McCartney (1968)

1964

John was furious watching the interviewer’s arm snake around Paul’s waist and tighten like a python strangling the life out of it’s victim, he watched as Paul’s jaw clenched in anger, Paul hardly ever got angry at things like this. John’s nostrils flared as he watched on, his eyes searched around the room frantically looking for Brian or Derek.

Was no one going to do anything?

His eyes met Brian’s from across the room, pleading with his eyes to step in, to tell the interviewer to let Paul go, Brian looked from John to Paul then bit his lip and slowly shook his head.

No. No one was going to do anything.

John thought back to Bob Wooler; to blood, to Paul’s horrified face, to newspaper headlines. He saw it all happening again this time in front of the press, none of whom would understand and he knew he couldn’t do anything either. So he just stood by and watched, as the interviewer joked and teased, with his arm wrapped around Paul’s waist practically groping his arse. Paul smiled, nodded and laughed along, like nothing was happening, and so did the rest of them.

---

When they were leaving, rushing off to get in the car for another interview before a radio appearance, John grabbed ahold of Paul’s arm stopping him, not letting him move on just yet.

“You alright?” John asked.

Paul met his eyes his face hauntingly blank.

“‘Course why wouldn’t I be?” Paul asked suddenly smiling, just like he’d been doing in the interview, the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes no matter how much Paul tried to force it to.

“That guy he was all over you” John whispered to Paul, trying to avoid embarrassing him “Somebody oughta teach him a lesson”.

“John, I dunno what you’re talking about” Paul said trying to walk away, as Brian was by now calling after them to hurry up so they weren’t late.

John grabbed ahold of his arm pulling him back a lot harder than he’d intended causing Paul to wince just for a second “Yes you bloody do!” John insisted. Paul tripped over himself looking at John like he was annoyed with him for holding him up.

“John…You’re imagining things nothing happened” Paul said through gritted teeth, like John hadn’t probably just hurt his arm, like he hadn’t been groped in front of a crowd and cameras. He ran over to the car, smiling to Brian and apologising before getting into the car.

“Come on John! You’re holding everyone up!” Brian said as he pulled John towards the car and practically pushed him in and onto the seat next to Paul.

Paul was staring out of the window when John entered the car at the screaming crowds holding up signs telling them how much they loved them. He stared out of the window for the entirety of the car ride, only turning to look at them with that same smile plastered on his face whenever any of them spoke to him, answering but not engaging. He kept that smile plastered on his face until he collapsed onto his hotel bed next to John’s at the end of the night after finishing off of a bottle of scotch.

1965

“No absolutely not!” Brian said, barely giving the others a chance to process what had just been said.

Capitol wanted him to make a solo album, well make was a strong word, it would mostly be Beatles songs with only his vocals on them, filled out with a few covers and new songs. Sounded like a bit of a rip off to him. He, Brian and the other Beatles had been called into a meeting at the EMI offices then this had been dropped on them by some EMI executive. As soon as he’d said it his eyes had snapped over to John, who met his eyes with hurt and anger, as if Paul had already said yes, as if it was Paul’s idea. Brian had spoken before Paul had gotten a chance to, although he’d said what Paul had wanted to. No. There was no way, even outside of how much it would hurt John and the rest of the band, he had zero interest in making music without the rest of the band, of writing without John.

“What Brian said, absolutely not” Paul added, looking back to John who was still radiating anger, Paul was trying to tell him ‘See I’m saying no, I don’t want this’ but John wouldn’t even look him in the eye.

“I would advise you to reconsider” the EMI executive said with audible frustration.

“Our projections show that it would sell as good as your last few albums, Mr McCartney’s popularity is at an all time high right now almost fifty percent of your fans say he’s their favourite of you all, and Yesterday’s at number one in the states, we need to capitalise on it as soon as possible”

“No, absolutely not” Brian said, with a sense of finality.

The executive collapsed into his leather chair at the head of the table with and put his head in his hands.

“Are we done here?” John asked, finally.

“Yes, in that case we’re done here you can go” The EMI executive said.

Before he’d even finished John had stormed out of the room, Paul chased after him.

“Well this should make the next few weeks fun, thanks for that mate” George said to the EMI executive as he and Ringo left the room.

Brain got up to leave the room.

“Will you not at least trying discussing the matter further with Mr McCartney?” The executive asked, as Brian’s hand was on the door handler.

Brian sighed “The balance between Lennon/McCartney is very delicate and I do not wish to shake things up unnecessarily and I would advise you also avoid it if you want them to keep writing hits for you”.

Brian opened the door and left the room.

----

Paul was running after John trying to explain that he hadn’t done anything, that he was going to say no before Brian had, that he didn’t want to make a solo album, that he only wanted to work with him and the other Beatles, that he’d never want to make a solo album, but John wouldn’t listen, he still saw it as a betrayal. Paul knew how he got when he was like this even if he didn’t understand it, even if it made no sense, the jealousy.

This went on for a few weeks, a cold war between them that eventually thawed as they both silently agreed to never talk about the fight again, like they always did.

EMI and Capitol didn’t listen to Brian, they still kept asking Paul about a solo album, they just didn’t tell the other Beatles about it, and Paul didn’t tell them either.

-----

1968

An awkwardness had entered the studio the first time John had brought Yoko with him and hadn’t left since, Paul had tried to explain why they didn’t want her there which had turned into an argument that ended with Paul leaving instead of Yoko. Eventually Paul realised he’d just have to get used to her being there if they wanted to get the new album out at some point. Things began to fall apart for Paul, John wouldn’t be alone with him anymore, and when The Beatles were together all they did was argue and then Jane left, and Francie was there, she moved in with him almost immediately after Jane had picked up her things.

They were all in the studio together, Paul trying to ignore the tension so strong that it made his hairs stand on end. He was showing The Beatles two of his new songs he’d written when they were all in India together, Junk and Teddy Boy, he’d already shown them to John when they were there, before things went to shit between them, before Yoko came along. Paul finished Teddy Boy with a flourish having lost himself in the song, proud of what he’d written. He looked up to the other Beatles first to George who looked incredibly unimpressed, and then to John, their eyes met briefly before John broke away and rolled his eyes.

