CHAPTER 21

551 19 5
                                    

Fifteen months later

_~*~_


"Where are you going? We're not through talking yet!" Seeing Paul getting ready to depart pissed John off even more than their argument had. It was bad enough he was more or less being forced into something he didn't necessarily want by Paul, who clearly made up his mind about the whole idea. Being unable to finish the shouting match was even worse. Not that Paul had done too much shouting. If anything, he'd only grown quieter and calmer as the row progressed and by now, his face was a study in indifference. It was a bit scary, really, to see such an utter lack of emotion reflected back at him when John was just about ready to explode.

Paul could feel his feelings getting shut in. He hadn't felt like that in a very long time and he knew he'd pay for it, but there wasn't anything he could do to stop it. All he could do was try and not let it control him even more than it already did, so he went to put on his shoes and coat as planned. "This is our problem, John. No need for Mike to get caught in the middle. I've promised to help getting set up weeks ago, so that's what I'm going to do. You're welcome to come along. This disagreement will still be here when I get back."

With that, he picked up his guitar and left, hoping he'd feel better after doing the first sound check. He was going to be playing some songs at the opening of Mike's show, and he wasn't going to let John's moods fuck that up. Either he'd show up and play as well, or he wouldn't. Paul hoped he would, but either way, Mike's big day wasn't going to be wrecked if he could help it. Deep down, he wasn't too sure his relationship with John could be rescued just as easily. It seemed like an unfair outcome of such a massive leap of faith...

_~*~_

Hours had passed since Paul left and John wasn't happy at all. 'Love Hurts' was playing for the seventeenth time that evening and he was on his second tub of Ben & Jerry's when he heard the front door slamming shut. Half expecting a tearful Paul to throw himself into his arms, which he felt would only be right since he'd been so terribly wronged, John sat up straighter, trying to look like he wasn't falling apart.

Well, there was a McCartney storming into the sitting room, but it wasn't Paul, and there weren't any tears, either. In fact, Mike looked nothing short of murderous. "What are you doing here?" John reclined into his former state of misery, focusing on his rapidly melting comfort food. He was getting nauseous by now, but it was a matter of principle: Paul hurt his feelings, so he was going to eat Paul's ice cream. It seemed only reasonable.

Mike was bristling. He'd noticed something was wrong the instant Paul walked into that gallery and even though he refused to say what bothered him, it wasn't difficult to pinpoint the source of his stress since one person was so blatantly absent. "Would you care to explain why my brother is down with a migraine for the first time in four and a half years, Lennon?"

"Maybe you should ask him," John snapped, not about to let a kid read him the riot act. "I'm not the one being a fucking bellend, am I? Sending his baby brother to fight his battles for him, what a joke."

If Mikes hackles hadn't already been raised, they have then. What the hell was John thinking? Not much, apparently, apart from how whatever had happened was everyone's fault but his. Which, basically, was what any row between him and Paul came down to. "Fuck off, John. Paul doesn't even know I'm here. I haven't a clue what you're fighting about but I reckon it's a safe bet that you've gone off the deep end again. What is it this time? Wouldn't let you get twelve cats? Got too matey with a colleague for your liking? Bought the wrong toothpaste? Tell me, John, what terrible crime he's guilty of this time."

Alright, so maybe he had picked some petty fights. But this was different. Not the idea itself, but how it had sounded like a done deal. John didn't like being put on the spot and Paul had been awfully matter-of-fact about this. "Not that it's any of your business, but he plans to buy this flat."

Call Me Back AgainWhere stories live. Discover now