Chapter 12

6.5K 293 205
                                    

(Its been a while, sorreh. I skipped ahead some, I hope no one minds)

___________________

Part twelve, two years later

___________________

August 16th, 1960

The four musicians sat at a table in the empty Jacaranda club, waiting in anticipation for the minivan to show up that would take them to Hamburg.

Well, mostly in anticipation.

Paul was a nervous wreck, bouncing his knee up and down and smoking cigarette after cigarette, hoping John showed up soon.

Yeah sure, he was always a little late, but if his lazy arse didn't show up any minute now, the van would arrive first and everyone would have to wait on him. They were already going to be arriving in Hamburg late into the night, or in the early morning, however you wanted to look at it. They couldn't really afford any more lost time.

George leaned across the table, his elbows resting on it and supporting his chin as he sighed heavily, looking up at Paul's distressed expression. "He'll turn up, you know how he is." He said, hoping to ease his older friend's mind.

He thought Paul got worked up way too easily, especially about John. He cared a lot for their auburn haired leader, and though George respected and was glad that they were so close, he still felt that they treated him like the annoying little brother. He was seventeen now, and it's not like there was even that big of an age difference.

Paul continued to appear zoned out, staring off some place way past George and his unheard reassurances, lost in his worrisome thoughts. Ever since that incident between them about two years back, John has been even more difficult and moody than usual, always trying to get on Paul's nerves.

And now, they had this great opportunity in front of them- Allan Williams had booked them to play in bloody Hamburg in the Indra club! It was the first time they were going to be so far away from Liverpool, earning money by doing what they loved...and that cocky little bastard was late.

Paul rubbed his eyes tiredly and checked his watch for about the thirteenth time, when none other than John Lennon happened to stroll merrily into the club, smirking at his bandmates, finding this all rather amusing.

"It's about time you showed up." Pete muttered, a bored and uninterested look on his face. Their last-minute drummer was still getting used to John and his strange personality, and so he still dared to make little irritated comments such as those when everyone else knew it was easier to just let it go, let John be John.

The group's leader stopped to give Pete a warning glance, his eyes squinted and his lips thinned, silently telling him to shut his gob before he did it for him.

It was utterly silent in the room when Stu spoke up for the first time, after being so quiet and keeping to himself, all alone with his thoughts.

That's just how he was.

Quiet, mysterious, artistic.

"We've been waiting ages, John." He said, his arms folded across his chest casually. Paul nodded in agreement, adding a barely audible "Yeah".

He didn't feel very comfortable around Sutcliffe, he could only see him as some artsy fellow that John always talked about. And, Paul had noticed, John never had anything bad to say about Stu, ever. He'd go on and on, telling Paul just how great he was, how good of mates they were. It was like Lennon were trying to make him jealous, rubbing it in his face that he possibly cared more for Stuart than him.

No replyWhere stories live. Discover now