Things We Said Today - Chapter 1

Title:  Things We Said Today

Pairing: John/Paul

Author: dreamersimagine & sgtpepperrigby

Rating: PG (for this chapter)

Summary: Drama backstage at one of the concerts leads to some questions and tough situations.

Warnings: none

Notes: This chapter’s really short, but only because it’s an introductory. Hopefully later chapters will be longer.

Paul’s POV

  The crowd cheered as we started our last number of the show, “Love Me Do”, which was our biggest hit. In the middle of my smiling and bouncing up and down in tune to each pluck of my bass, I glanced over at George and John. They were standing next to the microphone on the other side of the stage. Even though it isn’t that far away in real life, the distance between the two microphones felt a lot larger when I was onstage singing. I couldn’t help but notice that John was dancing and having fun, his soft brown hair flying all over the place with every bounce. He looked like a cute little kid, jumping up and down with glee. I snapped out of it as George and I finished the last chord of the song and bowed, thanking the crowd before quickly running off backstage with the others following closely behind.
  “That crowd was wild,” George panted, delicately placing his Gretsch onto its stand.
  “Yeah, but I think I might have messed up a couple of times,” I replied, placing my Hofner on its stand as well.
  “Don’t worry Paul, nobody probably noticed,” John said, patting me on my back supportively. I could tell there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice but for some reason I didn’t care, simply taking the somewhat compliment and smiling back. 
  Lately, everything John says makes me smile. I just get this weird feeling in my stomach, like butterflies or something cliché like that. I guess I don’t know how to put it, never having felt something like that before. But every time it happened, I just shrugged it off. “You think so John?” I asked him, trying to sound as innocent as possible.

  “Of course,” he replied, a little laugh in his voice. “Besides, with a face like yours who pays attention to the music?”
  I didn’t know what exactly John meant by something like that, but I gave him a big smile anyway. The smile quickly faded, however, as typical George had to make a mean remark.

  “You’re right John,” he chuckled, “I’m surprised he didn’t scare them all away.”

  John laughed and gave George a high five, and somehow, seeing the two of them laugh together over something like that upset me. Guess I’m just being self-centered. I slapped George on the back of the head and gave him a glare. He looked at me funny, adding a sympathetic, “You okay there mate?” for good measure.
  “Yeah, just tired, that’s all.” I sighed, turning away and heading into a different room. Sometimes I just can’t take it with them.

George’s POV 

  The crowd cheered as we finished playing, and I glanced over in Paul’s direction before he and I sprinted backstage. John and Ringo followed closely behind, and all of us rushed into our private room, panting and out of breath.

  “That crowd was wild,” I said, trying to force conversation. After we played, everything was always so awkward and full of tension. Paul added his usual complaint, saying he messed up, and I gave him a funny look.  If there’s one thing about Paul, it’s that he never messes up. He’s bloody perfect for crying out loud. Everything he does is considered absolutely flawless by all our fans; that’s why he’s the ‘cute Beatle.’

  I was about to tell Paul that he did fine and that he shouldn’t worry, but John interrupted me, sucking up and saying, “Don’t worry Paul, nobody probably noticed.”

  Paul smiled at him with doe eyes and asked, “Really?” He always played innocent, especially around John. Of course John played along and answered, “Of course, besides, with a face like yours, who pays attention to the music?”

  I had to say something; John and Paul were driving me crazy. They were practically flirting for crying out loud! Of course,  the only thing that came out of my mouth was, “You’re right John, I’m surprised he didn’t scare them all away.”

  I regretted it instantly, especially because Paul gave me one of his signature nasty glares. I asked if he was okay, but all that came out his mouth was that he was tired. He soon left the room, a pout still on his face.
  I wanted to go and see if he was alright, but I guess I was too shy. I sighed, sinking my head in my hands. John gave me a nasty look and tried to go comfort Paul, and I let him. I guess I’ll never be good enough for this bloody band.

We All Live in a Blue Time Machine - Chapter 11

 “Okay, any more stops?” Angie asked in a rather annoyed tone as they stepped back into the time machine once again.

  “I think this is it,” Sam replied, clicking some buttons and transporting them back into 1963.

1963

  “Finally!” George shouted as they entered the studio, finally being back where the guys were recording. “Home sweet home.” 
  “Yeah it’s great,” Sam said, slouching down on the couch as her facial expression suddenly became fearful. “Except now we have to leave.”

  George sat down next to her, giving her a side hug and comforting her. “I don’t want you leave,” he said, smiling at her in an attempt to force her to stay. “We’re supposed to get married.”

