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John's POV

I sighed deeply as I walked down the hallway to dress rehearsal.

I knew Paul was going to be furious.

Furious that I called a stranger a 'whore', but honestly, I didn't even know why I said it.

That girl made me feel different, and I didn't want to be around her any longer before I did anything else stupid.

"John!"

Spinning around, I saw Paul striding towards me, his eyes wide with anger.

"Paul, I know, I couldn't help it, I-" I started, my arms raised helplessly.

"No, John, shut up!" He yelled, pointing a finger at me. "I don't have time for your petty excuses. Give me a good solid reason why you called that lady a 'whore'!"

Hearing Paul, the cute member, yell, is seriously the scariest thing, and I felt myself starting to crack under his tone.

"I don't know, Paul. And really, you don't even know her! She could be a whore for all we know. And, I swear, she- she.." I stammered, my gaze falling to my shoes.

"She what, Lennon." He hissed.

I definitely did not, in all my life, ever want to admit why I said that to anybody, especially someone Paul seemed to like.

"I don't know, but- I don't wanna be around her again, okay? It wasn't even a big deal anyway. So.. Piss off, Paul."

I turned around and kept walking down the hallway, Paul's anger stuck in my mind.

Why did I say that to her?

Why did I even care?

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