you really got a hold on me | john lennon

CHAPTER FOUR

Night of July 31st, 1959

John was looking at the both of us with so much rage,  that I felt I would melt under his stare. He was clenching his knuckles so tight that they were turning white. John picks up all his stuff and walks to the door, staying silent. That was the scariest part of John's anger. If he wasn't saying anything then you know just how furious he was.

He opens the front door, and just before leaving, John bitterly utters a few words. "Paul and you have nothing to hide, huh?"

I remember what I had told him after we ate at the diner on Thursday. Bad fucking timing. Paul wraps both his arms around me as I rest my head on his chest. I feel Paul's head atop of mine shortly after.

"Nat, I'm so so sorry. You want me to go after 'im?"

I look up at him with misty eyes and respond, "No, no. I should go. You know how bad John's temper gets."

Paul bites his lip and looks to the floor. "That's why I think you shouldn't go after him. Let me."

God knows what John would do to Paul in this state - especially when his anger was sourced directly to Paul and me. After thinking for a minute, I say, "No, I'm goin' Paul. Just stay here, I'll be back."

I run out the door and look around for any sign of John frantically. I'm about to give up when I don't see anything - but then I see a figure not too far away from me to my left. Running as fast as I possibly could, I finally reach who I think is John. Meekly, I question, "John?"

"Piss off, Natalie." John says in a raspy voice as he keeps walking away, not facing me.

"No! John just listen to me, will you?"

"Just go back to fucking snogging with McCartney.

"You don't know what happened."

He stops and turns around, his teeth clenched. John replies, "I'm probably not the smartest guy - but I can tell when I'm being made out as an idiot."

Biting the side of my lip, I try to think of things to say. We did make him out as an idiot. Not purposely, sure. But either way, we still did.

I struggled to make words that led to John scoffing. "And all this time I thought you were someone I could trust. But you're just like the rest of them."

My heart feels like it sinks to the lowest place possible. John had experienced so much shite in his life. Not having a father-figure, losing his mother whom he just had rekindled his relationship with. Hell, none of this was fair. And now, him losing his trust in me and Paul.

Quietly, I answer, "You can trust me, John."

His eyes seem to soften a bit before they go back to a hard gaze. Turning his back to me he starts to leave when he says, "I thought I could."

John starts to walk away again before he was no longer in my sight. This was all my fault.

. . .

August 1st, 1959

My heart was still aching from last night, but I realized that I didn't need his approval on everything. John was our best mate, and if he couldn't be happy for us, then so be it. I also finished all the work the bloody school gave me before class already started, so I basically had a month off to think about things.

I had left some stuff at Paul's, so I headed there this morning to get them. Even though I thought Jim would because of how early it was, Paul came out and opened the door. His hair was going in all different directions, and his eyes were still half-closed.

He grumbles something, but I can only make out the word "morning" with the long thing he said.

"Uh good morning to you too, Paul. I just came back here for some of my stuff."

Rubbing his eyes, Paul finally fully wakes up. "Oh, Natalie. Morning." He lets me in as I pick up my coat from last night. I'm about to turn around when I feel Paul's arms wrap around my waist.

"Hm, you feeling better after last night? You didn't come back after going after John."

"Yeah, I'm alright. Just was a bit frazzled. I didn't want to cause any more trouble for you."

"Hey, don't ever think you're a bother, Nat. Come here whenever."

I look over my shoulder and smile. Such a sweetheart he was. I take Paul's arms off of my waist, and I walk to the door about to leave. But then I feel a grasp on my wrist.

"Wanna stay for some tea and breakfast?"

"Paul, can you even cook?"

"Didn't say I was the one cooking, did I?"

"Oh, Paul," I respond as I slap my palm to my forehead. I walk to the kitchen and start to get some stuff out of the fridge when I hear a knock on the door. Knowing he would get it, I continue to try and search for some eggs.

"Paul where are your eggs?" I yell out. No response. Peering my head through the opening from the kitchen to the dining area, I look at who Paul was talking to. Not being able to see who it was, I walked to where Paul was.

When I get there, I find out exactly why Paul didn't respond. It was Dot. The split second I came her face changed from one with distaste to one with fake delight.

"'Ello Natalie."

"Hi, Dot. How are you?" Knowing damn well she probably wasn't feeling the best.

"Excellent," Dot answers through a plastic smile. I laugh nervously and walk back to the kitchen. Paul and Dot start their conversation back up, and I hear Paul say, "What're you doing here so early?"

"I could ask the same about your visitor."

"C'mon, don't be like that. Nat's my best mate and she's going through something rough right now."

After that I started to cook, not wanting to hear the rest of the conversation which seemed to start getting ugly. After a solid fifteen minutes, I heard the door slam shut, right as I finished cooking.

Plating everything, I place it on the table where Paul was already sitting. He started to examine the plate before asking innocently, "Where're the eggs?"

"Sorry, I couldn't find them. But next time I'll make it up to you."

I sit down on the opposite side of him as we eat silently, not talking about what happened between him and Dot. Right as I started to clean up the phone rang for who knows why this early. Paul picks it up before rolling his eyes. I raise my eyebrow in confusion about what had happened before he hangs up.

"Everything alright, Paul?"

He sighs and rubs his head in his state of annoyance. Still frustrated, he replies, "John fucking Lennon happened, Natalie. We gotta go take the bus, come on."

a/n: hope you enjoyed this chapter! drama, amirite? 😬✌️