  “You know, Sam, we don’t have to go,” Angie said, trying to cheer her up. She wanted to stay just as much as Sam did. “Not like anyone will miss us.”

  “What about your family?” Paul asked, looking at her with a confused expression.

  “We don’t have one.” Angie replied. “Sam and I are from a foster home that consists of like ten other kids. They won’t even notice we’re gone because we’re barely there anyways.” 
  “Is it really that terrible?” Paul asked, placing his hand on Angie’s shoulder in comfort.
  “Yeah, it was worse when we were younger cause we couldn’t go anywhere by ourselves. But now we just go out to places, doesn’t matter where, as long as we aren’t there.” 
  “Is that how you guys met?” John asked.
  “Yeah, we shared a bunk bed since we were five. We were both different from the other kids, I remember my first night there some kid tried to rip my teddy bear’s head off… then Sam started tackling him and wouldn’t stop until he gave me back my bear.” 
  Sam laughed. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We should just stay. We belong here anyways.” 
  “Yes!” George cried, and Sam gave him a warm hug.
  “I’m really glad you’re staying,” Paul said, facing Angie.
  “Me too. Never thought I’d be next to the ‘Paul McCartney of the Beatles.’ My foster dad didn’t really like older music, so it was kind of hard to even go to one of your concerts without him criticizing me.” 
  “Well, you don’t have to worry about that,” Paul said, hugging Angie tightly. “You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”

  “The best part is that you guys can tell us what to and not to do in order to make our future better,” Ringo pointed out.

  “Yeah, like John will never marry Yoko,” Sam said with a laugh.
  John gave her a funny look.  “Is she really that bad?”
  “She makes you hate Paul,” Sam replied sharply, raising her eyebrows and giving John a look that simply meant, figure the rest out yourself.
  Paul’s eyes widened. “You hate me?”
  “No! I never said I did, did I?” 
  “Well, you do in the future.”
  “No I don’t, you’re my best mate.” 
  “Seriously?” Angie asked, interrupting the two of them. “I thought we were done with the fights.” 
  “Oh, so I have to forgive John now, like I always do?” Paul rolled his eyes.
  “Paul, what are you talking about?” John asked, partially yelling.
  “Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about.” 
  Angie looked over at Sam with a worried look. Sam whispered something to George, and then he stood up off of the couch and went over to the fighting John and Paul. “Guys stop,” he said, trying to calm the two of them down.  “See what this is doing to us?”
  “Oh sod off, Harrison, nobody needs your opinion,” John snapped back at him.

  “See, this is what I mean!” Paul cried, defending George. “You always disrespect us.”
  “Oh, like you’re any better!” George yelled at Paul.
  Paul looked at George and then back at John. “Fine,” he said, breaking the tension slightly. “You know what? I’m out of here.”

  “So am I!” George yelled.

  “Count me in!” John followed.
  Before they knew it, Angie and Sam were all alone in the studio with Ringo, who stood there silently the entire time as the scene played out before them. 
  “What should we do?” Angie suddenly asked, turning to Sam.
  “I don’t know, time traveling won’t work this time.”
  “Guess we’ll have to talk to them then.” 
  “Yeah, I’ll take George,” she said, walking toward the direction George had left in. “You take Paul.” 
  “Ringo?” Angie asked, turning toward him. “Can you take John?”
  “Yeah I suppose I can,” Ringo replied, sighing heavily. “He’s tough to crack, though. Won’t apologize if his life depended on it.”

  “Well his life depends on this,” Sam replied, walking down the hallway without saying another word, desperate to find George and make everything right.

  —-

  “There you are,” Angie said, finally reaching Paul. “Is everything alright?”

  Paul sat alone in an abandoned room in one of the studios, his head slumped in his hands and his eyes wide with sorrow. “I guess I’m a little shaken about what’s just happened, that’s all.”

  Angie walked over towards him, sitting down next to him and wrapping her arm around him in comfort. “I think we all are.”

  “It’s just so difficult, ya know?” Paul sighed. “Everything’s just happening so fast.”

  “I get what you mean. I think I’d be just as scared as you are if I was in your situation right now. In fact, I am pretty scared, and this isn’t even about my future.”

  “Yes it is. We get married!” Paul smiled. “It’s a little strange now though, I guess I wanted my marriage to be more spontaneous than that. But maybe it will be. You never know.”

  “I don’t really mind whether it’s spontaneous or not. I just want you to be happy.” Angie smiled up at Paul, and he leaned in and pecked her lips softly.

  “I wish John and I didn’t fight so much.”

  “What is friendship without a little argument now and then?” Angie laughed lightly. “Everyone fights. Even Sam and I have had our share of fights, and look at us now! Best friends and both hanging out with the freaking Beatles. It’s a dream, really.”

