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George's POV

"Are you sure?"

I folded my arms and gazed at John and Kaylee, their hands held tightly together.

"Well, yeah," Kaylee responded. "We kind of wanted to do it for your benefit. We're not going to just be free loaders."

Pattie tilted her head and smiled sympathetically. She and Kaylee were close, and when they leave, I was worried who she would turn to.

"You do know you can stay," Pattie cooed, turning to face me for my approval. "We love having you around."

I nodded, but that hard glint in John's eye was set, and I knew the decision was made.

"Where will you be going?" I asked.

Pattie gasped.

"George!" She hissed, but I merely grinned. "But-"

"We'll be fine, Pat," Kaylee assured, but Pattie was set firmly on her idea of keeping the two. "We've got our eyes on a house just down the street, alright?"

Pattie bit her lip and settled down beside me. Her head rested on my shoulder and I winked at John, who was laughing quietly.

"Will I be able to see Jape?" Pattie mumbled, and John widened his eyes.

"Of course," Kaylee agreed, ignoring John's protests. "Now. We'll start getting packed."

===

Paul's POV

The house, a large red-bricked two story, was a stand out among the short, white bricked surroundings.

It was magnificent, and I felt quite jealous.

"I still feel horrible for the whole publicity thing for Kaylee," Jane whispered as we walked up the stone pavings towards the front door. "I'm sure she hates me.."

"No, no!" I protested, twisting my hand around her waist. "Don't say that. Now come on, let's get inside. They'll think we're ditching them."

===

Kaylee's POV

Everyone was crowded around the living room, either drinking or laughing, waiting to leave and go to dinner; my heart skipped a beat.

It drew me crazy to believe I was even here. With The Beatle's.

"So are we going or not?" Ringo yelled, his voice raising above everyone else's.

I tried to catch John's eye and tell him to get ready, but he was too busy talking with Paul.

Groaning, I walked over towards George, who was sitting by the food bowl, eating snacks every time he paused in the conversation he was having with Ringo.

"Can you tell everyone we're going?" I asked, to which George nodded and stood up.

I thanked him and let my eyes focus back onto John, my stomach tightening slightly with what I saw.

He was getting off of the couch from where he was with Paul and moved to sit on the other side of Jane, obviously deeply immersed in a conversation with her. He had the look in his eyes, the one where you knew that what he was saying meant a lot to him, and I felt disheartened.

What could they even be talking about?

Just before George shouted at everyone to get ready, John took Jane's hand and lifted it.

"C'mon! Let's get a move on!"

Everyone's head turned and they all stood up and moved towards the door, ready to go out for dinner.

Through our small crowd of eight, John and Jane got disconnected as we all moved. I looked around as Pattie, George, Ringo and Paul got through the door, and I almost cried in relief when I found John at the back, his eyes on me.

"Ready?" I asked, but he seemed to hang back, hesitant.

"Are you sure Jasper will be okay on his own?" He questioned, glancing over his shoulder to the hallway. "I mean, you don't think you should stay home?"

My heart leapt into my throat; he didn't want me to come.

"But- He's sleeping." I replied, concerned. Was I taking it the wrong way?

John blinked, then shook his head, as though he just realised how ridiculous he sounded.

"You're right, he'll be fine," He mumbled, then took my hand gently, leading me out the door.

===

By the time we reached the Mersey Side centre, a whole square full of restaurants and shops, John had let go of my hand.

It felt odd to be near him and not feel my hand within his, but I just assumed it was because I was talking to Maureen and he was at the front of the group, joking with George.

"Where are we going?" Pattie asked, her dark haired wig over her blonde hair. She'd asked if I wanted to wear it, but I refused.

I was pretending to be George's cousin, so I had an excuse to be with them. But that excuse didn't stop the rumour of John and I.

"Erm, DonGoodé." Ringo answered, watching a group of girls who'd gathered to our left, staring at us. "We'd better get a move on."

The group began to move again, and Maureen was over by Ringo, his collar pulled up past his chin. She grabbed his hand, confident that nobody would recognise them, but I doubted it.

Everybody knew Ringo; no one else could have such a fabulous nose.

Pushing my thoughts away, I looked over Paul's shoulder to see John has stopped talking with George and was now strolling along, his lenin cap pulled down over his eyes, his hands in his coat pockets.

Picking up my pace, I ended up beside him, my cheeks cold and senseless. He glanced hurriedly at me, then focused back on his feet as we walked through the mob of people.

I had no idea what had gotten into him. I expected the act of not knowing who I was, but now he just seemed cold.

"Have you been here before?" I asked him, shrugging away his odd behaviour.

"Uh, no." He answered, then turned to Paul on his left. "The food place is just up there."

Sighing, I waited until he turned back, then lifted my hand to his arm. He shook it off gently.

"John-" I began but he walked off towards a fancy building, the sign reading 'DonGoodé' which was packed with people, and smelt like smoke. He pushed open the doors and dragged his feet inside, not bothering to turn around as the others followed him.

"Come on!" Pattie exclaimed, grabbing my gloved hand and pulling me behind her as she and George hurried in after Mo and Ringo.

I watched John nod at a waiter and sit down at a large table obviously reserved for us, my stomach churning over and over again.

What was his problem?

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