~ eight ~

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

Ah! I almost forgot!

Should I still 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.

"Piss off!" I joked, "I've been so busy lately wi' movin' to this place, I've barely got time to meself at all."

"Sounds rough, buddy." Stu laughed. "Anyroad, how've ye been?"


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

"That's good, John. Pete and I miss ye so much!" Stu smiled through his words. "Though, we haven't heard much from ye."

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

Stu gasped, "That's good, John! I'm glad ye were able to find blokes wi' a sense of music, too. Even if they'll neva' be as great as we were!"

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, that temporary happiness was 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.

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

How adorable.

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

"No! I'm glad yer here, ...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.

This worried me a tad, it'd break my heart if anything happened to her. I'd never want Paul to deal with what I'm going through.

"Where's yer Ma-" I began to say, until Paul chimed in.

"She's... still in the clinic. The hospital held her overnight." He explained solemnly.

I frowned a bit and stared at the floor. Looking back up at his doe eyes, I put my hand on his cheek.

Don't Pass Me By // MclennonWhere stories live. Discover now