  “Well I’m glad you like us this much,” Paul smiled back. “I really enjoy your company, I wouldn’t want anything to happen to us.”

  “Neither do I. You should apologize to John and George; who knows, they might apologize back.”

  Paul smiled. “Alright. Come on, let’s go.”

  —-

  “George?” Sam asked, peering around the corner. There George sat, alone in an empty room in the recording studio. He looked angry rather than sad, a look of almost pure hatred on his face.

  “George,” Sam repeated, walking over to him and sitting down next to him. “I’m so sorry.”

  “What are you apologizing for?” he spat, immediately regretting being so harsh to her as soon as the words left his lips.

  Sam simply brushed George’s harshness off. “Everything.”

  “You don’t have to,” George wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to his chest, pecking the top of her head. “I should be apologizing for being so rude.”

  “How about none of us apologize,” Sam suggested. “We just both pretend we never had this small little disagreement.”

  “That sounds fair enough.” George pulled away from their hug so he could kiss Sam gently on the lips, making her melt and instantly breaking all the slight tension between the two of them. “Why am I such an ass?” he asked, his eyes narrowing with confusion and sadness.

  “You’re not,” Sam comforted, digging her hand through his hair. “You’re just stubborn sometimes. But who isn’t?”

  “Do you think I should go apologize to John and Paul?”

  “Mhmm,” Sam smiled in relief. “You know what? I’ll come with you.”

We All Live in a Blue Time Machine - Chapter 10

“Wait, Sam!” George cried as they stepped into the time machine. “You promised we’d go see me in the future.”

  Angie and Paul sighed, growing ever so annoyed at the ‘quiet Beatle’s’ problems.

  “Sorry guys,” Sam said, and she began typing in George’s address. “I promised.”

  Everyone else groaned as they were whisked away to yet another location in 1980. This time they were where George lived, in Friar Park.

Friar Park, 1980

  “Woah, this is where I live?” George asked in shock. They weren’t exactly in Friar Park quite yet, but they were just outside, walking amongst the bustling crowd. They proceeded walking, looking for the entrance to the park and trying to fit in with the crowd. A couple of girls walking by gave them stares, as if they recognized the young Beatles.

  “You sure nobody will recognize us?” Paul asked, looking around and attempting weakly to hide his face from the passing crowd.
  “Nobody will, don’t worry,” Angie reassured, 
  “Hey George, I like your look these days,” John said, chucking and hitting George on the arm playfully.
  “How do you know what I look like?” George asked, looking around.
  “Isn’t that you?”

   Everyone looked to where John was pointing. It was George, standing at a pay phone just outside the entrance to Friar Park. George was on the phone, seemingly deep in conversation, not minding the stares he got from people in the crowd as they thought they recognized him.

  Angie, Sam, and the fab four ran up to where they could hear him. They were careful enough that he didn’t see them, and they made sure they were quiet so he didn’t hear them either.

  “And don’t be calling me ever again!” Future George was shouting over the phone, snarling out his words to the unlucky victim on the other line. “You ruined this band, and I’m not forgiving you!” Future George hung up the phone and made his way back into the crowd, heading for the entrance to his home.
  “How much do you guys want to bet that that was either John or Paul on the other line?” Sam said, smirking.
  “Why are we so cruel to each other?” George asked.  “What the hell happened?”
  “Aw, George, we all wanna know that,” Sam said, patting his back. “The entire world’s been asking that since the White Album.”
  Ringo, as well as the other, ignored her hints about the future. “So who’s going to talk to George?” Ringo asked.
  “I want to!” John cried out immediately.
  “No way!” George yelled. “You’ll probably ruin everything.”
  “You got to talk to future me, it’s only fair.”
  “But it was my idea to come here.”
  Angie started to get annoyed at the two bickering Beatles standing before her. “Guys stop it!” she cried, sighing heavily afterward. “This is exactly why you guys broke up, you were fighting too much.”
  “Why doesn’t George go since it was his idea and John did get to go for Paul and him,” Sam suggested.
  “Fine,” John pouted, imitating a little child not getting what he wanted.
  “Okay,” Sam replied. “Remember, George, nice things. You care about Paul and John.”

  George nodded and made his way into the crowd, shaking with fear as he followed future him to the entrance of Friar Park.

  “Excuse me?” George said, taping his future self on the shoulder once he caught up to him.

  Future George kept on walking, acting as if he didn’t notice someone was trying to talk to him. This must be what being a big star does to you, he thought, tapping his future self on the shoulder once more.

