Risky Woohoo

15 | Under Pressure

1957, July
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"Do you have to go?" I complained, crossing my arms over my chest. "Yes, Ann. I'm in a band now, I've got to be in it, right?"

We were standing by the front entrance, saying our reluctant goodbyes. Only mere days after they met, John had invited Paul into The Quarrymen. Paul was ecstatic, and so I was I of course, but I was upset with the idea I would probably see less of him.

Paul's first performance with the band was tomorrow. John had apparently insisted they'd practice as much as they could the day before the gig, with a new member and all.

"Just don't be all day, please." I begged. "You know I can't promise-" Paul stopped abruptly, biting his lip. He quickly scanned the room, slowly forming a smirk on his lips. "I won't, love." He said, leaning forward to plant a quick peck on my lips.

He was out the door before he could see the huge grin on my face.
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After we kissed this wonderful morning, I was sure my heart would explode.

Not only was it my first kiss, but just having him so close to me felt so wonderfully good. I wanted him every second of the day, everyday. And I knew it was selfish of me to think that way, but I couldn't help myself.

My desire for his presence was so strong, I began wondering, perhaps... I loved him.

I had loved people before. I loved my mother and at some points in my life I even loved William. But never had I lead anyone so close to me to feel the same way I did towards Paul.

I stroked a few digits over my lips, suddenly craving his touch. His lips were so beautiful. Mine, they were big and always at least a little chapped. Oh, but how perfectly they seemed to fit together.

His eyes, they were so big and pretty, full of secrets and curiosities. And he always styled his hair so handsomely, like Elvis, he told me.

Even his nose was beautiful. And his fingers, too.

Sometimes I would lay in bed and watch him undress, suddenly realising I had been biting my lip blue.

Sometimes when he was away, I clutched my pillow and I could still smell his scent. I couldn't get over how beautiful Paul was, no matter time of day or attire. He was beautiful because his soul was beautiful. Even I realise how cliché that sounds.

I reminisced the fear I had before Paul and Jim moved in. Maybe the rumours about Paul weren't true. Maybe he didn't get all the girls. I for sure knew they wanted him, but perhaps he didn't want them.

At least he never brought a girl home. Emphasis on home. I wouldn't've known, I don't think he would've told me.
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Will suddenly burst through the bedroom door, and I was so startled I nearly threw my book across the room. His face was bloody red and his hair was sticking to his skin. "Oh, good, here y- Where's Paul?" I was caught off guard, stumbling on my words as I tried to sit up straight. "Band practice." I managed to blurt out.

"Fuck." He spat as he leaned back against the doorframe, running a hand through his sweaty hair, his chest heaving. "What's wrong?" I asked worriedly. Will closed his eyes as a shaky sigh left his mouth. "Jim, he- he's... I don't know what's happened to him..."

He gulped and glanced my way. "I think he's on his way here, but- I saw him at a pub, shouting utter profanities about how unfair and cruel- y'know." He dragged a hand down his face, raising his head to ceiling before continuing. "H-he said that- that... It's your fault."

He came towards me and laid a hand on my shoulder. "I think he's gone mad, Ann." His eyes were wide open in a panicked expression. My breathing became quicker. Something about my brother's mannerism frightened me to death.

"H-he said it's your's... and Paul's fault. I ran here as fast as I could." Will rolled his eyes to the back of his head as he remembered something. "God, and I left Rosie there, she'll be ending it, I just know it."

"What are you saying?" I asked anxiously. Will took my arm and dragged me up from my seat on the bed, beginning to lead me downstairs. "What I'm saying is-" he began sternly. "Is that we should get out of here."
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Huh huh, what