him, as the gears in his mind turned upside down.

"W-what?" I heard him stutter pitifully. "How? When? Where am I?"

Feeling that this was my cue, I made my way down the steps before I gently tapped his shoulder. He turned to face me with the most lost and vulnerable-looking expression I'd ever seen him wear. My heart broke for him.

"Tell me the truth," he began mildly as he searched my eyes for an answer, "am I really in 2022?"

"Yes," I replied earnestly with a confident, yet solemn nod.

"Well, then," he exhaled shakily whilst he straightened his hair with his hand, "I believe I need a ciggie."

Okay, I know that chapter was rather short and choppy, but after the next chapter the formalities will be out of the way and it'll pick up the pace and hopefully become somewhat cute, haha. Please do stick around, if you don't mind, and thank you so, so much for reading! ❤️