  “Mr. Harrison, your past self awaits you,” George said, giggling at his word choice. Future George spun around, immediately realizing what was happening.

  “Dear God, what are you doing here?” he asked, grabbing George and pulling him away from the crowd. They were now at the entrance to Friar Park, and George followed future George inside and behind the gates.

  “I’ve come to talk to you, Georgie boy!” he cried, shoving his future self playfully.

  “Come inside, uh, George,” future George said, laughing and allowing George to follow him inside his home.

  “This is our home,” future George said, showing George around. “Lovely, ain’t it?”

  George nodded, admiring the lovely gold accents on the walls and ceiling.

  “Oh, you’re home,” a voice called from around the corner, and George immediately recognized it as Sam’s. He practically ducked behind a corner, peering out as he watched future Sam wrap her arms around his future self and kiss him tenderly.

  “We have company,” future George said, almost a little embarrassed that his past self saw himself showing signs of public affection.

  “Oh?” Sam asked, raising her eyebrows and looking around.

  Future George pulled past George out from around the corner and watched in awe as Sam eyed the young version of her husband.

  “Is that…you?” she asked, looking back and forth between both Georges.

  “I didn’t realize I would create this much drama,” George said, slowly backing away from the two. “I guess I should be going then-“

  “No, stay!” future Sam said, grabbing George by the collar of his shirt. “You’re in the time traveling days, aren’t you?”

 “Well how else did he get here then?” future George said, laughing.

  Future Sam shot future George a look, but simply shrugged off her husband’s little taunt and continued waiting for George’s response.

  “Yes, I’m from 1963,” George replied, feeling sweat nearly dripping down his brow. It was intimidating being in the presence of his future self and wife, looking at his future and hoping they approved of him. He felt like a small child at his first day of school.

  “Are the others outside?” Sam asked, glancing out the door but realizing she couldn’t see a thing.

  “They’re a little ways outside, yes,” George replied, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “But I told them it would be juts me coming inside to talk to you guys.”

  “Ah,” Future George replied, practically staring down his past self. It felt so odd to see himself from nearly twenty years ago. He had so many questions he wanted to ask. “Why did you come here?”

  “I heard you talking to someone on the phone just a few minutes ago,” George answered. “You sounded a little upset and angry at whoever you were talking to.”

  “It’s just Paul,” Future George replied. “He called me today, so I decided to call him back. He was being an ass, really. He was trying to be nice, I could tell, but that natural bossy instinct he has took over. So I yelled at him.”

  “I don’t think that’s the way you should handle this,” Sam said, practically taking the words out of George’s mouth. “He was trying to reconnect with you, I’m guessing.”

  “Yes,” Future George replied, ”But he’s an ass. I can’t deal with him.”

  “You need to be kind to one another,” George stepped in. “If you and John and Paul don’t make up, the future will be terrible.”

  “I know, I’m from there,” Future Sam laughed.

  “I’m just warning you,” George continued. “Be prepared. Make friends with him. Call and apologize, alright?”

  “Alright,” future George said, scratching his neck, showing obvious signs of being nervous. “I will.”

  “Thank you,” George replied. He was about to turn around and leave when something stopped him. “Do we have any kids?” he asked, looking nervously from his future self to his future wife.

  “You’ll have to wait to find that out,” Sam said with a smirk.

  George smiled, walking away and leaving Friar Park, returning to his anxious friends.

We All Live in a Blue Time Machine - Chapter 9

  “Any last-minute crises before we go back?” George asked. He was still a little shaken-about as they walked, getting closer to the time machine.

  “There better not be,” Ringo said. This whole time machine thing had created so many crises already.

  Angie stopped to think for a minute “Wait there is!” she screamed.

  George sighed. “Honestly, Angie, are we that messed up of a band?”

  “You have no idea, George,” she replied.

  “Sam we need to go to Paul’s,” she said, walking over to Sam and talking to her quietly so the others couldn’t hear. “He and John aren’t exactly close.”

  “You’re right, sorry guys we have one more stop to make”, Sam said loud enough so everyone to hear.

  “Where?” Paul asked.

  “Future you,” Angie said hoping he’d be glad to see his future self.

  “Why?” Paul asked again, a stubborn look on his face.

  “Well, you and John kind of don’t get along that well.”

  John and Paul both looked at each other, then looked at Angie, their voices filled with shock. “WHAT?”

  “We’re best mates though!” John said practically shouted.

  “I know, that’s why we’re going to fix it,” Angie said, getting into the time machine. “Come on”

  “Sam, do we really have to go?” George asked, walking up to Sam

.  “Yeah, George, we do, I promise after this we’ll go visit your future self.”

