12-08-80

.6.

The next morning I woke up to crashing. I heard a whooshing sound and then John swearing. I pushed myself up from the bed and walked sleepily to the kitchen. I saw John beat the last of the flames bursting from my stove top.

I stood in the hallway entrance stunned. "What did you?!" I yelled.

John turned in surprise to me. "Uh. Julian. I was um, making breakfast..." He sighed. "But I haven't worked an oven in years. They seem worlds different." He chuckled. John sat down at the table and buried his head in his forearms. I surveyed the kitchen. My frying pan laid on the stove top with a slab of burnt....something in it.

There seemed to be no real damage. I walked up and sat beside John. "It's okay. I don't even really know how to use it that well."

John sat up. "I wanted to thank you for helping me, but there's not much I remember how to do I guess." He sighed.

I nodded with a half smile. "An autograph would suffice." I joked.

"Really?" John laughed.

"Sure." I laughed. "I mean I get to spend a week with you, what more could I ask for?"

John smiled. "Why thank you. I think you're about the only person your age who would still like to spend a week with me." John leaned back in his chair.

"No. You've got lot's of teenage fans." I informed him.

"I doubt that. All the teenagers now a days are all about technology. No one cares about the real world any more."

"That's not true." I said defensively. "Well, that is true for most of the teenage population, but there are so many teens out there who belong in the sixties." 

"Show me." John made a jab at me.

"Okay, I will. I stood up and went to the living room where I found my laptop and brought it into the kitchen. I set it in front of John and pull up the screen.

"I like your...computer?" John asked.

"Yes, a laptop. and thank you." The top of my computer was grey. But you couldn't see it. It was covered in stickers that featured the Monkees and the Beatles. 

I went into Chrome and typed in Wattpad. I logged in and searched for as many john Lennon fan fictions as I could. Then I showed him the imagines, preferences, inspirational quotes, and song lyric books. He stared at them in awe. And on several occasions he took the computer from me and looked through things himself. 

Finally I showed him my profile. He read through the book I had written about him.

"It's not too accurate, but I didn't know you personally so I could never be expected to write a perfect story about you." I rambled.

"It's pretty good though. Real close to reality. I enjoyed it." John complimented.

"Well thank you. I tried." I laughed.

John handed me my computer. I turned it off.

"That's amazing." He sighed. "I didn't think anyone ever listened to me anymore."

"Nope. No ones that dumb." I chuckled.

"You know you're not that funny," John said. I was genuinely hurt.

"What-"

"You didn't let me finish." John laughed. "You're not that funny, but the faces you make when you say things are the greatest! You know physical comedy is the best type of comedy." John laughed.

I wasn't sure if he meant to be insulting or not. "Thank you." I said. "Um, why don't I try making breakfast." I stood up and pulled out some oatmeal from the cabinet.

"I'll get on that autograph." John laughed.

"Oh! Could you sign my Monkees note book?"

"The one from last night?" He asked.

"That's the one!" I confirmed. "I think it's on the counter over here." I said but when I looked where I thought it had been, it was gone.

"I, um, know where it is." John said and stood from the table. He walked to the living room and came back with the notebook.

"Why was it in there?" I asked accusingly.

"Don't look so surprised." He said as he dropped the note book on the table. "Yes I read it. But I already knew what it was about and I THOUGHT I knew the ending." He said apologetically.