“‘S Not good enough for the album” John said.

“What? What about Junk?” Paul asked shocked and hurt.

“That’s crap too”

“C’mon John, I thought they were both pretty good” Ringo interjected.

John shot a glare at Ringo.

“But you said- when we were in India you said you liked them, you said Junk was great even…” Paul said as he hunched over his guitar, staring at his shoes like he was a school boy again getting given a bad mark for his english paper.

John scoffed.

“I don’t remember that,” John said “Must have just been being polite, bein’ nice, didn’t want to hurt your feelings”.

“You’re never polite, you never usually care about hurting my feelings when it comes to music, you always tell me if you don’t like what I’ve written” Paul objected.

John made his way over to Yoko and kissed her gently, their lips touching only for a moment, just long enough for Paul to see it.

“Well…” John said.

Was John saying this to just to upset him? Or did Paul just not know John as well as he thought he did? He thought back to every night cuddled up together at Mendips or Forthlin, or in hotel rooms, of John holding him while he sobbed in Key West, of them looking into each other’s eyes while they tripped last year, dissolving into one another, John telling him that they shared dreams, that it was like they were one person. Maybe he hadn’t meant any of it, or maybe he just knew what it would mean to Paul for him to say those thing.

“It’s just a few of your songs not going on the album Paul, no need to make a big deal about it” George interjected, bitterness lacing his tone.

The session drifted on afterwards, Paul not quite able to move on from what had happened, his thoughts going back to it throughout the rest of the day. He tried to avoid looking at Yoko, she looked so smug sitting next to John usually, let alone after John had told him his music was crap and that he used to lie and tell him it was good.

When he finally left the studio, no one said goodbye to him. Once he’d gotten back home to Franice and Martha he realised that he couldn’t remember what he’d done in the studio for the rest of the day. He hung his coat up and called out to Francie in the other room.

“I’m home, how’s your day been?”

He saw she was lounging on the settee reading a magazine while Martha was sat on the other side of the room to her, she excitably ran over to Paul jumping up on him as soon as she saw him. His face lit up as he saw her, petting her all over.

“Hello girl” Paul cooed, talking to her like a baby.

He looked over at Francie who looked annoyed.

“Martha shit on the floor again, I had to spend half of my morning cleaning it up”

Paul looked at Martha, trying and failing to appear stern.

“Martha, what have I told you” He said pointing his finger at her “You go outside” she licked his finger and Paul had to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling, it was so hard to be cross with her. He put her down as he made his way over to sit next to Francie on the sofa. He made to lean on her, she sighed and put her magazine on the coffee table, he leaned on her as she began to run her hands through his hair, he could feel the tension in her hands but tried to ignore it.

“Did you get any writing done?” He asked.

“Not today, no” She replied.

Martha jumped onto the sofa and flopped down on Paul’s other side. Paul gently ran his fingers through her fur over and over again as much for himself as it was for her. They lay there in silence for a while.

“Things were awful in the studio today, John and I got into an argument when he said a song I wrote was crap and George just piled on” he knew how it sounded, but he couldn’t explain to Francie why what John had said had upset, he knew it was stupid.

“Paul…we both know you’re not the easiest person to work with…”

Paul shot up, causing Martha to run out of the room.

“That’s not what happened!” Paul yelled.

Francie scoffed, raising her hands defensively as she got up off the sofa.

“This is what I mean, god forbid anyone criticise you, god forbid you admit that sometimes you make shit!” Francie yelled at him.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, you barely know me or John” Paul said, trying to de-escalate and stop them from getting into yet another screaming match.

“We all lived together Paul, remember? I know John can barely stand to be around you, he told me, he told me he hates how rude you are to Yoko, I’m surprised the two of them can tolerate being around you in the studio!” She yelled.

Paul always tried to ignore her clear preference for John over him, how every argument he had with John always seemed to be Paul’s fault even if she didn’t know what it was about, how he couldn’t complain to her about Yoko being there without her calling Paul a chauvinist. She was always telling him to be nicer to John and Yoko, but he was plenty nice to John even though John didn’t return the favour. Sure, he could try more with Yoko but the truth was he didn’t want to, he wanted her to go away or at least not be with John all the time, he didn’t think ignoring her was the worse thing ever. George regularly insults Yoko to her face which Francie didn’t seem to care about. Everything Paul did seemed to do seemed to push John further away, make him hate Paul more, and everything Paul did Francie seemed to think was wrong, hell maybe she was right, everyone else seemed to think the same about him nowadays.

“I’m tired Francie, it’s been a bad day, I just wanted someone to complain to” Paul said suddenly completely exhausted, he put his hand in his pocket, feeling the weight of his pep pills in his hand, he hadn’t had one since lunch.

This seemed to make Francie more angry, her face turning red.

“I’m not going to throw you a pity party every time you get upset over nothing!” She screamed at him.

Paul collapsed onto the settee.

“Fine, I won’t talk to you about this stuff anymore then”

“Good, please don’t” she scoffed.

Francie’s eyes glanced down at his hand in his pocket.

“Christ! Just take your fucking pills, you’re a real asshole when you don’t!” She yelled at him before storming out of the room.

Paul waited a moment watching the door, waiting to make sure she wasn’t going to come back, before taking out his baggy of pills from his pocket and quickly swallowing one, he paused for a minute before deciding to take another. He hadn’t been sleeping much since John had brought Yoko into the studio for the first time, not being able to spend time alone with John anymore felt like losing a limb, he’d probably rather lose a limb. It was only natural he needed something to lessen the pain of it.

As the pills began to kick in he came up with an idea, a way to get Junk and Teddy Boy released without needing John and the other beatles to agree, a way to maybe force himself to feel whole again without needing John. He began to shake at the sudden burst of energy as the pills kicked in. He made his way over to the phone and dialed the number for Joseph Lockwood’s office, hopefully he hadn’t left for the day.

