Imagine... The Beatles (Book Two)

Cheer Up

Beatles Imagine :||

You've just been down in the dumps lately.

You've gone nights without sleeping, days worth of crying, and, as sad as it is to say, suicidal thoughts.

When you broke down at your best friends band practice, they knew something was up.

"Something's up." John spoke as you left the room. George nodded, putting his guitar down gently.

Paul, the bass player, sat down on the couch where you had been sitting minutes prier.

"I wonder what's up with Y/N. She's usually the happiest person out of all five of us." Ringo spoke from his stool.

John nodded in agreement. "Something's gotta be up. There's gotta be a reason why she is so sad." Paul said.

"Well, her boyfriend, I should say ex, abused her. Yeah, she just caught him cheating on her. That's what Dot told me, anyhow." George said.

Paul looked over to George, who was now leaned against the wall taking a sip of tea as if it was nothing.

"You tell us now? Seriously?" John practically yelled. Paul glared at George, and Ringo walked over to George and hit his cup of tea to the ground.

"Hey! What was that for?" George asked. "For not telling us about Y/N, dip shit." Ringo shot back.

"We gotta do something for Y/N." Paul grumbled.

"What was that, Macca?" John asked.

"That's it! We'll write a song for Y/N!" Paul cheered.

Paul had fancied you since third grade! Nows his chance to win you over.

That was proven hard. John's fancied you too. John wanted to write the song, but, Paul did too. "How about you write the song together?" George suggested.

The two friends looked at each other, glared, and muttered, "Fine."

George clapped, "Great! Now, let's get back to rehearsal!"

~One Week Later~

Paul beamed at you as you sat down on the couch. "Glad you could join us!" he smiled. John glared, then smiled, "We wrote a new song."

Paul gave the count off, and the song began.

"Two of  riding nowhere, spending someone's hard earned pay.

You and me Sunday driving, not arriving, on our way back home.

We're on our way home.

We're on our way home.

We're going home.

Two of us sending postcards, writing letters, on my wall.

You and me burning matches, lifting latches, on our way back home.

We're on our way home.

We're on our way home.

We're going home.

You and I have memories, longer than the road that stretches out ahead.

You and me wearing rain coats, standing so low, in the sun.

You and me chasing paper, getting nowhere, on our way back home.

We're on our way home.

We're on our way home.

We're going home.

You and I have memories, long than the road that stretches out ahead.

Two of us  wearing rain coats, standing so low, in the sun.

You and me chasing paper, getting nowhere, on our way back home.

We're on our way home.

We're on our home.

We're going home."

You had tears in your eyes! "You wrote that beautiful song for me?" you asked. Paul and John nodded, "We heard about Clyde. We knew we had to cheer you up some how. So, we wrote you a song."

You smiled, and went to hug the boys.

The End.
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