My Love, My Drug, My Release

Paul's Perspective

Fair warning, this chapter is a little darker than some of the other chapters in terms of Paul crossing a line, as always, read at your own discretion.

Lorraine decided to invite Thelma to stay overnight without bothering to ask me, which didn't matter, it wasn't like we had an intimate encounter last night, and then again this morning. When Linda returned home to see the drunken state was in, she took Mary upstairs without a word and bolted the door, as though she was afraid of me, the ungrateful whore. Everything that bitch had was because of me. 

Feeling bored and lonely, I poked my head into Lo's room, only to see that she was asleep, dark hair splayed over her pillow, but Thelma was nowhere to be found. Then, across the hall, I heard the shower turn on. She must've wanted to use the one outside Lo's room so as not to wake her up. What a thoughtful friend. I tiptoed to the bathroom and touched the door gently. It creaked open- she hadn't bothered to lock it. Probably thought no one would be stupid enough to walk into a room where they could hear the shower running. 

"Is someone there?" she asked, even though I'd been quiet as a mouse. Maybe she felt the draft.

"It's Paul," I said. "Sorry, I've got to take a leak."

"Um, okay," she said, audibly confused, even over the shower water.

"Don't worry; I'll do it in the sink." Seeing my reflection in the medicine cabinet made my dizziness even worse than before. "When you flush the toilet, it makes the shower water go cold, so I won't do that."

"Thanks."

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered if this was inappropriate. Thelma was a teenager and practically a stranger; she probably felt uncomfortable with a grown man peeing in the sink while she showered. But mostly, I didn't fucking care. All day, every day, I got bossed around by women: by Linda, Lo, even Mary in her own way. Something about getting back at them via Thelma made me feel strong, powerful, masculine.

Blood pumping faster than usual, I hooked my finger around the white shower curtain, pulling it aside and looking at the naked girl in front of me.

Immediately, she whipped around and attempted to conceal herself. "What are you doing?"

"You're so beautiful," I slurred. "I wanted to see you."

"That's fucking weird, go away."

I didn't respond, eyes traveling along her wet body. Her tits were bigger than Lo's and hung lower with larger nipples. She looked older, more mature and experienced, like a pricy, Parisian hooker, pale skin tinged pink from the steaming water. I reached out a hand to touch her, but Thelma slapped it hard, teeth bared.

"Are you out of your mind?" she hissed. Between her legs, I could see the carpet definitely matched the drapes. God, I love blondes. "I'm a bloody child, leave me alone." 

"C'mon, don't be like that. No one has to know." I leaned in closer, running my tongue over my lower lip. "You can tell all your friends you shagged a Beatle."

"Dude, no one cares about you anymore. You're washed up," she said. "No leave, or I'll scream."

No one cares? Who the fuck did this bitch think she was? Nobody, that's who she was, because nobody said no to me. She wasn't even pretty; sure she had a tight body, but her face was lopsided, pinched, she looked like a real cunt. "I didn't even really want to fuck you," I spat. "It was a joke, you stupid bitch." I turned to leave, but before I did, I added, "And I don't want you hanging around Lorraine either." 

I left, trying to get back into my room, but remembered the door was locked. I pounded on it with my fist. "Goddamn it Linda, let me in." When she didn't respond, I continued until Mary started wailing. 

Cursing under my breath, I jogged downstairs, grabbing a bottle of whiskey and shutting myself in the music room. When I saw early copies of my new LP lying around, I flew into a rage, throwing them on the ground, smashing and stomping on them, bashing up the record player and a guitar as well. Why was I being punished? I hadn't done anything wrong. This was bullshit! Bullshit, bullshit, BULLSHIT!

Short, but pretty intense, I think. Not sure how I feel about it. Part of me thinks it's important to the story, but I'm a bit on the fence. I think mostly this will inform Thelma and Lo's relationship more than Paul's character.

Another thing I wanted to ask you all about is way more upbeat. The other Beatles fic I'm working on, 'The Girl Who Changed Everything' is almost finished, finally. I'm probably going to wrap it up within the next month (another ten chapters or so), and then I'm going to start another story, and I wanted to know what you guys wanted me to do. The three main ideas I had were a. a Rolling Stones fanfic since there are basically none of those out there, b. a collection of short stories/imagines about classic rock musicians, but with my own twist on it ;) , and, of course, another Paul story or Beatles story in genreal, maybe one about George or John that takes place during Beatlemania. I want to write stories that you guys will enjoy, so I'd super duper appreciate any suggestions, and if you want something I didn't mention, throw it out there, I'm all ears.

I also was thinking about publishing a book that I'd update less frequently that acts as a guide for writers. A few of you asked me for advice on your stories (which I loved doing, btw!!!), and that gave me the idea that maybe I could just put all my tips and tricks for writing into one book. That would be in addition to doing another story-story. 

Sorry for this author's note that's low-key longer than the chapter, but we had a lot to discuss, thanks for your time, it means the world!!!