  George sighed. “Can’t we go now while the others go fix Paul and John’s mess, it’s always about them.”

  “Well, actually, you don’t like Paul that much either.”

  “Really, how come?” 

    Around Paul McCartney’s house, December 9^th, 1980

  “Okay, so I think Paul was in the studio the day after,” Angie said, looking for any signs of Paul.

  “What a drag it must have been,” Paul said.

  Angie and Sam couldn’t help but laugh a little at the comment.

  “Yeah his death was a drag,” Angie said, imitating future Paul.

  “We can’t just go up to them looking like this,” Paul said, worry in his voice. “They’ll recognize us.”

  “Okay, talk in an American accent,” John suggested. “And ruffle your hair or something.”

  “You know what?” Paul said realizing something. “I don’t even care if future me knows it’s us. Besides, won’t he know, having the memory of this?”

  John paused. “True.”

  “Mr. McCartney, sir!” John cried, running up to future Paul. “Can I have your autograph?”

  Young Paul burst out laughing, shoving John playfully in the ribs.

  “I’m sorry young man, the wife and I are going to be late for something,” future Paul spoke, not even bothering to look at John or young Paul.

  “That’s a load of bloody bullshite!” John cried, revealing himself to future Paul.

  Future Paul and Angie stopped dead in their tracks, eyeing John nervously, and young Paul stepped out of the shadows.

  “J-John?” future Paul asked.

  “Paul, is that you?” future Angie asked, looking at young Paul with wide eyes.

  “Yes, don’t ya remember me, luv?” John chuckled, nudging future Paul. “We’re here to talk to ya and tell ya stories of your ever present past.”

  “What are you two doing here?” Angie asked. “Are you guys from our time machine days?”

  “Bloody hell, you stalker!” John cried jokingly.

  “Eh, sod off,” future Paul said. “You guys want a cuppa? Well, Paul, I know you want a cuppa. I- I mean you- always want a cuppa. But John you want one?” Paul invited the two of them into their home.

  “That’d be great, Macca,” John spoke, now getting a good look at future Paul. His hair was graying slightly on the sides, and his face looked more mature.

  The two followed future Paul and Angie inside, sitting down on the couch as Angie made the three of them some tea.

  “So why did you come here?” future Paul asked. “I mean, I probably have a memory of this, but it’s not coming to me right now. Damn loss of memory.” Future Paul chuckled.

  “Apparently we’re not friends now,” John said to future Paul, glaring at him slightly. “What caused that?”

  “Creative differences, I suppose,” future Paul replied. “Plus you went and wrote a bloody hate song about me.”

  “What?!” John sounded shocked. “But I love you, Paulie-Paulie-Paul!”

  “Not in the 70’s or the 80’s,” future Paul said, a frown on his lips. “A pretty face may last a year or two
But pretty soon they’ll see what you can do.”

  “You wrote that about me?” Paul said, turning to John. “I thought we were mates!”

  “We are, I swear! Blame future John, not me!”

  “And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing for years,” future Paul said, looking down at his hands.

  “You need to make up with him,” Paul said. “Apparently you guys are at a bitter point when John dies.”

  “And when is that?” future Paul asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “It was supposed to be yesterday, but George and Sam stopped it,” John replied.

  “Sam?” future Angie said, peering around the corner. “Haven’t seen her in years!”

  “AND, you need to reconnect with George,” John said. “You need to be as close as we are in 1963.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” future Paul replied. “But I don’t think they’ll want any part of it.”

  “We can put a fix to that.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  “No problem, Macca.”

  “We should be going, the others are waiting,” Paul spoke.

  “I’ll call you right now!” future Paul said, picking up his phone. “I wouldn’t be able to stand this grudge for much longer. It happened over stupid, silly things.”

  “So how’d it go?” Ringo asked.

  “He’s gonna call future John right now,” Paul said, a smile lighting up his face. “They’re gonna make up.”

  “And future George too,” John added.

  “That’s great!” Angie cried. “And what am I like?”

  “Same old Angie.”

  “That’s good then.”

  “Come on, let’s go back to the sixties,” Sam said, grabbing George’s hand and dragging him into the telephone booth. “Get back to where we once belonged…” Sam sang, trailing off when she caught Angie giggling.

  The rest filed into the telephone booth, whisking them away once again to 1963.

We All Live in a Blue Time Machine - Chapter 8

  ”George?” future John said with a confused look on his face, looking at the young George in front of him.

  George looked around nervously, hoping for a little help from his friends but not getting any. “No, I’m not George”, he said, his hands scraped from his fall and shaking with nervousness.

