⇾ 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈

Chapter Thirty-Three: Each Time We Fight We Make Up a Little Bit Stronger

April 10, 1964

The scene seemed to go on forever. The second I wanted it to stop, it didn't. It was beginning to weigh heavy on me that I needed to ask Brian to come to dinner with me tomorrow night soon. We were almost done on set, and afterwards, I would have a chance.

Finally, it was done. A few more people, including Brian, gathered around when the director began to talk to us. I didn't hear a word of what he said. My mind was too preoccupied. My eyes instinctively landed on Donna sitting off in the corner. She had my leather jacket pulled around her. She'd insisted on wearing it today instead of one of her own. I wasn't complaining. After all, if I couldn't wear it, then someone should. She hadn't come over to where all the people had gathered up, perhaps not wanting to be caught in such a crowd. Instead, she had stayed where she'd just been standing next to Brian.

I looked back towards the group when someone shoved me in the arm, hard—Paul. I gave him my signature "What the Hell?" look and he nodded towards Richard Lester. I reluctantly kept my eyes trained on him after that. I still didn't catch a word he said, though.

As soon as he looked away, Paul turned to me. "What's wrong with you today?" he asked. "You seem so distant."

"Oh, McCartney, you're the last person in the world I'd share my problems with," I replied, smiling sarcastically.

"Fine then," he said stubbornly. "I'll ask Donna."

"No, no, no! Don't do that!" I said, perhaps too quickly.

"Don't do what?" Bloody hell. Paul looked at me expectantly.

I turned to face a very confused Donna. "Nothing, love," I said. I knew she wasn't convinced, though.

"Sure sounded like something," she mumbled.

"It's nothing, really. I'm ready to leave whenever you are," I said to her with a smile.

"Oh, well, alright. I'm just going—you know what? Never mind. If you're going to keep things from me, then I'll keep things from you. I'll be ready in a minute." She turned and left without waiting for a reply.

Fuck, I thought to myself.

"John?" I turned back to Paul irritatedly.

"Yes, Paul?" I asked.

He opened his mouth for a moment, then decided not to speak. "Sorry," he said simply.

"Nothing I can't fix." I turned away from him to search desperately for Brian.

"Why don't you want to tell her, though?" he asked.

"Because," I said. "It's supposed to be a surprise for her."

"John, are you—?" Paul began, grinning.

"Don't say anything, Paul," I said, not confirming, nor denying what I knew he was about to say. Instead, I left the scene, going off towards Brian, who had just finished talking to someone. Donna still wasn't in the room, I noticed, and felt a little twinge of guilt. I wish I could just tell her what I was doing so she wouldn't be so worried about it. That's not how it worked though.