“Hello Joseph Lockwood” the voice over the phone said.

“Hello, Mr Lockwood it’s Paul McCartney, I was just wondering if you’re still wanting me to do that solo album?” Paul asked, nervously playing with a lose thread on his shirt, he felt so jittery and restless.

“Of course we are, we’d be delighted to”

Paul smiled for what felt like the first time in ages.

“And I get final say over what goes on there?” Paul asked.

“Of course” he said, before clarifying “Within reason”.

Paul could cry, he needed this, this would make him feel better, even if things were beyond fixing with John, this could help put him back together again.

“I’ll do it, as soon as possible” Paul said joyfully.

“That’s great, we’ll discuss the details when I’m in the office tomorrow” Lockwood said on the other end of the phone, seeming perhaps to overjoyed about the whole thing himself.

---

Paul arrived at the studio at the same time as John and Yoko, Francie hanging on Paul’s arm, Yoko on John’s. They’d accidentally parked right next to each other, so they had to walk down to the studio together, forced to make polite conversation about lunch plans, the weather, which engineers were going to be in the studio today. The long meaningful conversations of Paris back in 61’ seemed like a lifetime ago.

They’d hitchhiked there while wearing bowler hats to make themselves stand out, and also look less scruffy and more presentable. It had taken them days to get there, but when they finally had it had been chucking it down and they’d had to run to the nearest hotel asking for a hotel room, but they’d balked at the price so they’d spent the next few hours running from hotel to hotel through the pouring rain trying to find somewhere they could afford.

When they’d finally gotten into their hotel room they were dripping onto the floor, water having pooled in the brim of their bowler hats. They stripped down into their underwear, since they hadn’t thought to bring a change of clothes, and thrown their clothes onto the heater. Despite being already mostly naked they didn’t fool around, at least not that first night, they curled up together in the only bed in the room trying to warm each other up, holding each other, just talking for hours about everything they could think of, some things important and deep, some unimportant and dumb.

John had taken his glasses out of his pocket and wiped them off as soon as he’d gotten into the room, he was blind as a bat without them, but he almost always refused to wear them in public. He thought they made him look swotty, Paul used to tell him he was being daft, almost calling him handsome once or twice, but John didn’t seem to believe him because the glasses stayed in his pocket except when he and Paul were alone. It always felt special that John trusted Paul to see him like that like a girl trusting you to see her before she’s put her face on it shows you’re serious, that she trusts you to not go running when you see the real her.

When they’d gone back to Paris in ‘66 they’d had sex properly, something they both would have been horrified at the idea of on that first trip, but it wasn’t as meaningful as that first night in Paris, where they’d just held each other, fighting to keep their eyes open so they could keep talking for as long as possible until they passed out in each other’s arms. John had started wearing his glasses all the time by then but not the ones he’d worn back in 61’, a wired pair that he’d been given to wear while filming a film he was doing, so it hadn’t meant what it once had for him to wear them in front of Paul. He’d decided to share that part of himself with the world in the film, it wasn’t just for Paul anymore.

Francie decided to break away from Paul’s side and opted instead to walk alongside Yoko and talk with her. Paul had to hear a lot about how much Fracie loved talking to Yoko, how interesting she found Yoko, how smart and educated she was. The unlike you was implied, it was bad enough getting that shit with John he didn’t need it from his girlfriend too.

When they finally reached the studio there was a crowd of fans gathered outside holding out photos and copies of Sgt. Pepper for them to sign. Yoko and Francie walked ahead into the building as Paul and John were swarmed.

“Go on ahead” Paul said “We’ll be through after we’ve signed these”.

Francie rolled her eyes at him before walking on into the studio with Yoko and continuing to talk her ear off.

John turned to Paul and said “Oh, she’s a real charmer that one”

Paul shot him a look telling him to stop, not willing to have it out with John in front of the fans.

They started to sign for the fans asking their names and making polite small talk with them before moving onto the next one as soon as possible, a well oiled machine after five years of it just like winding the coils in a factory. Name, sign, where are you from, oh that’s nice, next please.

Paul was signing an old beatlemania photo for a young fan who only looked about fourteen, he always wondered where these girls parents were, one of those old glamour shot style photos of him that they used to do back in 1963/64, that they used to pin up and sell in stalls up and down the country, he was wondering where someone so young got one of those from, when he felt someone grab ahold of his arse. He turned around ready to tell whoever it was off but, when he did saw it was a girl who couldn’t have been any older than fifteen, so he just smiled at her politely instead she was just a kid afterall. Signing her album once he’d finished with the girl he was with right now as John gaped next to him. Name, sign, where are you from, oh that’s nice, next please; and then they were done.

As soon as they were out of earshot of the girls outside John confronted Paul “What’d you think you’re playing at letting that girl put her hands all over ya like you’re some sort of prozzie?”.

“It’s fine John” Paul said as they continued to walk to the studio they were going to be in today.

“Christ, what is wrong with you, with your girlfriend just inside?” John asked, which caused Paul to scoff.

“Really, John? Funny you never seemed to care about that up until recently”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” John asked, his face clouding.

“Nothing” Paul said as he entered the studio and saw Yoko and Francie in the corner of the room sitting together talking to one another smiling and laughing.

“Christ! What the fuck are you two whispering about over there?” Paul yelled, causing Francie and Yoko to look away from each other and scowl at him.

“It’s none of your business, you don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t speak to” Francie said back to him calmly, like Paul was getting worked up over nothing, which just made him more angry.

“I invited you to the studio, not Yoko!” Paul yelled back at her.

John gave a little inaudible wow next to him.

“Francie, can I talk to you outside for a second?” Paul asked, Francie reluctantly followed him but not before sharing a look with Yoko.