  “You look a lot like my old mate George Harrison from when around 15 years ago,” John said, looking over George.

  “I get that a lot,” George replied, finally finding an excuse. “But I’m not him, just a big fan.”

  “Well that makes one of us,” John replied bitterly.

  George looked at him weirdly, having just been insulted by the future version of one of his best mates. “Oh come on, he’s not that bad. He made your band a thousand times better.”

  “Oh, you mean I made him a thousand times better,” John’s tone was now harsh, reliving bitter memories. “Then he goes and rights me out of his book, a swine, ain’t he, that George?” John laughed to himself. “But enough about him. You scraped your hands when you fell, you wanna go up to my apartment so I can give you a some ice or something?”

  “No, that’s alright.” George was now in a hurried rush to get back to 1963, where he belonged and wanted to stay.

  “Well, it’s the least I can do. You saved me,” future John said, pointing the way to his apartment.

  George looked back at the gang. “Come back!” Sam mouthed, but it was too late.

  Sam ran after him, yelling “Hey, wait for me!”

  Future John looked back at Sam. “Who are you?” he asked, looking her over.

   “She’s my girlfriend,” George blurted out. “Can she come with us?”

  John nodded and started walking, Sam and George following behind him.

  Meanwhile, Angie, John, Paul and Ringo were freaking out.

  “What do we do know?” John asked. “They just left with future me!”

  “Wait for them,” Ringo said, sighing with obvious annoyance at the situation.

  “Come on guys, it’s New York in 1980, let’s go sightseeing!” Angie said, trying to brighten everyone’s mood.

  “But it’s dark out,” Ringo replied.

  “You obviously don’t know how beautiful Times Square is at night,” Angie laughed as she started walking, the others following behind her.

  —-

  “So how old are you?” John asked George. They were now in John’s apartment, Sam and George looking around nervously.

  “Twenty,” George replied, trying not to look John in the eyes for fear of him seeing through his lies.

  “Ah, a youngin’! I’m twice yer age, son.”

  “I really like your apartment,” Sam said, changing the topic so George didn’t have to keep up his disguise much longer.

  “Thanks, most of it is Yoko’s idea, but I picked out this here couch and those curtains.”

  There was an awkward silence, and both Sam and George noticed John was still looking over George, still not sure about him.

  “Sorry for starin’, but you sure look a lot like George,” John said, looking George in the eyes for a brief moment before George quickly looked away, grabbing on to Sam’s hand for safety.

  “Are you sure he left you out of his book? Doesn’t seem much like him,” George said, immediately regretting bringing the subject up as soon as those words escaped his lips.

  “Oh, that bloody bastard left me out of his book alright,” John complained, anger now taking over his voice.

  “Actually, Mr. Lennon-“ Sam spoke, but she was cut off with a rampaging John.

  “Fucking arsehole. Doesn’t want anythin’ to do with me, even though I let him in my fucking band! The Beatles were my band, I know he’s denying that but they were. They weren’t his or Paul’s, and for God’s sake, not Ringo’s. Mine!”

  “Mr. Lennon…”

  “What?!” John snapped back.

  “Uhm…”

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you,” John’s voice suddenly turned apologetic.

  “It’s fine… but, uhm, have you actually read all of George’s book?”

  “No, but I read most of it, and from the likes of it, he hasn’t mentioned me-“

  “He does.”

  “What?”

  “He mentions you, I swear to God. You have to read the entire thing.”

  “That’s bullshite.”

  “No, the next time you have the opportunity, read the entire thing. I guarantee you won’t regret it.”

  “Well, thank you, I guess.”

  “I don’t want a friendship like that to be ruined by something so small.”

  “Agreed… I think I’ll call him today.”

  “That sounds fantastic.”

  “You know what? I’ll call him now, invite him over! Young lad, you’re gonna meet your look alike!”

  “No!” George practically shouted. “That’s alright, he won’t want to see me.”

  “I’ll tell him you saved my life, then he’ll have to come! Maybe he’ll bring that wife of his over as well.”

  “Pattie?” Sam asked, referring to Pattie Boyd.

  “No, that’s Clapton’s wife. He’s married to this Samantha gal.”

  Sam smiled, squeezing George’s hand tightly.

 “What does she look like?” Sam asked, desperate to know about her future self.

  “She’s got these big, brown eyes- the same as yours, actually!” John looked into Sam’s eyes, but hers quickly darted away.

  “How long have they been married?” George asked, smiling back at Sam.

  “Not quite sure myself. Seems like forever since the wedding, honestly. But I just remember at that wedding is when Paul proposed to Angie.”

  Sam’s smile brightened, thinking of her best friend finally getting what she wanted. “That’s sweet.”

