My Love, My Drug, My Release

January 30th, 1969

When I first saw the boys running around like wild mice, I assumed someone had accidentally deleted some crucial recordings or they'd taken cocaine, but then John ran up to me and physically lifted me off the ground by underarms, swinging me around like a ragdoll.

"You did it kid, you're a bloody genius!" 

"Uh, thanks, why am I a genius?"

He put me down, grabbing my face, palms smushing my cheeks (still full with the last bits of baby fat) together affectionately. "Remember when you said you wanted to see a Beatles concert, and you were sad you couldn't because we aren't performing anymore? Well guess what; you're gonna see one today!"

"Where?" 

He pointed to the ceiling, and I looked up at the chipping white paint, puzzled. "On the roof! A rooftop concert!"

"But how-"

"No time to explain, there's too much to do, but it will all make sense soon Rainy, I promise."

His use of his and Yoko's special nickname for me was enough to keep me from bemoaning the tantalizing premise presented with none of the juicy details, so I just crossed my arms, giggling as he ran off across Abbey Road, long hair flying behind him. Compared to him, his bandmates looked much more subdued in their anticipation. John had the magical ability to only see the potential of things, not the little snags one might encounter on the way to greatness.

"Wow, aren't you just the bestest girl in the world," Jack drawled sarcastically, swaggering up next to me with all his usual arrogance. "I knew you were Linda's favorite kid, but I didn't know you were Lennon's too."

"What the hell did he do to get himself on a last name basis with you?" 

"I wouldn't be so smug if I were you," he said, walking around to face me, blocking my view of the Beatles preparing for the rooftop concert. "I'm sure all your mommies and daddies wouldn't think so highly of you if they knew who you were fucking, like I do." My face went white, and he smirked, folding his arms. "I hope you know you're just a flavor of the month to Brandon, you don't mean anything to him. He goes through girl after girl, he's just in it for the chase, and it's frankly disgusting you'd give up your virtue to someone like him."

"You're wrong," I whispered, even as tears pricked my eyes.

"Whatever you say, Rainy." 

Then I watched my brother saunter across the studio, coat over his arm, and walk right out the front door, but everyone else, including Linda, was too consumed with their own tasks to notice.

Instead of using my dinky, old jacket, Maureen, Ritchie's wife, swathed me in a brown fur coat that probably cost more than rent for a year at Brandon and Chaz's apartment. After what Jackson said, I couldn't help but think of everything in terms of my boyfriend. Every roadie with medium-length brown locks looked like him from behind and sitting on the roof in my fur coat, wind blowing my hair around, made me think back to all those cigarettes we shared on his windowsill. I almost wanted to tell Jack about our plans to run away to France and get married just to shut him up. Brandon pledged himself to me; I couldn't be a 'flavor of the month'.

John and Goerge were both wearing fur coats similar to the ones the girls had thrown on, Ritchie was in what looked like a red rain slicker, but Paul only had a black suit jacket over his button-up shirt and vest. Perhaps that massive, fluffy beard he had grown would keep him warm. 

When he caught me looking at him, Paul threw me a wink and strummed his guitar suggestively. Before I waved in response, I saw he was interacting with Linda, obviously.

"Where's your brother?" Pattie was sitting on the other side of me, wearing a black fur coat, her wispy blonde hair pulled back into a high ponytail, nose and cheeks tinged pink with the cold; she was a thousand times prettier than I'd ever be and looked that way practically by accident.

"Oh, I think he went out for a cuppa," I said offhandedly.

"Does your mother know?" she asked, looking past me at Linda, who couldn't hear our private conversation over the wind.

"No, and I think Jack wants to keep in that way, if you don't mind."

She nodded, looking a bit uncomfortable with keeping a secret, but got distracted by Maureen and then started gossiping about someone I didn't know. 

Yoko was sitting on the other side of Linda, but I'd rather be beside her than my stepmom, especially now that Linda was making lovey-dovey eyes with Paul and Pattie was talking to Mo, leaving me to sit quietly by myself. The coat was so warm, if it weren't for the wind cutting into my face, would've just curled up and gone to sleep right there.

"Alright, we're ready," someone called from behind the amps.

They started off with a song I'd heard before, 'Get Back'. It was peppy and upbeat, but with a maturity to it that they didn't have in their earlier records. Even though I'd grown up on Hard Days Night and With the Beatles, I'd found myself warming to this adult style.

After three takes of the first song, they started on 'Don't Let Me Down' and I felt Linda's hand slip into mine. I looked up to see her wipe away a stray tear. She didn't usually get emotional like this, but I was glad she shared it with me. It was clear that this song was written for both her and Yoko, John and Paul sharing the lead vocals.

For the first time, I appreciated how thin and elegant Paul looked in that suit, the jacket tapering in at his waist, legs long and narrow. His hair was so dark and shiny, angular mouth framed by that almost ridiculously long beard. He sang with a bite to his voice, passion flowing through each word, his eyes sparkling with joy, so happy to be performing in front of people again. Hindsight is 20/20, but it still blows my mind that I didn't know I was in love with him then, that the inventory I took of his face and body and movement were loaded with desire, not just sexual, but sensual, aesthetic, romantic, flooding my blood with hormones. But he and Linda weren't even married yet, and I was set to run away with Brandon, so those thoughts stayed hidden inside, bubbling just under the surface, waiting for the right moment to explode out of me...