Once they got out into the hallway Paul immediately began ranting and raving at her about: her and Yoko talking about him behind her back, how horrible he thought Yoko and John were together, the problems in the studio that she always said were his fault, that she clearly wanted to fuck John and anything he could think of a lot of things that were to do with Francie a lot of which weren’t but he was yelling at her like they were her fault anyway, for some of it he didn’t even know what he was saying by the end of it the anger in his voice was so palpable that he was practically screaming at her. He was breathing heavily once he was done, he looked at Francie who was looking at him with a mix of horror and mortification. He felt like he was losing his mind, this didn’t feel like him at all, he was usually so good at dealing with stuff without letting it effect him.

“Paul, What the fuck is wrong with you?” She yelled at him before storming out of the studio.

Paul chased after her trying to apologise but she just kept telling him to fuck off. By the time he’d made his way back to the recording studio George and Ringo had arrived, and John and Yoko were looking at him with disgust, right so they’d just heard all of that then.

---

A few days later John decided to confront George Martin when Paul had popped to the bathroom about what exactly was going on, why Paul was staying behind and coming in early all the time.

“What’re you doin’ with Paul in the studio when we’re not here?” John said as he barged into the studio causing George to drop his papers on to the mixing desk, Yoko following close behind as always.

“I am not doing anything with Paul” He said in his posh teacher-like voice.

“I know you’re lying George, there’s something goin’ on” John raised his voice with anger and frustration.

George began to pick the papers up and slowly reorganise them.

“If you believe Paul is doing something behind your back, I suggest you ask Paul about it rather then haranguing me about it” George said exacerbated.

Soon after George said that Paul reentered the studio, his eyes scanned the room and when he noticed John was in the sound booth talking to George Martin, they widened with realization. John rushed down from the booth and made his way to Paul, getting so close to him that he could feel Paul’s breath on his face, it was closer than he’d been to Paul in a very long time.

“Why’ve you been recording music without me, that you won’t tell me about?”

Paul’s eyes broke away from John.

“Y’know how a few years ago the EMI execs asked me to make a solo album?” John nodded not saying anything, he knew where this was going even if he didn’t want it to be true.

“Well…they’ve been on at me about it ever since…and I finally said yes…figured if you didn’t want my songs on the new album, I could still release them without y-without all of your guys say so”

John was a mix of furious and devastated, he was trying his best not to cry. Paul was taken aback when he saw his eyes growing wet, he didn’t know John still cared about him enough for Paul to be able to upset him like that.

“You didn’t tell me…that they kept on at you about it...all those years and you never said a word” John sounded so small, like a child being told something that they couldn’t possibly understand.

“John, I didn’t…” Paul started, but John pushed past him as he stormed out of the room, Yoko following closely behind, she stopped to glare at Paul before she left the room. He wanted to yell at her to tell her to fuck off, but that would just make things worse. He felt like he’d ruined the trust that they had previously, even if things were bad now the past had been untainted by whatever had since gone wrong between them, that wasn’t true anymore because John felt like Paul had been keeping this from him for all these years.

---

Paul pushed forward with recording his new solo album, which didn’t take very long as all but three of the songs were already written, a few were re-recordings of older beatles songs without the rest of the beatles and a few songs were covers of older rock n’ roll songs, he even managed to sneak part of one of his avant garde recording from 1966 as a sort of coda at the end of the album. It was a bit of a mess but most of the songs were good, it didn’t really matter too much how good the album was, his best stuff was going on the next Beatles album, this was just a side project.

His relationship with Francie continued to drag on as somehow being alone seemed worse than being together despite the constant arguments which were happening more and more. He was going out to parties more and more to avoid having to go home only coming home to collapse on the bed next to Francie at the end of the night. He was spending more time with Robert again which as before meant he was trying all sort of fun drugs even outside of the pep pills he was getting from him.

He’d taken something on the way to the photoshoot for his album cover to take the edge off, he (unlike John) had a rule that he wouldn’t do drugs in the studio but he didn’t think that applied to photoshoots. He popped a valium before realising that he only had one left, so thought he might as well just finish it and took another. Once he’d made his way into the photography studio he was surprised to find Joseph Lockwood there, thank christ he’d gotten good at hiding when he was high by now the familiar haziness already making it difficult to string thoughts and words together.

“Mr Lockwood” Paul said as he shook his hand “to what do I owe the pleasure”.

Joseph smiled at him “ I just had some ideas for the album cover that I was speaking to Jerry about” he gestured to the photographer.

“Oh right” Paul said trying to hide his confusion.

“Oh don’t worry boy, we’ll do some that you like too, then we can just decide what we think is best”

That was of little comfort to Paul, he knew that if the head of EMI wanted a specific cover for his album enough to show up the photoshoot himself that was the cover his album was going to end up having. He told himself it was a side project though, his whole career didn’t hinge on one album cover.

“So what’s the idea for the album cover?” Paul asked expecting it to be something stuffy and old fashioned like what the album covers at EMI were like before they came onto the scene like him in a tux.

“Well…it’s pretty ‘out there’ as the kids say” Lockwood said gesticulating with his hands.

Maybe not a full tuxedo then, maybe he’d even be able to have his shirt untucked.

“I want you to be naked on the album cover” Lock wood said to him, smiling wildly like the cheshire cat.

“What?” Paul said as the photographer made his way across to one of the lights to fiddle with it, for no apparent reason except for wanting to get as far away from this conversation as he possibly could.

“Picture it, you full frontal on the front cover then the back, you have your backside out” He said while sizing Paul up “It’s sure to sell, I mean who wouldn’t want to buy that, every single one of those girls who write you letters about wanting to marry you they’d buy it, they’d probably buy more than one”.

Paul sighed, he couldn’t be bothered fighting him on it, he didn’t have any ideas for the cover anyway, he’d been so busy with the new beatles album he’d barely thought about it.

“Sure, why not”

“Good boy” Joseph said as he shook Paul’s hand “Why don’t you go into the dressing room and strip down”.

Paul nodded.

The photographer watched Paul as he left the room, he glanced at Lockwood before he looked down shamefully.

“We’re ready when he’s ready” the photographer said.

