𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐂𝐫𝐲 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐝

𝑜𝑛𝑒

december 8, 1980

j.l

"john! linda is on the phone for you." yoko yelled out to me. i was in the music room trying to finish up a new song i was working on.

"alright! i'm comin' i'm comin'." yoko handed me the phone as I made way to the kitchen.

"linda? well... this is odd. i haven't spoken to you or paul in a few years."

she was quiet, but I heard sniffling as if she was trying to compose herself of something. "john, paul, he-he got shot."

...what? no. can't be. not true. i won't accept that. not him. not my paul. no.

"that isn't funny, linda," i said shakily.

"john... i wish it wasn't true, but it is. he got shot this evening leaving the studio. some sick man did it. we rushed to the hospital, but th-they couldn't save him." i could hear her faintly crying.

i didn't even notice the tears falling from my eyes. all the memories of paul and i flooded my head. from teenagers till now. the last i saw him was in 1976.

i composed myself before speaking, "linda, i-i'm so sorry. i know how much he loved you and the kids. hell, you were the best thing that had ever happened to him." i held back the tears trying to stay strong for linda.

"thank you, john. don't forget how much he loved you. even if he didn't say it, he did." a little smile formed across my face.

linda and i said our goodbyes and hung up.

i went to the living room and sat down on the couch. the tears. they started to fall more. i wasn't able to stop them. yoko came beside me and hugged me, but i didn't want her, i wanted paul.

"john... you don't have to tell me. i just saw the news. i'm so sorry. i know how close you were with him."

i scoffed through my tears, "close? close? are you fuckin' kiddin' me yoko? he and i were fuckin' brothers. he and i went through hell and back, so no, you don't know, and you never will," with that, i grabbed my coat and left the flat, and headed somewhere where i could be alone.

i shouldn't have done that. reporters, fuckin' everywhere. they all know my best mate just died, and they have the audacity to come surround me? what the hell kind of world am I living in?

"john! john! did you hear the news about paul's death?" one reporter said.

i tried to remain calm mostly because of the cameras, "yes, i did."

"how are you feeling now, mr. lennon?" another asked.

what kind of question is that?

"what do you think? i've known paul for 23 years. how do you think someone'd feel if one of their best mates died after so long of knowing them?" i spat.

so much for keeping calm.

i stormed out of there, and somewhere more remote, where i could think. i went to a park and started walking. i don't know where, but i had to get somewhere.

my mind was hurting with thoughts of paul. tears wouldn't stop coming down my face. his voice, his smile, and laugh wouldn't leave my fuckin' mind.

my head finally went to the stupid bloke who caused all this. he's going straight to hell. how much pain he's causing me, and paul's family. fuck him. if i had the chance to get my hands on that bastard...

i sat on the nearest bench from me. i sighed heavily as i sat down. my hands going through my hair multiple times. tears started calming down, but would occasionally fall.

"macca," i whispered, "if you can hear me then i want you to know that i love you... you're me best mate. you've helped me through so much," my tears started falling again, "what am i gonna do without you, macca?"

i looked up at the sky and stared at the stars. i saw one and remembered 'mary julia,' our star.

"come back, please," i cried looking into the sky.