I'm Looking Through You // Mclennon

regret

Even though my window was rolled up, I could still hear the mindless chattering of 'city folk' through the thin glass. The sound of cars whizzing by mixed with that was bound to drive me to drink. The only peaceful thing about this place is maybe the blue sky that lingered far above the horizon. You'd think that someone who constantly preaches about peace and love would live somewhere a little more... well, peaceful. It's a bit ironic, actually.
New York just ain't that...

"Oh, ye mind turnin' up ahead?" I called out to the driver. "S'where I'll be gettin' off."

He didn't reply to me, he simply nodded his head and turned down the next road.

You'd also think with me being the world renowned, Paul McCartney, he'd be losing his head right about now, but not to worry. No, I wore a lazy, last-minute disguise to atleast lower the chances of being recognized here at John Lennon's apartment. I couldn't be caught dead here! The press would immediately assume the bloody Beatles were getting back together or something or another.

"Jus park right out front here, if ye could." I asked.

Again, another silent head nod.

I half smiled and handed money to the man as a payment before sliding out of the car with my suitcase in hand.

Staring up at the now quite intimidating building, I took a deep breath before gripping tightly at the handle of my bag.

"What's the worst that could happen?" I asked myself nervously, knowing damn well that there's no chance of this going right.

I walked up the brick steps then through the door. As I walked in, it was no shock to me when I noticed the quality of the place. The floor was of marble as well as the check-in desk and the ceiling boasted an expensive-looking chandelier. One thing that really caught my eye was the color of everything.

Plain white.

As I examined my surroundings, I slowly approached the man at the desk who was studying me up and down curiously.

"How can I help you, Sir?" He asked me in a confrontational tone.

"Visitin' an old friend, is all." I replied quickly.

"And who may that be?" He asked, shuffling through mountains of paper.

"Oh... Um..." I thought for a moment, I really wasn't prepared for all of these questions, "John."

"John, who?" He asked with a chuckle, "Got a lot of Johns... Um. Surely, you don't think I'll just let you up to John Lennon's room, unannounced?"

I realized for a moment that I was still underneath this wretched disguise and to this person it looked like some man in a trench coat was trying to get into an A-List celebrity's house, uninvited.

With a chuckle, I removed the glasses that covered about half of my face, "Well, ye see, I'm kinda familiar."

The man's eyes widened as realization fell upon him, he turned to the call-receiver on the wall and rang who I assume to be John.

"...Help me, I'm trapped inside this little box!" That familiar voice answered rather quickly.

"Erm... Looks like you've got a visitor, Mr. Lennon."

"Odd. Wasn't expectin' anyone... Who is it?" He asked.

I shook my head frantically at the man, hoping he'd get the jist.

"He asks me not to tell you." The man replied after looking over at me.

John laughed, "Another fan, innit?"