I Learnt To Love In Liverpool | George Harrison ✅

♥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲-𝐅𝐢𝐯𝐞 ♥

We went into the interview like there was no tension between us. John and Paul took to the settee in front of the interviewer, somebody who I recognised from the BBC, but didn't remember the name of, and Ringo and I were forced to stand behind them. My legs ached already because of last night's events with Emeraude, so I hoped that the interview didn't last too long.

"Hello, boys." The interviewer said as soon as the camera had started rolling.

"Hello." We chorused politely.

"How are you feeling today?"

"How are you feeling today?" John retorted in typical John-like fashion.

The interviewer stuttered, having clearly not expected that kind of response. I sighed. Great, so he's never even heard of us before. If he had heard of us, then he'd know how we are in interviews. "F-fine."

"Gear." John answered slightly sarcastically, the rest of us staying quiet and letting him do his thing. "So let's get goin' then, shall we?" John asked, "some of us have actual jobs to do -"

"John..." Ringo hissed at the 'leader' of our band.

"The boys think I'm rude," John said as he glared at Ringo briefly and then turned back to the interviewer, "do you think I'm rude?"

"I, uh... uh..."

"Poor little bird's lost for words." John chuckled, "well, let's get on with this anyway."

"R-right..." The interviewer continued to stutter as he played about with his papers for a few seconds and then coughed, clearing his throat. "The first question... um... your new album is -"

"Have you ever interviewed anyone before?" John interrupted.

Ringo and I groaned. Why can't we just get on with this? I asked myself silently, wishing that the interview would be over and I could go home to my love.

"Of course..." the interviewer didn't stutter, thank God. His voice was annoying and so was he, and I didn't think I'd last another ten minutes in his presence.

"Doesn't seem like it. All you're doing is stuttering -"

"If you just let him get on with it, John -"

John cut me off, "what, so you can get back home to your little not-so-virgin girlfriend?" He smirked as if he had won a sick little game - in his mind, he probably had.

I winced. John could be cruel sometimes, but I didn't know he could be that cruel - and in front of the BBC man.

The interviewer was looking gleeful as he scribbled down John's words.

"John..." I was a bright red.

The interviewer turned to me, "and who is your girlfriend, George?" Wanker, I thought, of course you're not stuttering when you're focusing on me.

I opened my mouth to give him some sharp, comical quip, but John cut in before I could reply, "Paul's half sister!"

"My sister!" Paul snapped, speaking for the first time since we'd entered the building as he wagged his finger in John's face, Ringo and I looking on in embarrassment and the interview in amusement and interest. Paul hated Em being called anything other than his sister, and he made sure that she never felt like less of a sibling than Mike. "And be nice to George."

John scoffed. "This interview is over." He stood up and strode out, the rest of us looking apologetically at the interviewer and then hurrying after him.

"What was that all about?!" Paul fumed as soon as we were all back in the car with the doors and windows closed so nobody could hear the shouting.

"They sent us an idiot!" John yelled back, glaring at the bassist.

"And how is that George's fault?!" Paul shouted, "or Em's? You don't think before you fucking speak, John, and it never gets you anywhere good!"

John was silent for once.

I was silent, pensive, even.

Ringo started the engine, remaining quiet but very obviously glared at John whenever he could. We were all beyond annoyed with him.

"What do you thinkEm'll say about ye tellin' the world she lost it?" Ringo asked after a while. "John, yer meant to be 'er best friend. She trusts you."

"I could kill ye for it, John." I said, surprising myself. I hadn't even realised how angry with him I was until I had spoken, and I hadn't consciously made the decision to open my mouth and formulate the words. "I'm s'pose ter look after Emeraude and make sure no one hurts her. I'm s'pose ter protect her... but I can't protect her from you."

John was silent - for a change. I was surprised he hadn't come back with some clever taunt for me.

"And when this interview comes out," Paul said, "and Em reads it, because she reads all of our interviews, how do you think she'll feel? To know that dad will see it, and Mike? That they'll know she's not a virgin anymore? John, you didn't think about the effects of this, did you?"

John sniffled and my heart softened considerably. I sighed, "ah, Paul," I said, "jus' leave 'im. He knows what he's done."

"But -"

"Leave it, Macca." Ringo agreed, catching onto what I was hinting at when he looked at me in the rear view mirror and I shot a glance at John's back.

"She's going to be so fuckin' angry at you." Paul grumbled as he turned his attention from John and struck up a conversation with Ringo and I.