  “For a George fan, you guys don’t know too much about him!” John joked.

  “We’re from a private school,” Sam cut in. “Not allowed on too many holidays, and we don’t get too many pop culture news there.”

  “Ah, I see. Can I get you guys anything? Tea, coffee, liquor?” John laughed. “Some pot if you’re into that?”

  “No thanks,” George said, before Sam herself could answer.

  “I’m going to go make myself some tea then, feel free to look around. Just don’t take anything.”

  John walked out of the room, leaving Sam and George behind and alone together on his couch.

  “We’re going to get married,” Sam said, smiling and hugging George tightly.

  “I really wish he hadn’t told me that,” George said, pulling away from the hug. “Now it’s not going to be a surprise when I do.”

  “I’ll forget about it by then,” Sam smiled, looking George in the eyes. “Besides, you can always change your mind.”

  “I definitely don’t want to, especially now.” George smiled, but then he remembered something and sighed.

  “What’s wrong, luv?”

  “It’s nothing, really…” George trailed off. “It’s just everything’s been so stressful lately. I really enjoy your company, but… well, John just almost died.”

  “I know, it’s a little scary. But it’s life, we’re just trying to make it better.”

  “Everything is so complex now…”

  “You need to unwind.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mr. Lennon?” Sam yelled out, and John appeared from the kitchen.

  “Yes?”

  “Were you jokin’ about that pot?”

  “No, unless you guys are cops.” John laughed. “You need a light?”

  “Yeah, that’d be fantastic.”

  “Alright, gimme a minute.”

  “Are you fucking crazy?” George said once John had left once again. “Drugs?”

  “Come on, you do them like there’s no tomorrow in the future.”

  “But doesn’t smoking kill me?”

  “Just cigarettes. Come on, one drag won’t kill you.”

  “Have you ever done pot before?”

  “No, but I figured, if it’s John Lennon’s pot, might as well.”

  —-

  “Thank you so much, Johnny!” Sam called, hugging John on their way out.

  “No problem- uh, I never learned your names! Sorry, but what do you lovies call yerselves?”

  “Woah, this stuff’s makin’ me forget my name,” George said, laughing at himself. “I’m… uh-“

  “Dylan, and I’m Sara,” Sam interrupted.

  “Nice to meet you all. Stop by anytime you’re in the area, alright?”

  “Thanks! See ya.”

 George and Sam walked out to the front of the apartment buildings, looking for the others but not finding them. They decided just to wait in front, sitting on a bench nearby.

  “Dylan? Sara? Where’d you come up with those names?” George asked Sam.

  “Had a Bob Dylan song stuck in my head, figured I’d use it somehow.”

  “Ah.” George laughed for no apparent reason, probably the drugs.

  “Where do you suppose the others are?”

  George was about to reply, when all of a sudden, Ringo, Angie, Paul, and young George appeared from around the corner.

  “Hey, where were you guys?” Sam called out, her voice slurring from the drugs. “We were lookin’ for you all over!”

  “No we weren’t, we were sittin’ and waitin’!” George laughed.

  “Uhm.. alright?” Angie asked. “Anyways, how’d it go with future John?”

  “Great! He gave us some…” George cut himself off. “Magic.”

  “Magic?” Paul asked, laughing at George. “Okay, and I’m a knight in shining armor.”

  “Well actually, you do get knighted,” Angie said, smiling at Paul.

  “Really?” Paul laughed, smiling back. “I guess then John did give you some magic.”

  “Are you guys on drugs?” John asked, looking into Sam’s eyes.

  “No, magic!” George said, a little upset. “What do you not get about that?”

  “Come on,” Ringo interrupted. “Let’s go back to the sixties.”

  “Sounds good,” said Angie, and the six of them walked back toward that familiar blue phone booth to go back to where they once belonged.

We All Live In a Blue Time Machine - Chapter 7

  “So what happens to us when John dies?” Paul asked Angie, a worried tone in his voice. Paul, John, and Angie were still in John and Paul’s room, still talking about what would happen to them in the future.

  “Well, the Beatles have already broken up,” Angie replied, still nervous talking to Paul about such a heavy topic. “George and John get into a fight and never make up, but the rest of you guys are good.” Angie explained.

  John frowned, still upset about hearing how his life would end. “Speaking of George, I’m going to go look for him.”

  John got up, walking out the door, his shoulders slumping as he did so. He was obviously upset, and Paul let out a little sigh, seeing his best mate so worried. It was really a sight that freaked him out.  Paul and Angie were now alone, and Angie got a little nervous, being alone with such an incredible man.

