Don't Pass Me By // Mclennon

~ eight ~

I rolled over in my bed and stared at the telephone.

Ah! I almost forgot!

Should I call Stu? I mean, I'm a shakey mess from crying, still...

I dialed up his number anyways, hopefully it isn't too late. Maybe talking to an old mate would get my mind off of everything crowding my worried head.

It rang twice before someone finally picked up.

"...Ello?" Stu's voice asked.

"Stu! It's me, John!" I exclaimed.

"John? Haven't heard that name in years..." Stu joked, "Bit late for a reunion, ain't it?"

"Oh, piss off! Yer lucky I even bothered callin'." I joked right back, "I've jus been so busy lately wi' movin' to this place, I've barely got time to meself at all."

"Ah, yeah I'm sure. Sounds real rough, buddy." Stu laughed. "Anyroad, how've ye been?"

Horrible.

"I've been, uh, ...I've been good, today." I lied blatantly through my teeth.

"See? Now, that's good, John. It really isn't so bad, is it? Pete and I jus miss ye so much!" Stu smiled through his words. "Though, we haven't heard much from ye. So, it has to be bloody amazin' out there."

I twirled the wire to the phone line and smiled, "Good. Yeah, I'm glad..." I sighed, "Um. And I'm sorry for bein' so quiet to ye lot, but... in better news, I've met me own group of friends, here. We plan to write music togeva'."

Stu gasped, "Hey! That's brilliant, John! I'm honestly glad ye were able to find yerself a couple o' blokes wi' a little taste in music, as well. Even if they'll neva' be half as great as we were, ofcourse. ...I mean, face it, how could they possibly beat us?"

    "Right." I chuckled.

We talked a little longer until it was getting a bit too late. Stu said he had to get off the phone due to having to study. We said our goodbyes and the line went dead.

"Well, I reckon that temporary happiness was atleast well worth it." I said to myself, before wrapping myself in blankets.

...

The next day, it was a weekend! The first thing I did that day was walk down to Paul's house. After visiting him so often, I've memorized the route to his place quite well.

Was it odd of me to walk to his house first thing in the morning? Probably, but I don't care anymore.

Once I arrived on his porch, I knocked my fist against his door three times until I heard shuffling towards the door.

     "Who is it?" A tired voice called out to me.

"...J- John?" A sleepy boy finally answered the door. He wore blue pajamas and had messy, dark hair. Paul rubbed his eyes as if it could rub away the sleepiness, "Is that you?"

How adorable.

"Ey, Macca. Yeah, uh, sorry if it's a bit early. ...Didn't mean to wake ye or anythin'." I apologized.

"No! ...No, I'm glad ye came, ...makes it less lonely 'round here. So, ...come on in." He opened his door wider, allowing me to step inside.

I smirked at his reply and stepped inside. Paul's Father, Jim, was sat in a recliner in the corner of the room. Meanwhile Mary, his Mother, was nowhere to be seen.