Chapter 1

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WORDS: 1502

Paul's POV

Paul McCartney was taking a walk around his neighborhood. He had to clear his head. He had just come home from a long evening at one of the Beatles concerts and he was beat. Sometimes, walking helps him think straight, it also helped to think of new lyrics to a song he's currently writing with John, so he walked quite often.

It was a very peaceful night around. Almost every night, he watched the sun go down and always enjoyed the sun setting. Sometimes, he would miss it because he was too beat to actually walk outside. And on the colder nights, he would just sit on his porch smoking a cigarette.

This was one of the warmer nights so he didn't bring a jacket with him. Paul's neighbors know not to mess with him or ask for autographs after he's done a concert. He usually didn't want to deal with any more fans considering, every time after a concert, he can't get the screaming from fans out of his head.

Paul put his hands in his pockets. I wonder what the others are doing now. Paul began to question. Maybe taking a kip. George seemed exhausted, Ringo still had energy, and I really can't tell how John was doing. Why does he have to hide his emotions?

Paul usually could always read people. He knew when something was up with George or Ringo because he always paid attention. But John was a different story. He never showed any emotions whether he was feeling sad, or exhausted. Then there were those times when he clearly showed that he was happy or mad. When he is always mad, it startles Paul.

He had alot of things running through his head. All the stresses of today and the concert was all too much for Paul. Now, he questioned why he took a walk instead of going to bed because exhaustion was just starting to hit him, so he began walking home.

After a few minutes, he turned the corner and was almost home when someone stopped him.

"Excuse me."

Paul turned around but all he saw was a dark figure approaching him. "Yeh?"

"Are ye Paul McCartney?"

"That depends. Who's asking?"

"A fan. Would ye give me an autograph?"

Paul hesitated for a moment. "Uh, sure I guess so."

As Paul approached, he was handed a picture of himself to sign. "Yer a fan of mine?"

"Yeh. Yer my favorite."

"Good to know." Paul said as he signed the picture and handed it back to him.

"What's yer name? I don't think I got it before."

"Wouldn't ye like to know."

Before Paul knew what was happening, he was laying down on the sidewalk holding the side of his head as he felt a sudden headache. Then, he felt another blow to his head, this time, it was harder. After the third hit, it took a few seconds for Paul to lose consciousness.

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John's POV

John was talking to his wife on the phone. She had gone to the United States with their son but John couldn't go because of the concert. Even though he was tired, he never goes a day without talking to Cynthia. After he hung up the phone, he didn't have the energy to go to his own bedroom so he took it upon himself to try and sleep on the couch.

A few minutes had passed. He was still awake. He couldn't shake a bad feeling he had. He didn't know why he was having this bad feeling but he did. He didn't have it at the concert. It was only after.

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