April 21st, 1958

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"Did you and George break up or something?"

I looked up from my book, Paul had just come back from practice.

"No..." I was confused, "I mean, I haven't talked to him in a few days...why?"

"He just seems really mad at you. Did you do something?" Paul asked.

"What? No!" I was shocked hearing this news.

"Well, whenever John or I mentioned you, he got all fed up and told us to stop talking about you..." Paul said with a surprised look on his face.

I was so confused no words were able to come out of my mouth.

"Are you sure nothing's happened?" He asked again.

"Not that I know about..."

*~*~*

I had been stressing about George all night. I had tried to call him a few times but he never answered.

Suddenly there was a knock on my door.

"Come in," I mumbled.

It was John and Paul.

"Do you want to come along with us to the pub?" Paul asked kindly.

"Sure," I agreed, "It'll get my mind off of things."

The whole way to the pub John and Paul kept making jokes, trying to cheer me up. They were tickling me and making funny faces just to make me stop worrying about George.

-

We finally arrived and John held the door open for me.

"What a gentleman," I joked.

He raised his eyebrows suggestivley. I punched him in the arm and walked inside laughing.

But I was suddenly stopped from my joy...

I saw George sitting at the bar with his arms around an unknown girl. He was practically eating her face, it made me sick.

"Oh shit..." I heard John quietly say behind me.

I was taken over by pure anger, not even close to crying like I would expect myself to be.

I stormed over to George at the bar, pried him off the girl, took his drink and threw it in his face.

"What the hell?!" He gasped, standing up.

Unaware, I slapped him hard, clear across his face.

I then ran out of the bar. John stood their wide-eyed and Paul looked like he was a second away from killing George.

And would've let Paul kill him...

-

I raced off down the street, about to ball my eyes out when I heard footsteps running behind me.

It was George.

"What the hell is wrong with you Diana?!" He yelled.

I turned around and we both stopped on the sidewalk. I looked up at him shocked of what he just said.

What the hell was wrong with me?!

I probably had steam coming out of my ears right about then.

"Oh fuck you George!" I gritted through my teeth and spat in his face.

He wiped it away quickly, "What, for kissing that girl back there?!"

I nodded profusely, crossing my arms.

"Well, that's probably much less than what happened between you and Rory the other night!"

I was shocked and confused, "What?"

"Yeah! He was practically drooling over you while I was playing onstage. You were laughing with him the whole night, smiling the whole time.  And then he drove you home!"

"This is what you've been so mad about?" I asked.

George furrowed his eyebrows and glared at me, "Yes is bloody is!"

I sighed angrily, "Nothing at all went on between him and I. He asked if I wanted a ride home. And after not seeing you anywhere, assuming you bailed on me, I agreed to him."

He stuttered a bit, "W-What?! You thought I bailed on you? On your birthday?! I would never do that to anybody, especially to you! And you're trying to tell me you didn't 'get it on' with the tall, blondie Rory?"

"No George, I didn't," I scoffed, "He did ask me if I wanted to go out. But guess what?! I boldly said I had a boyfriend and he kindly understood!"

I was sick of George's BS by then, so I started to walk off again.

He grabbed my by my wrists, stopping me, "You what?" He toned down a little.

"Yes George, I told him I had a boyfriend. Now, next time you go and decide to fool around with another girl, get your facts straight. And don't break anybody's heart in the process."

He looked at me blankly, he almost looked as he was about to cry.

I yanked my arms away and walked on home.

He stood there, watching me walk down the road. He didn't move at all.

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