Hey You ⌲ Paul McCartney

4 // hey you

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June 24, 1961 // 9:27 pm
{ Soundtrack; Hey You - Pink Floyd }

"Hey you! Out there on the road, always doing what you're told, can you help me?" A cracked voice called out into the thick, windy Liverpudlian night. I turned around sharply only to find nothing but a gust of wind swirling behind me.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"Please come again!" Zoltar interrupted, making me jump for the second time this hour. "Please come again! Please come again!" Now it wasn't stopping and I trudged my way away from the repetitive and rather annoying machine. "Please come again!"

But then the voice suddenly became a distorted sound, a creepy, almost malicious noise that seemed to lacerate my brain.

"Thanks for the help." The same voice that yelled for help earlier had virtually whispered into my ear. His voice, which I had had a resistance to, was getting into me from all sides, surging through my body in waves and defining my sense of community.

But him, he was gorgeous. His face had curled around the hazy darkness and his silhouette was clearer.

"I'm sorry, can I help you now?" I asked, hoping desperately he'd say yes and I could get to know him better.

"Well, actually I own Zoltar. I just needed help moving the coins to me car." I sighed as he looked down to the sand, shyly tucking his hands into his pants pockets."What caught me by surprise though, was that he worked for you even after I turned him off."

I glanced over at the machine, only to notice all the lights had gone out. I reached in my jacket pocket and pulled out the unanticipated note it handed to me.

"Could you explain this to me? Though I know it must be the killing time;
Unwillingly mine." I asked the mysterious owner of Zoltar. A soft summer breeze had greeted us as his faint smirk slowly crumbled into a sad frown.

"Oh, I don't write those, love. They're 100% authentic for each individual. You should consider yourself lucky to get a card like that." I scoffed at his statement. Lucky? I was terrified. What the hell does this mean?

"Oh... Okay," I sighed but he was just glaring attentively at the moon, scrutinizing each and every aspect to its physical appearance.

"You know, they say the moon is the most beautiful thing," he said thoughtfully, "But the moon is nothing compared to you."

I started blushing intensely, standing there awestruck and watching as he finally travelled his vacantly crestfallen eyes to mine.

"Well, I guess this means goodbye. It was a pleasure meeting you, and that's quite the card you got there. Hold onto it." He then gave me a friendly smile and walked away.

But the slightest notion of his human figure had disintegrated through the inky darkness as he neared the corner of the lonely, dusty pier, which I liked to call: The Pier of Broken Dreams. Well, of my broken dreams anyways.

"Penny! Where have you been, love? I've been looking everywhere for ya!" Jean shouted with a droopy Keith next to her.

"What's wrong with this lad," I motioned over at disheveled Keith as she quickly glanced over at him, acting as if nothing were out of the blue.

"Nothing's wrong with him. He's just well... He's rather intoxicated. I think I'll take him home. Are you joining us?" She asked as Keith slumped onto her shoulder and I let out a meek giggle. "Keith... Keith Richards! Wake up, love!"

"I think I'll just enjoy the serenity of this pier at night. I'll see you tomorrow?" I asked and she nodded, giving me a wave goodbye and was off. I really just yearned to find that boy who looked at me as if I were a priceless painting.

And in consistent with this pastel-colored idyll, every seemingly far-fetched impression of love started to make sense. All these clichés about infatuation and all those heartbreaking tales sung in love songs all came together, just because of the boy who shared a short-lived conversation with a girl who never believed in love.

I then dropped onto the bench adjacent to Zoltar, resting my sleepy head. I gazed at all the intricacies that flowed around his box. It suddenly reminded me again of the boy who never left my absentminded thoughts, and how I never got his bloody name.

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