𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘽𝙀𝘼𝙏𝙇𝙀𝙎 𝙄𝙈𝘼𝙂𝙄𝙉𝙀𝙎

𝐣𝐮𝐥𝐢𝐚 • 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 • 𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧

era: 1972 (post beatles)
name: hallie

as i sat down at the small table at the outside new york diner, i pulled out a magazine and waited for the server to come round. it was around seven or eight in the morning, a sunny day in new york on a warm mayday.

my eyes carefully scanned the intriguing paper full of lies, not noticing who coyly sat right at the table next to me, alone. i hastily slammed the magazine down and straightened my baby blue skirt that hitched its way up my knee. i was pissed off because of made-up lies about my absolute favourite musician, john lennon.

the magazine stated that he hated paul mccartney, his former band member. it even included an imaginary conversation that a "source" gave them.

as the waitress came to my table, her eyes were widened and cheeks were red. "what can i get you?"

i ordered a coffee and a vegan pancake, smiling kindly at her before she left. she took my menu and rushed away. i threw the magazine my best friend geanie gave me back in my pink bag and fixed my white blouse so it didn't get wrinkled.

from next to me, i heard a low voice say, "rough day?"

i chuckled, placed my head in my hands and sighed. "yeah..."

my day wasn't bad just because of the magazine, it went beyond that. my ex-boyfriend wouldn't stop calling my phone, my manipulative mother wouldn't stop complaining over the phone about my father and how she couldn't wait for them to divorce.

and on top of all that, the blouse i was wearing had a huge pink stain over my left shoulder. i knocked into a mental guy on the street who was chugging a pepto bismol.

"me too," the voice spoke again. "is this seat taken?"

i shook my head and waited for the clinking of the metal on the floor to look up. i felt my insides shift momentarily when i recognized the man. he was in the magazine i'd just read!

my mood instantly changed from depressed to unbelievably happy. but, i didn't let it show. i knew he got enough recognition every day, so i didn't mention the fact that he was john lennon.

i looked him up and down; he wore a pair of loose black pants, a black button-up shirt and a hat that shielded his face from anyone who didn't see him from the front. he also wore a cool pair of black sunglasses, notifying me he didn't want to be recognized.

"i'm john," he held his hand for me to shake.

"hallie." i shook it, taking in his scent as the air blew my way. he smelled just like a campfire.

he looked at me expectantly, as if he thought i would immediately know who he was. not in a cocky, arrogant way, just like he knew it was coming. when i didn't show any signs of being a crazed fan, his face relaxed, and his body language did, too.

"what brings you here on this fine afternoon?" he mused, taking a sip of the water he stole from my side of the table.

i laughed heartily, and quietly. john lennon was sitting in front of me, asking me a question.

"my feet," i joked.

he chuckled softly and closed his eyes. "shoulda known."

"how about you?"

"a taxi," he quipped.

john wiped his nose as he said this, so ordinarily hilarious. i'd never seen him in a natural state, always performing or in an interview. here, he was happy, peaceful and quieter than usual.

i laughed at his response as he did mine, politely picking up my bag to shakily grab a reusable bottle full of almond milk i used for my coffee.

"what's that?" he curiously asked.

i held it up so he could look at it. "almond milk. i'm vegan, so i don't drink regular milk, and i like my coffee with it."

his eyebrows raised as i explained this to him. "vegan?"

"yeah, no meat, dairy, poultry, honey or seafood!" i informed him. although he probably knew, i told him anyways.

he quietly made a "hmm" noise and looked at the bottle. "i'm vegetarian- well, sort of vegetarian," he said.

"how's that working for you?" i nodded at his hands, which were covered in grease. i could tell he'd had something fried that day, so i just guessed it was meat.

he gasped and covered his hands. "how'd you know i had fried chicken today?"

i lightly laughed and shrugged, saying only, "i guessed."

he lowered his suspicions and laughed along with me. i wanted to bring up the fact he was a beatle at one point, but i didn't quite know how to start the conversation.

so, i started with his solo work. "i really love your song imagine," i casually said after a moment of silence.

"thank you," he smiled and looked down at his now-clean hands since he wiped them off. "i like that one, too."

i grinned, taking it as i could talk about his work without coming on too strongly as a fan, even though i was convinced i was his biggest.

"and give peace a chance," i added. "those two have always been my favourite."

john looked to his bottom left and gave a genuine smile, teeth and all. "i really appreciate it. i love hearing from fans," he told me. "i assume you liked my work in the beatles, too."

i thought back to when i was only in high school when the beatles were introduced. as a young fourteen-year-old, i thought john lennon was the best thing invented.

"i used to be obsessed with the beatles, and i had your posters all over my walls," he laughed at this. "i think my brother and i went as the beatles with his friends for halloween back in sixty-seven," i said, trying to seem as calm as possible.

"who did you go as?" he asked with intent. now, he was half leaned over the table, staring deep into my hazel eyes.

i laughed, remembering the conversation between my brother and i. "they made me go as george because he had long brown hair like me!"

john gave a small giggle at this, ironically shoving a hand through his hair and combing it. the waitress arrived just at the right time, placing the coffee on the table and the pancake in front of me.

"enjoy!" she said, scurrying back to the kitchen.

when i saw that john had nothing to eat, i offered him my pancake, saying, "you can have my pancake,"

he shook his head and smirked. "i had chicken, remember?"

i sarcastically chortled and poured the milk into my coffee. "i actually learned your song, julia, on the piano when it first came out," i told him.

he looked quite impressed at this, but my twenty-three-year-old eyes could've been seeing things.

"really?" he said unbelievingly. "that's amazing," his liverpudlian accent rang through my ears. "would you like to come to my apartment one day and show me?"

i thought he was joking at first, but when i looked up to see the serious look on his face, i began to internally freak out.

"you mean it?" i asked whole-heartedly with my eyebrows knitted together.

he nodded his head, saying, "well, why not? y'seem harmless enough to me..."