An Obscure Lyric

Chapter 1: The Truth

"Paul, tell us: Don't you miss having all those screaming girls vying for your affection?" 

Such blatant disrespect, with his beloved Linda sitting right next to him.

Christ, why were the press so hung up on what happened decades ago in his own goddamn bedroom? 

The people-pleasing part of his consciousness seemed to answer his thoughts right away, taking what he assumed to be the general public's perspective in a reasonable tone. Well you're a public commodity of sorts, you know. It's the job. And it's not as if you objected to all the adulation.

Paul huffed out a breath. Yes, he was a celebrity, but he couldn't escape the feeling that he had it the worst of the group. He didn't hear them pestering George or Ritchie this much. Why him? Did something about him make the reporters feel welcome to ask? To push him to share his thoughts on all the many birds he shagged in his glorious past once upon a time? Maybe they can sense that I'm quite open to talking about sex as a general rule.

Oh, how he would love to just be honest with them when they asked. Ask an outright question, get your straightforward answer with the whole truth. That was the best way. Of course it was up to the press to be careful what they asked and what answers they chose to broadcast to their audience; that sure as hell wasn't his job as a songwriter and performer. Paul valued his honesty greatly. He cared very much that others would consider him an honest man. 

With Linda sitting at his side, faithful beside him for all these years, he knew it would be wrong to justify their hurtful questions with a real, fully honest answer. It would be wrong to give them another moment's breath or thought. No, Paul couldn't legitimise that callous treatment of Linda. He could communicate his opinion of the question nonverbally. Pull on his old aloof and slightly disapproving big brother routine that came so naturally. 

His verbal answers he tended to cut uncharacteristically short. Responding with a negative. Might give a half hearted joke with a bit of jab to it at times. 

"No, and I'm not allowed out anymore."

"No, no, I don't miss it a bit seeing as my days are now so full of marital bliss."

"I'd sown my wild oats by that point, I was done."

"No, that's all in the past."

"Not really, no. I mean what can you do, Tom?" Drop it already, Tom, you heartless arsehole. Asking about it once was bad enough but to keep digging at it as if no one in the world could understand why I'd prefer being with Linda...