𝓦𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓛𝓲𝓯𝓮 𝓕𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓽𝓼 𝓐𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓨𝓸𝓾

Chapter V

Life had this certain simplicity which Paul appreciated. The daily routine gave him a sense of stability. The air was fresh, and the sun, slightly veiled, filtered through the leaves of the trees, making the streets of London all the more pleasant. Paul, with his casual stride, seemed to be just another man, walking to the rhythm of his thoughts. People passed by him, some laughing with friends, most paying no particular attention to the disheveled-haired man seemingly lost in thought. After all, this was London: everyone lived at their own pace, often without noticing others.
    It was an ordinary day, until something deeply troubling crossed Paul's mind. He stopped abruptly, slightly disrupting the flow of passers by. He frowned, struck by a sudden realisation: he couldn't remember his childhood, his early teenage years, or even much of his adult life. It was as if someone had deliberately erased part of his mind. The memories were blurry, almost like a dream that fades upon waking. Faces seemed familiar, but he couldn't name them. Melodies twirled in his mind, but without the lyrics to complete them. Or he remembered lyrics but couldn't recall the melody. Remember, Paul! Remember! he heard his inner voice repeat. Paul felt a knot of anxiety rise in his throat. How could he not remember? How could he live without knowing his past? He sat down on a bench, trying to calm his swirling mind, hoping the memories would return. But with each attempt to gather a fragment of his past, it evaporated like smoke. It was as if his own mind was playing hide and seek with him. As if the life he had lived was forgetting him. Or vice versa. He no longer knew. He no longer remembered.
***
As John was comfortably sat on his sofa, a notebook and pen in hand, immersed in his thoughts, scribbling ideas for a new song, the door burst open unexpectedly. A breathless figure rushed into the room. It was Paul, his hair tousled, his eyes wide with fear.

"John!" he gasped. "I'm losing everything, everything is fading! I'm forgetting everything, every memory, every moment! I... I don't even know who I really am anymore."

Paul's hands were trembling as he tried to catch his breath. He was visibly upset, and his gaze betrayed deep distress.

John quickly put down his notebook, stood up hastily, and approached Paul, taking him by the shoulders. "Paul, calm down. Breathe. We'll find a solution, okay?"

Paul nodded, but his eyes were still filled with palpable worry. "I feel like I'm caught between two worlds, John. It's as if a part of me has evaporated. I don't want to forget everything we've experienced, everything we've created together."

John took Paul by the shoulders, trying to comfort him. "Listen, Paul, you're not alone in this. We'll get through this together. Whatever it takes, I'll be there for you. We'll find a way to bring back your memories. Repeat after me: 'I will remember everything. I won't forget who I am. I am a Beatle. I am a bassist, a guitarist, a pianist. I'm John Lennon's co-songwriter. I am Paul McCartney'."

The latter frowned, shaking his head, trying to remember. "Paul McCartney? That's... me?!"

John nodded. "Yes Paul, it's you."

I am Paul McCartney, Paul thought. But as soon as he had this thought in mind, it seemed weird. This thought, Paul McCartney, didn't feel like it was him. Yet he knew it had something to do with him. Remember Paul! Remember everything, his internal voice was begging him now. Please. Don't give up. Come back. Come back to me.

That's where he realised this voice wasn't really his... it sounded more like another one... like John's. John was talking inside his mind. How was that even possible? He had no idea. It was as if he was in two places at the same time, and that John was talking to him wherever his other self was.

Come back to me, Paul. Remember me.

Paul focused on the voice. I will remember you, he thought. And this time it was his real interior voice, not John's.

I remember you and I'm coming back.