  ”I hope John’s ok,” she said, suddenly even more nervous, now that she was finally alone with Paul.

   ”Oh, he’ll probably be fine. Don’t worry, luv.” Paul let out a weak smile, but Angie could tell he was trying to be happy.

  Angie stared into Paul’s eyes, not caring if she got lost in them. She always dreamed of dating Paul when he was young, and now she felt like she was living the dream, being this close to her childhood dreams.

  Suddenly, Angie’s brain and heart worked up the courage in unison and leaned in, kissing Paul softly on the lips before pulling away quickly.

   ”I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to I-” Angie desperately begged for Paul’s forgiveness.

  She was interrupted by Paul. “It’s ok, I kind of liked it.”

  Paul kissed back, kissing her with the lips she always dreamed she would someday meet. They pulled away after a moment, and Angie smiled.

  “I just always pictured myself with someone like you,” she said, a smile still lighting up her lips. “Just never thought I would ever actually meet you, especially when you’re this age.”

  “Oh come on, there’s no black-haired and charming young boy named Paul in your time?” Paul chuckled sarcastically.

  ”No, but we have blonde-haired annoying boys.”

  Paul laughed. “Well you are more than welcome to stay here.”

  “Thanks, but people will wonder where we are,” Angie replied, suddenly frowning and remembering the decade she usually lived in. “But I wouldn’t mind it at all. I mean, Sam and I don’t fit in at school at al.l”

  “Let’s just worry about right now, and hope time passes slow.” Paul smiled that genuine smile of his eyes, making Angie instantly melt.

  John walked to Ringo and George’s room, feeling more depressed than he could ever remember. He was so worried about the future, and he hoped that somehow Sam and Angie could fix everything. Tears started to form in the corner of his eyes, but he wiped them away with his sleeve, forcing himself to man up. Fortunately, he got to their door before anything else could happen. John raised his hand up and quickly knocked on the door, desperate to talk to Ringo and George. Ringo opened the door nearly right away.

  ”We need to go,” he said, his voice obviously showing how impatient he was, and Ringo noticed instantly.

  “George, Sam, come here,” he called out, pulling the two lovebirds away from whatever they were doing so that they could come see what John wanted.

  “Sam, do me and George really have a fight and never make up?” John asked, his eyes staring fiercely at Sam, making her at a loss for words.

  Sam just stared at him, not knowing how to respond, but somehow finding her voice before it got too awkward. “Not now John, we’re going to change that, don’t worry.”

  George, Sam, John, and Ringo grabbed Paul and Angie and wandered down the street to the familiar telephone booth that had brought them there.

  “What the hell are we doing?” Paul asked, still not sure why they had dragged him along.

  “You’ll see,” Sam said, her voice obviously sounding nervous, as it was caked with fear.

  Within minutes, the six of them were instantly transported from 1963 to a very familiar date, December 8^th, 1980.

  “It’s so cold,” John complained, hugging himself and looking around at the unfamiliar sights around him.

  “We’re almost at the Dakota,” Sam said, looking forward and instantly recognizing a certain building, but Angie beat her too it.

  “Wait guys, there it is!” Angie said, pointing to a big building.

  “Wow John, you’ve got a nice place,” Paul said, comforting John and patting him on the back.

  “And there’s John!” cried Angie, thinking her eyes were playing tricks on her

  Everyone looked at future John, their eyes scanning him with an emotion they didn’t recognize. They hid behind the building so nobody would see them, desperately hoping future John wouldn’t see them as well.

  “And there’s the killer…” Sam said with suspense in her voice, a side of her that made everyone else’s bones chill.

  “What are we going to do?!” Ringo cried out. He was so scared, probably for the first time in a long time.

  They all looked at each other, not knowing what to do. Suddenly George worked up the courage and started running towards future John, yelling “John watch out!”

  “George, no!” they all yelled, but George ignored them, desperate to save his friend.

  “That guy has a gun!” he cried, notifying the police that were ever so conveniently at the area.

  Mark Chapman was instantly surrounded by police men, dragging him away and saving John’s life. George pushed past future John, accidentally shoving him to the ground as he did so. The two of them fell to the ground, and the others looked at them in horror.

  ”Oh my gosh, what did he do?!” Angie cried, looking around nervously.

  “Aw, I know there was a reason he was my hero,” Sam said, smiling to herself.

  “Is he ok?” John asked.

  They turned their heads back to George and future John, watching in almost horror as future John struggled to get up once again. When he did stand up, he saw a young boy who had fallen to the ground, and he stretched his arm to help him up. Before they knew it, future John and George made eye contact, and at that moment, future John instantly recognized him.