𝓦𝓱𝓮𝓷 𝓛𝓲𝓯𝓮 𝓕𝓸𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓽𝓼 𝓐𝓫𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓨𝓸𝓾

Epilogue

The flickering light in the hospital room cast moving shadows on the floor, creating a heavy and tense atmosphere. In the middle of the room, Paul lay on a white bed, surrounded by machines that buzzed and clicked. The apparent tranquility of the room was in stark contrast to the clear anxiety on John's face, who stood beside the bed, staring at the indistinct figure of the man in the white coat on the other side of the room.

"Is he going to make it?" the guitarist asked, his voice fraught with anguish, eyes shining with worry.

The doctor approached, his features becoming clearer under the neon light above them. "He's fighting, Mr. Lennon."

John swallowed hard. "I have to do something. I can't just leave him here, without his memories, not knowing who he really is."

The doctor nodded solemnly. "The best thing you can do for him now is to talk to him, to remind him of everything you've shared together. Memories can be a powerful medicine in cases like this."

John nodded, his throat tight. "He survived that accident... That's already a miracle."

The doctor placed a comforting hand on John's shoulder. "He's strong, and he wants to come back. With your help, and with time, he may recover his memory."

John gazed at his best friend. "Paul?" he gulped. "It's me, it's John. Remember, Paul! Remember everything. Please. Don't give up. Come back... come back to me."

He knew his songwriting partner; he knew he would tirelessly struggle to remember his life as a Beatle, and his relationship with him. It was a battle for his own identity, for every memory, every moment, every emotion. John was determined to be there, every step of the way, to help his friend rediscover who he truly was. It was almost as if he could discern Paul's voice already, saying something like...

I remember you and I'm coming back.

The End