you really got a hold on me | john lennon

CHAPTER SIXTY FIVE

March 27th, 1961

Not too long after I had spoken with Mimi a few weeks back, I had taken it upon myself to go back on the search for a job. It was long overdue. Getting to reconnect with Mimi, properly—and maybe even Paul—again had somehow grow to become one big wake-up call for me. That all the things that had been a struggle for me to deal with wouldn't simply change for me if I stood around waiting for it. 

So, after a short search, I had found myself back at a place I hadn't been to in ages. The diner I used to eat at with both Paul and John. 

It wasn't my first choice of a place to work, I had to admit, but it gave good enough money for what I was striving towards. I wasn't expecting to become as rich as the bloody Queen with this job anyways. It was just a little money to pass me by for the meantime. And with my short experience at Hamburg, I was sure to be put ahead of other people that were applying. Even if I didn't have much of a competition here for a position...you could never be sure. 

Now more than ever, I needed that extra money on me. As much as I appreciated Mimi opening her home to me once again, it just didn't sit right with me to stay in John's room again. It was the room she had offered out to me to take once they left for Hamburg—and again, I couldn't be picky with what I was given. It was just assured to be odd being surrounded by everything and anything possible that could remind me of him. His smell, the random bits of clutter around that I'd had grown used to, and some of his instruments laying around. All of those things would find some way to strike a nerve for certain. 

Which was all the more reason for me to work my arse off. Just so I could even dream of the possibility of another chance at starting over in the future. 

But right now, I was using the only break I had today during my shift to go see the boys off. Rather, I was seeing off George and maybe even Paul too. I had no intentions of saying goodbye to John. He could have Cynthia play the role of the bird who'd miss him so while he was away. 

As I neared the train platform, I looked down at the small scrap of paper where I had written down which one they would all be waiting at. I was already at the right one—Platform Three. But none of them were here and their train was set to be leaving in about ten minutes. I wasn't really surprised as they were all more of the type to come here earlier than needed and always came rushing through at the last minute.  I never really minded the fact, but now I was just wishing George or Paul came before John and Cynthia. It wouldn't be an exactly happy reunion if it was just the three of us. 

I paced myself back and forth as I waited for them. Time passed so much slower now that I had something to wait for. Funny how that worked. 

"Nat?" A familiar voice shouted out. 

I stopped my mindless pacing for a moment to look up at where it came from, and I wish I had chosen to ignore it instead. John and Cynthia were walking side by side—their hands brushing against each other. He had been the one to call my name. Cynthia looked between the both of us looking like she was torn herself. I understood where she was coming from. If my boyfriend had been calling out for his ex right in front of me, looking like he was a few seconds away from running into her arms, I'd be as torn as she was. Not just torn. I'd be furious. 

Cynthia then started to strike up a conversation with John in an attempt to distract him. She served as a barrier between us both. But her defenses were slowly crumbling down as John grew more persistent to talk to me. 

I wasn't on good terms with Cynthia and I don't know if she would ever be fond of me like she once was. But that didn't stop me from feeling absolutely horrible for her. I could only imagine being her at the moment. Sure, she had gotten back with someone she loved more than any of us would ever know. But he wasn't really hers. His heart was still locked up as prisoner in another woman, and the key had been thrown out. It just so happened that woman was me.