---

Paul came out a few minutes later naked, Lockwood and the photographers eyes instantly shot over to him. He looked down suddenly feeling like he should be embarrassed by being naked in front of someone who was the closest thing he had to a boss he had and a man he’d only just met. Lockwood must have sensed that he was beginning to think this wasn’t a good idea, he came up to him and put his arm around him in an almost fatherly way and led him over to where the camera was set up.

“It’s alright, Mr McCartney, nothing to be embarrassed about” Lockwood said.

“I don’t-a-” Paul slurred losing the words he was going to say, he hoped he hadn’t given himself away, something flashed across Lockwood's face for a second before it disappeared.

“Don’t you worry about it, just make your way over to in front of the camera, just do what you’re told and we’ll do the rest”

Paul frantically nodded his head in agreement then positioned himself in front of the camera, as Lockwood made his way over to next to the photographer.

“Ok Paul” Lockwood said “That’s great” the flash went off then the photographer ran around to behind him, then there was another flash.

“Now lift up your left arm” Paul did, the flash went off then the photographer ran around to behind him, then there was another flash.

“Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous, now pick up some of those grapes from the fruit bowl and lift them up like you’re about to eat them” Paul did what lockwood told him to.

“No lift your hand higher, more dramatic” Paul did what he was told.

The flash went off then the photographer ran around to behind him, then there was another flash.

“Now one of you with one of your feet up on the ottoman, move it around will you Jerry”

The photographer moved the ottoman in front of Paul, he tried to put one foot on top of it but it slipped off.

“Oops” He said trying not to break out into a giggling fit.

“Careful Mr McCartney, don’t want any bruises do we” Lockwood asked, Paul shook his head and said a long drawn out “No”.

He carefully put his foot up onto the ottoman.

Flash, the photographer runs around, another flash.

“Now arms and legs out like you’re saying look at me!”

“We haven’t got all day!”

“Nevermind Jerry you do it”

Flash.

Flash.

“Now a bow”

Flash.

Flash.

“Now a curtsey”

Flash.

Flash.

“Now act like you’re shy”

Flash.

Flash.

“Beautiful, Mr McCartney, the camera loves you”

Flash.

Flash.

“How about a cigarette?”

Flash.

Flash.

Flash. Flash. Flash. Flash……

----

As soon as he got through the door of his home Martha jumped onto him knocking him onto the hard wood floor with a loud thud. She climbed on top of him licking his face all over.

“Oh…who’s a good girl…” he slurred, sloppily running his fingers through her fur.

Suddenly, Francie was in front of him looking down at him, her hands on her hips, annoyed. He pouted up at her, like she was his mother and he’d come home from school with grass stains on his shirt.

“Christ, you’re out of it” She said, as she shoved Martha off of him and pulled him onto his feet.

“Well hello to you too darling, my day was fine thank you, how was yours?” Paul said still slurring.

Paul suddenly realised that he couldn’t actually remember what he’d done today, so he didn’t actually know wether his day was fine or not, he remembered that he was supposed to have a photoshoot and the flashes of a camera, so he must have gone to it.

She walked Paul over to the sofa and threw him onto it.

“Didn’t you have a photoshoot?” She asked.

“You’re so pretty” He cooed at her, “C’mon sit with me…please” he pleaded, smiling up at her as sweetly as he could.

She sighed, and collapsed onto the sofa next to him and threw her legs on top of him so she was almost sitting on his lap, Paul wrapped his arms around her as best as he could with his arms feeling so limp, and pulled her up to him as close and as tightly as he could.

“What would you do without me?” Francie asked.

“I dunno die probably” Paul slurred.

Francie chuckled.

“Awwe that’s sweet of you” she said then leaned over and kissed him tenderly. Things would be better with Francie eventually, he knew they would, they had plenty of nice moments like this in between the arguments. He wasn’t the easiest person to be around right now but, he’d get back to his old self eventually, then things would be great, they were just going through a rough patch, maybe he and Francie could even get married someday if he didn’t mess things up like had with Jane.

He knew the valium was beginning to wear off, thoughts began to sneak in about the photoshoot, about wether he should be worried about not knowing what happened, but he couldn’t bring himself to think about it too much. Afterall, how much trouble could he get into at a photoshoot?

----

Things have become even worse in the studio, John and Paul had stopped being able to be in the studio together at the same time so they were both camped out in different studios. George and Ringo going back and forth between the two studios when needed, and using Mal so they wouldn’t have to talk to one another. John was just finishing up a take when he saw Mal enter the soundbooth, he rolled his eyes, christ what did Paul want now?

Mal gave him a big smile and waved at him from behind George Martin who was hunched over the recording console. Once John finished the take he made his way into the booth. George looked between them before sighing and stepping out.

“So…Paul wants to ask where you want your copy of his new album delivered to, because he’s not really sure where you’re living nowadays, is it Kenwood or are you still at Montagu?” Mal asked.

John glared at him, Yoko stood behind him following John’s lead.

“Why didn’t he ask Ringo?” Yoko said.

“He did but Ringo wouldn’t tell him and said he should ask you himself” Mal said sighing.

John folded his arms “Well you can tell Paul it’s not any of his business and that I don’t want a copy of his stupid album, I’m sure it’s crap anyway” John said trying his best not to sound like a petulant teenager. He uncrossed his arms and left them hanging at his side, his fists clenched.

Mal gave a very long sigh before finally saying “Alright” and turning around to go back to Paul in the other studio.

-----

John put on a disguise when he went to buy a copy of Paul’s album, sunglasses, a hat and a wig, he told Yoko to stay home, it was obvious what he was doing but neither of them talked about it.

He walked to a few streets away then hailed a taxi to take him to record shop in the next borough over so hopefully nobody would think it was him. When he got into the shop he was surprised that Paul’s new album wasn’t in the shop window like The Beatles albums normally were amd when he entered the shop it wasn’t being displayed anywhere in there. He made his way up to the counter and tried his best to speak with a southern accent so he wouldn’t be recognised.

