|The Time Of My Life
Author: The Starkiller PM
"If I told you what you want to hear, 'Oh, being the fifth Beatle was so fab all the time', I'd be lying to you. We all know I find it physically impossible to lie. But... It was the time of my life." From start to finish, she was there. Here's the story of The Beatles, through the eyes of Holly McFarlane, best friend of Paul McCartney. George Harrison/OC. John Lennon/OC.Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Friendship - Chapters: 64 - Words: 66,447 - Reviews: 66 - Favs: 17 - Follows: 14 - Updated: 05-19-13 - Published: 08-06-12 - id: 8402341
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Got My Mind Set On You
~1958, Liverpool, England~
"Where are you two going?" Paul's dad asked us as we went out the door. Paul looked behind him as he opened the door for both of us.
"Holl and I are going to John's." His father nodded, though from his face I could tell he had met this John character that Paul endlessly went on about and didn't approve of him.
"Two hours," he said. "It's a school night." We stepped outside the door, and started walking.
"Holl, you are going to love the band," Paul said enthusiastically. My friend had been going on about his new band "The Quarrymen" nonstop for ages. I rolled my eyes.
"Paul, I love all rock and roll, of course I'll love the band."
"You know that's not what I meant," Paul said. "They're a pretty cool group of guys, I think you'll like them." We finally reached John's house, and Paul knocked on the door. You could hear the loud talking (yelling is probably a better term for it) from outside perfectly clear.
"Paulie!" said the guy who answered the door. "'Bout fuckin' time you show up-" Then he noticed me. And believe me, I noticed him. He had thin light brown eyes that seemed to hold a permanent bored expression, a slightly hooked nose, thin lips, and his hair was greased back in a DA similar to Paul's.
"Erm,- is this your friend you said you were going to bring?" he asked, while looking at me as though he was trying to read me. I could tell what he was thinking: How dare he bring a bird to our sacred practice! Paul nodded.
"John Lennon, this is my best mate, Holly McFarlane." John nodded and held out his hand, and I shook it.
"So you're Paul's new bitch? He hasn't talked about someone so much since he met George," I said as Paul rolled his eyes.
John grinned, "Wonderful to meet you too". He let us in, and Paul left me to unload his stuff and greet the other Quarrymen.
"So," John said, trying to get rid of the awkward silence. "Paul never said that you were a bird, but he did say that you play. You interested in jamming with us tonight?"
"Yeah. I pretty much taught McCartney how to play," I answered. "But I didn't know I would get to have a chance, otherwise I would have brought my guitar." Then Paul chimed in with "Yes I did say she was a bird!" as a response to John's earlier statement about my female status, but John had already disappeared into the inner depths of the house, 'Mendips', his aunt's house. We were stuck on the screened in porch, because Paul explained that she didn't want the noise in her house, and always made John play outside. While he was gone, Paul introduced me to the other Quarrymen.
"Holl, this is Pete and Stu, and you obviously know George." I smiled and chatted with them. John soon reappeared with two guitar cases in his hands. He handed me the one in his left hand, and to my dismay, it was an acoustic guitar, instead of my preferred electric. I was fine with acoustic, which I had played most of my life, but a few months before I had finally gotten an electric guitar and had since almost completely refused to play anything but an electric guitar.
"Oh, John, another thing: Holly prefers to play electric, not acoustic," Paul said, surveying my expression.
"Well, when she proves to me she can play at all, then I'll let her touch my baby," John said skeptically.
I picked up the guitar and said "Icky, acoustic!" sarcastically. I retuned the guitar for John, who obviously hadn't grasped the concept of tuning a guitar. After tuning the guitar properly, I performed "That's Alright", Elvis Presley style in my effort to gain access to John's 'baby'. I wiggled my hips at the right moments. I finished, and John tried to hide the look on his face that said I'm impressed. For a bird.
I bowed and said "Thank you, thank you very much." John rolled his eyes, and handed over his electric guitar. Then, warming myself up, I played something a little bit advanced for the late '50's. Everyone's eyes were wide, except for Paul's, who was more than used to it, since he lived with me and all, and George's, because he and I used to play together all the time so we could improve each other's skills. Then, once the initial shock wore off, we all got back together for a huge jam session. It was amazing.
When we left, Paul asked me, "Was I right or not?"
I nodded, "Yeah, you were right." Well, of course they're cool. All I was thinking, though, was, That John kid is... wow, damn...