Fixing A Soul

22. The Smooth Operator

For the love of the two broken glass Paul had broke, I really need to stop being so fucking insecure about everything I do. Even writting simple words to a song makes me overthink to the extend where I was fully aware of how each word was pronounced.

And here we are again. The same studio, same day, same position, same material. George was sitting crossed leg infront of me, with several sheets of paper scattered around on the floor between us. Just like earlier today. exactly like earlier today.

Though the sun might be coming down, it still felt like I was reliving my day all over again. I'm back on the floor of the studio, trying to come up with the second verse of the song as George insisted that, "we should finish the song immediately as we started it, while the inspiration is still fresh" he qouted himself earlier.

I looked at George and George looked back at me. I look at the papers and the papers looked back at me. George looked at me and I looked at the papers. The papers looked at George and....

"What about 'thought I'll know you'll never lose your attration'." George quipped his pen in mid air as the idea struck his head.

"Yeah! that sounds great!" I cheered back with an artificial enthusiasm that was definitely not pumping through my veins at the moment.

"wow, I sense fake-ism" George blunted out dryly as a response to my fatal reply towards his light bulb moment.

"is that even a word, dimwit?" I chuckled, my fingers are scribbling a rought sketch on the corner of a lyrics sheet.

"now that's not a very kind nickname to call your boyfriend now, is it Julie?" George
purred with a develish grin on his face, clearly thinking he was so smooth.

I rolled my eyes playfully at him, "Ok then dear darling of Lanchester, forgive me for my foul usage of language my dear darling of Lanchester" I mocked him in my worse high class posh accent. making sure I even did those fancy hand gestures that posh people do while giggling at the tea table.

"you're so done with this lyrics shit aren't you, my love?" George puts down his pen and looked at me with sorrowful eyes and knowing eyebrows, yet his lips was still carved up into a smile.

"we've tried since the morning and now the sun is almost completely gone, can't we just call it a day, George? I really think it's gonna end up in the shit pile anyway" I whined, getting more discouraged myself by those words. How I long to just get out of the studio and see the sunlight, well, moonlight by now.

"That-is-before-a-whole-lot-of-drama-took-place-that-disrupted-our-session" George mumbled with only the corner of his mouth moving, trying to show me that he's only just poking fun about the situation, no offense intended.

"Wow Mr.Harrison, moments ago you wouldn't say a word towards me, not to mention that 'intermerdating' gaze of yours and now you wouldn't shut your bloody mouth, would you?" I chipped, my eyes still fixed on the little sketch I'm working on but my face holds a genuine noticable smile.

"we really need to work on your langauge" George joked, his head flying upwards to match my gaze. "I'm being honest is all" I shrugged innocently. I finish off the extra outlines of my sketch and reach out to strech my arm and wrist after holding it in such a profound position for awhile.

George was humming a faint tune to himself with a plain expression, it's obvious that he's pleased with some of the work in the phrasing so far. This took my interest as I scooched on over next to him and peered my head into whatever he's scribbling down on the used piece of paper.

" 'and I know you'll never lose your attraction, for others that have came before.' what we thinking about that line?" George asked my opinion on the new phrase he just put together.