“Excuse me, I’m just looking for the new Paul McCartney album”

The man at the counters face turned bright red.

“Oh, of course” He said and pulled out a copy from under the counter.

Why was he keeping them under the counter? And why was the album covered in a brown bag?

He paid the guy and went to take the record out of the bag.

“Wait?” The record shop owner said “You might want to wait until you get home to do that”.

John responded to him with a look of confusion before stepping outside and rushing back to his and Yoko’s flat. When he got back to the flat he was completely flushed and panicked, he could just about hear Yoko’s calm humming drifting in from the other room, she must be painting.

John looked down at the record, as he began to slowly remove the brown bag the title came into view, revealing the word McCartney, it felt like a divorce in a way seeing it in writing the removing of the hyphenate, the separating of Lennon-McCartney. Then Paul’s face came into view an absent look as he was placing a cigarette in his mouth, far from the polished carefully crafted image he usually insisted upon for The Beatles covers, what a hypocrite, he could feel a familiar anger beginning to bubble up in him. He kept pulling the sleeve down, revealing that Paul wasn’t wearing a shirt in the photo, after he’d seen that he quickly pulled the brown bag away completely and threw it onto the floor.

His hands began to shake with anger when he saw Paul was completely naked on the cover, the only thing covering his body was some small clouds of stray cigarette smoke, and he looked so casual too like it didn’t bother him at all, not a statement, not a risk, just another photoshoot. There was some random pieces of furniture barely visible next to him but, your eyes couldn’t focus on anything but Paul’s naked body against that white backdrop. He saw his furry thighs that he used to tenderly stroke, his stomach that he used to blow raspberries on when Paul was overthinking things after they’d messed about together as teenagers, his pretty little cock that John stroked to completion, sucked off and that fucked him up the ass so many times. John couldn’t take it he smashed the album over and over again onto the side table until it was smashed into dozens of pieces.

As he dropped the album to the floor, he fell onto the floor with it crying as he finally saw the back of the cover that showed Paul’s beautiful behind, that he’d sneakily admired so many times as a teenager when Paul had managed to sneak past his dad in the drainies that he thought we’re so daring to wear. Oh, if baby-faced teenage Paul could see himself now.

He’d never wanted to share Paul with anyone, and now he’d have to share him with the world forever, Paul would never be only his again. John cried to himself as Yoko crept into the room and over to him, she held him and stroked his hair whispering to him telling him he was alright over and over again. Eventually he calmed down and his sobs had drifted off into sniffles, Yoko asked him what was wrong, Paul was all he could say, Yoko sighed, putting a hand to to her brow in frustration.

John went back to the record shop after a few hours to buy a replacement record, ignoring the strange look from the owner who he was sure had a strong suspicion of who he was. When he got back to the flat he stared at the album for a while, at Paul’s naked body, at the disinterested look on his face that seemed to have been perfectly crafted to get under John’s skin. Eventually, he threw on the album and listened through, there were a mix of songs he hadn’t heard before, old beatles numbers that Paul had re-recorded including yesterday, Junk and Teddy boy, a few covers, a few songs he hadn’t heard before, it was a strange experience listening to a song Paul had written along with everyone else in the world for the first time.

There were some love songs on there that he assumed were about Francie, not like she would appreciate them, about a pretty girl with short hair, and a short skirt, of ‘love’ being hard work, something you had to work for but, something that you had faith would be worth it in the end. Love wasn’t like that though, at least hadn’t been for them, before Brian died it wasn’t anyway.

At the end there was a little sample of an avant garde track Paul had written and shown John and some point. John scoffed, trying to show he was just as artsy as Yoko was he?

When the album ended he came to his conclusion on the album, it was fine, but it wasn’t a proper solo album, despite it being called McCartney it was far from a proper solo debut, he didn’t think there was much of a risk of Paul leaving the band right now. But, Paul had written and released four songs without any help from John, he wasn’t planning on leaving the band for now but that didn’t mean he wanted to come back to John, he didn’t need John anymore not as a lover, or a friend or a songwriting partner. How long would it be before he decided he didn’t need him as a bandmate anymore?

John couldn’t wait for that to happen, Paul couldn’t leave him.

He picked up the phone trying to call Paul but it was off the hook. He ran out the door and into his car and rushed over to Paul’s. He went to the gate outside of Paul’s house which was surrounded by somehow more scruffs than usual, many of them holding copies of Paul’s new album without the bag, probably wanting Paul to sign it. John asked a group of them if Paul was in there and they said he was.

He went up the the gate and tried to get Paul to buzz him in, he tried over and over again but, there was no answer. John looked through the bars of the gate and saw Paul’s aston martin sitting in the drive way. John needed to get inside so he asked one of the apple scruffs to give him a leg up and he scaled the wall next to the security gate, jumped down into a bush, getting twigs and leaves in his hair and Yoko’s fur coat that he was wearing, and smearing mud and dirt up his jeans.

He ran over to the front door and banged on it over and over again until finally, Francie came to the door, looking furious for a moment before her face lit up into a radiant smile when she realised it was John.

“John, it’s a pleasure to see you!” She exclaimed.

“Is Paul in?” John asked as he pushed past Francie and barged his way into the house.

“It’s about the album cover isn’t it” Francie said following after John following him through out the house, he ignored her completely as he continued to barge around the house looking for Paul “It was so stupid of him to do a thing like that, I told him that when I saw it this morning”.

“Francie!” John yelled turning towards her, stopping her in her tracks “Where is Paul?”.

“Paul made me take the phone off the hook after the first hour, then he went back to bed” Francie said

---

John went upstairs and barged into Paul’s bedroom, Paul was sat on the bed still in his pajamas staring at the wall.

“Go away Francie, I’m not in the mood” Paul said once he’d heard the door open.

“It’s not Francie” John said coldly, he was going to do it, he was gonna tell Paul he was leaving the band, he couldn’t sit around waiting for Paul to be the one to leave.

