Pretty Boy [j.l + p.m]

xi

"Me parents can't see you like this, Paul. We've got to go somewhere." George decided, standing up from the couch.

"So we're not gonna talk about it?"

George glanced outside. "Talk about you and  how you dick around with Mr. Lennon? I'd rather not. C'mon Paul, let's go-"

"So that's what you think? I'm just messing around?"

"Jesus, Paul, if me opinion was so important you would've given me a call before any of those," George pointed at Paul's neck, "happened. So let's get a move on, yeah?"

Paul rose from the couch. "Where are we going?"

"I was thinking 'bout Abigail's place. She's having a party."

"Abigail? I didn't know you talked to her." Paul followed George outside.

"Tried to get with her, but 'er parents are staunchly Catholic." George unlocked the car and swung open the door. "But her parents won't be there, so."

Paul opened the passenger door. "Aren't ya a little too young to be havin' sex, Geo?"

"Piss off, Paul."

"I'm kidding. I'm proud of you for deciding to finally become a man." Paul teased, entering the car.

George rolled his eyes as he started the car. "Have fun getting drunk without me."

"I'll be blasted. Don't drink anything though, because I'll need you to drive sober."

"You're going to have a massive hangover." George warned, backing out of the driveway.

"Aye, at least I'll have fun."

Once George pulled up on the street of Abigail's house he felt like leaving the instant he spotted the numerous cars that surrounded the house. There was no way he was going to find her now.

When they finally made it inside the house, George followed Paul through the thick crowd of people.

George frowned as Paul gazed in awe at the amount of alcohol Abigail had managed to get for the party. "Holy mother Mary, George. You picked a right one."

"Eh. There's too many goddamn people in here." George complained, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Paul scanned the crowd. "Oh, yeah. Guess you're right about that." Paul faced the liquor and reached out for a random bottle.

"I'm glad I get to see you become drunk." George grumbled.

Paul popped the cap open on the glass bottle and took a swig. "You can be me bodyguard."

"I feel so honored. Thank you for this blessing." George bowed his head and clasped his hands together.

"Anytime, son." Paul chuckled, gripping the neck of his bottle tighter.

"What type of liquor is it?" George asked, looking up at Paul.

Paul brought the bottle to his face and squinted. "It's Gin."

"Do you think I'm going to see Abigail anytime soon?" George sighed.

"Don't think so." Paul shrugged and pointed the end of the bottle towards the crowd. "But, there are other girls who might resemble Abigail."

"Are you fine with stayin' here alone?" George scratched the back of his neck nervously.

"Of course I am. I just want to get nice and sloshed." Paul smiled, raising the Gin above his head. "Go get 'em tiger!" Paul cheered. George didn't notice the three guys staring at Paul when he left.

   "I couldn't believe her, y'know, acting like she owned me."

Ringo rubbed the side of his face tiredly. "Yeah, mate. Sounds horrible, really."

John lightly hit Ringo's shoulder. "Don't fucking sleep. You get to hear me out because you're the one who told her shite that she shouldn't have heard."

Ringo inwardly groaned. John was mad and he wanted to get even. "I'm up."

"You better be. I'll dump cold water on you if I have to." John threatened.

"It's like eleven o'clock at night, John. I'm not young anymore, I don't want to stay up late enough to see the sun rise." Ringo weakly protested, leaning his upper body against the kitchen counter.

"It's only ten. Besides, I'm not the one who rats out other people."

Ringo buried his head in his hands. "I'm sorry, John. If I knew she would use what I said against you I wouldn't have told her."

"Bit too late for that, ain't it." John narrowed his eyes.

"You can't honestly hang this over me head. You're the one doing whatever it is you do with 'im. You should've expected some backlash." Ringo explained, struggling to keep his eyes open. He should be asleep, not bickering with John.

"I expected backlash from Paul! Not from the queen bitch."

Did John forget he had a job? A job he worked very hard for, in fact. "It's Saturday night, John. We've been together the whole afternoon. I need to go to the hospital tomorrow. I don't want to go there dead tired."

"Are you still a nurse?"

"Yeah." Ringo backed away from the counter. "So that means I'm going to work at five in the morning, and it also means that you are leaving now."

John hung his shoulders low. "Guess I've got to go home and deal with Cyn. Have fun dealin' with sick people tomorrow, luv."

Ringo grinned sleepily. "It's always a blast. Have fun dealin' with the love of your life."

John rolled his eyes. "Oh yeah, Cynthia is the best thing tha' happened to me."

"You used to think that, believe it or not." Ringo snickered.

John scrunched up his face. "Don't remind me. Anyway, I'll see me way out. G'night Ringo."

Three hours later, Ringo was awoken by a phone call from the hospital, urging him to come into the hospital to aid a young boy who was unconscious in critical condition.

(Lmao #sorrynotsorry for this horrible chapter, it'll get better though)