Paul turned around to look at John, his lips were raw and if John would have looked down to Paul’s fingers he’d have seen the skin at the top of his fingers were torn to shreds.

“Why’s your phone of the hook?” John asked “Avoiding me?” John asked, pretending like he didn’t care.

“Not you no…”

“Who then?” John asked.

“Me Da’....” Paul said trailing off like he couldn’t even imagine his dad seeing the album cover.

“Chirst Paul, you’re a fully grown man, why do you give a shit what you’re daddy thinks, like you’re still fifteen?”

“What do you want John?” Paul asked glaring up at him.

“Just came to compliment you on your new album, the songs we told you weren’t good enough for an album must have turned out pretty great if you needed to get starkers on the album cover to make sure people bought it” John jibbed, spitting it out like a snake would with it’s venom.

Paul jumped of the bed animatedly, recoiling at the words, like he was suddenly fighting for his life.

“Oh just fuck off John!” Paul yelled.

“I wish I could say that I’m surprised that you’re that desperate for attention, I’m sure you love it all those people looking at you starkers, admiring you, thinking about what they’d like to do to you like a whore, like you’re one of those girls in the clubs we upset to play at in Hamburg!” John yelled back at him.

“Shut up John” Paul muttered.

“And oh, that closer trying to prove something are you? Trying to prove that you can just be as artsy as Yoko- as me and Yoko, it was desperate, probably trying to distract from those shitty, soppy love songs you put on there” John spat out rapidly like a machine gun, not giving John any time to think about what was coming out of his mouth.

“Oh, what a load of bull, you and I both know that I was into all of that stuff way before you ever bloody met Yoko, hell I recorded the song before you even met her!”

“Oh, please everyone knows that avant garde shit is mine and Yoko’s thing!”

“It is not!”

“It is too! The stuff you were listening to back then was barely avant garde ”

Paul got up close to John, jabbing his chewed up finger in John’s face, angrily.

“What because you’ve been dating a performance artist for a few month you’re now the worlds top most authority on avant garde music?”

John scoffed “More than you are, Yoko’s got more artistic integrity in her little finger than you have in your entire body”.

Paul recoiled like he’d been hit, hurt plastered all over his face.

“Besides I wanted to tell you I’m done, I’m leaving the group if you’re gonna pull some shit like that- like going starkers on album covers, I don’t wanna be in a group with you anymore” John said it, meaning it to cause as much hurt to Paul as possible.

Paul collapsed back onto the bed.

“Are you embarrassed by me now?” Paul asked, his voice sounded so small.

“What?” John said, confused.

“I’m sorry Johnny” Paul said as he looked up at John tears streaming uncontrollably down his face “I didn’t mean to, please don’t leave”, John had only seen Paul cry once before and that was when he was drunk, Paul was always so concerned with being seen as tough so never cried. John sat down gently next to Paul.

“What do you mean you didn’t mean to?” John asked.

Paul kept his eyes fixed on John’s, desperate for John to believe him “I did some queludes in the car on the way to the shoot”.

“Oh Paulie” John said unable to hide his disappointment.

“I don’t remember any of it, I remember Lockwood was there, I didn’t know he was going to be. I must have agreed to it when I was out of it, it was stupid. I…I wouldn’t do something like this especially not without telling you. Please Johnny you have to believe me” Paul said, grabbing at John’s jacket in desperation.

“Lockwood?” John said angrily, it made sense that bastard was behind it he’d heard rumblings of the things he’d say behind Paul’s back, and the odd comment that would slip through in front of times.

“That bastard, I’ll kill him” John said leaping off the bed.

Paul gently pulled him back into the bed his vacant eyes never moving.

“It doesn’t matter, it’s done now, It’s my fault for showing up to a photoshoot off my face on downers” Paul murmured.

John leaned over to Paul and kissed him on the nose “I believe you Paul and I’m sorry for kicking off with you…I didn’t know…”.

Paul sighed sadly “Can you stay here a while?I just…want someone here for a little while”.

Paul looked over to the door he thought about Francie sitting down stairs when Paul needed someone here with him.

“Sure Paulie” John said softly and Paul lay down his body relaxing a little as soon as the words had left John’s mouth. John lay on the bed next to him wrapping his arms around him.

“This ok?” John asked earnestly, scared that this was something Paul was past wanting to do with John anymore.

Paul turned his head to face him and gave him such a genuine smile “Yes Johnny, it’s fine” and buried his face in John’s shirt.

---

When John left Paul’s house he went straight to EMI’s head offices, taking the lift up to the fourth floor and barging past the secretaries into Lockwood’s office.

“Mr Lennon!” Lockwood blustered “You can’t just barge in here!”.

One of the secretaries had followed John in and was hovering around them unsure what to do, clearly starstruck at being in the presence of a beatle.

John grabbed Lockwood by the lapels of his suit jacket and pushed him up against his desk.

“Jennifer, please call security” Lockwood said to his secretary who nodded and ran away as quickly as she could in the heels she was wearing.

“What the bloody hell you playing at forcing Paul to do that album cover, wanting to ruin one of your biggest stars careers just so you can get your rocks off!” John yelled as he lifted his fist getting ready to punch Lockwood in the face. Lockwood’s hands came up to protect his face as he coward.

“I did not make him do anything” Lockwood insisted “I merely suggested it and he agreed”.

“Bullshit!” John yelled “He didn’t bloody remember it he was so high out of his mind, if someone’s high enough to black out you’d be able to tell somethin’ was wrong!”.

“I didn’t-” Lockwood insisted, but John could hear the quick footsteps of the security guards running down the hall up to the room, so John punched Lockwood while he had the chance, probably gave the fucker a black eye but nothing serious. Lockwood yelped with pain.

John stepped back once he’d gotten his punch in, satisfied, waiting for security to kick him out. He was sure the press would have a field day with this, it’s a shame Brian wasn’t here still he always did such a good job at keeping stuff like this out of the press.

---

Paul put his phone back on the hook the day after his album came out and reluctantly began to take people’s calls; his dad was furious and told him that his mother would be ashamed of him if she’d lived to see it, Mike thought it way funny, Ringo was supportive but said he wished they’d spoken to him about it first, George didn’t call him he suspected he’d get an earful the next time he saw him though, Robert called him and was complimentary to the album cover, for many reasons. There was also a lot of reporters calling him wanting a comment about the controversy the album had set off, people saying that it wasn’t appropriate when most of his fans were teenage girls, he just said no comment, because what could he say.

When he went outside to take Martha for a walk he was surprised that for the most part nothing was different, people still wanted his autographs, still wanted to take pictures of him, there were no angry mobs waiting outside his door. He’d passed a newsstand and could see that the papers were all losing their minds talking about it treating it like the scandal of the century but most people didn’t seem to care, they weren’t as stuck up as the daily mail apparently.

When he got home, he found his phone was ringing, he took Martha off her leash and then ran to answer it.

“Hello?” Paul said into the phone.

“How’ve you been?” John asked over the phone “Still freaking out?”.

“Oh, Hi John, no-not so much anymore, not great but it’s better than it was” Paul said.

“Have you heard that Derek wants us to do a press conference later in the week, about all of the bad press over the album cover?” John asked.

“Yeah I have, sounds like a good idea, just dunno what I’m gonna say though. It’s hard to defend putting something out that I didn’t want out there in the first place, and saying I didn’t want it out would be even more humiliating” Paul started anxiously chewing on his thumb.

“Well, I don’t think there’s anything to be embarrassed about it’s Lockwood who should be embarrassed that fucker!” John said “Look whatever you want to say I’ll back you up if you want to say it was a joke I’ll say it was hilarious to me, if you want to say it was an artistic statement I’ll say I thought it was as brilliant as Michael Angelo, and if you wanna say that Lockwood is a prick who tricked you into it I will gladly call him every name under the sun”.

“Thanks Johnny” Paul said as he removed his thumb from his mouth and began to fiddle with the chord instead.

“So you got anything planned tonight?” John asked.

“Perhaps, depends on who with and what?” Paul said coyly.

“Remember, when we first stayed over night in London?” John asked.

Paul did, back then London was so exciting it was so different and sunny compared to Liverpool, when they first came here to record something it felt like the sky was opening up, and back then they could walk down the street without people chasing after them wanting something.

“Yeah”

“Remember that bar we went to? The one that Brian told us about?” John said, teasingly.

“Yeah” Paul said failing to hide the excitement in his voice.

“You, me, seven, wear a disguise…preferably something with a skirt” John said quickly like he was trying to trick Paul into agreeing.

Paul laughed “Piss off”.

“Is that a no?” John said with mock sadness.

“No, that’s a yes to everything except the skirt” Paul said laughing as he hung up the phone, wanting to leave John wanting more.

---

Paul put on his fake mustache from a hard days night and a hat, he hoped that would be a good enough disguise, and went to meet John at the gay bar they’d been to their first night in London. John had discreetly asked Brian about a bar where he and Paul could go to where they could be left alone, they’d had a lovely night together, being able to kiss, dance together and hold each others hand without worrying about it, the days of being able to do that in public even in a place like this were long gone, at least not when they weren’t in disguise, it was too big of a risk.

Paul made his way down the stairs into the dingy bar and looked around for John hoping he’d be able to find him in the crowd when he had his disguise on. Then there he was sat at a corner booth with his feet up next to him, clearly saving it for Paul, he recognised him instantly and his heart warmed and it felt like he was a teenager again, John was wearing his old buddy holly style glasses and a bowler hat just like they’d worn when they’d gone to Paris together, he was also wearing a jumper that Paul recognised as one that he’d had back in Liverpool but had forgotten he’d ever owned until now, John had clearly ‘borrowed’ it at some point and never given it back. He’d already ordered a drink for Paul, that was waiting for him at the table, a scotch and coke by the looks of it.

Paul made his way over to John like he was walking on air, smiling and blushing at him like a school girl on her first date. John threw his legs off the booth and onto the floor, Paul gracefully sitting down next to him.

“So you come here often?” John asked Paul, playfully.

“No not really, haven’t been here in a long time”

“Really?” John asked, biting his lip as he looked deeply into Paul’s eyes.

“Yeah feels like a lifetime ago” Paul said, John’s eyes boring into him, Paul looked away from him “What are you doing John? With the asking me out to this bar and the clothes?”

“You can do a lot better than Francie y’know, it seems like she might just be using you to get ahead. It’s just from what I’ve seen she doesn’t seem to care about you that much” John said like that was in anyway the answer to Paul’s question.

“I know” Paul said flatly.

“Then why-” John started

“Because it’s better than being alone John” Paul said like it was obvious.

“Oh Paulie, you’ll never be alone” John said gently, then he leaned in and kissed Paul tenderly eliciting a little involuntary squeak from Paul, which made John have to bite back a laugh.

John carefully took Paul’s hands in his own like he was handling something precious.

“I wanted to show you that things don’t have to change, I know you said they did but, me being with a different woman doesn’t mean that things have to be different between us”.

“But they have- they did” Paul insisted, he couldn’t believe John acting like things hadn’t changed, it hadn’t been Paul that had insisted things changed, it was John when he started dating Yoko, when he brought her into the studio, when he got her to sing on their songs.

“I know, but all that’s over now, I love you Paul” John said “She’s not gonna be with me all the time anymore, she’s not gonna be at the studio. I spoke to her about it this morning, she wasn’t exactly happy about it but, I’m sure she’ll get used to it, and if she doesn’t then… I’ll just have to find someone else”.

“Really?” Paul asked, softly like he was begging John for it to be true.

“Really Paulie, I love you, I want you no matter what”.

Paul’s face lit up as he leaned into embrace John. Maybe change didn’t mean things were over for them, not if they didn’t want them to be. Maybe he was right that some love was worth fighting for even if it was difficult, if it was the right person.