Yesterday.

It had been almost 6 months since Anna left me. I should be either over it, or dead, but neither seemed right. I needed her like I needed to breath, and I didn’t really know how to live and not breath.

Today we were leaving for America. I had to admit, I was nervous, but for the past half a year I was on autopilot. I was a robotic mess, that’s what I was.

I had to put on a good mask for everyone else, though. We were as famous as Winston bloody Churchill. I didn’t understand what everyone else saw in us. We were four scruffy lads from Liddypool, not Jesus Christ. We swore, smoked, drank, wore tight pants and had long hair. Most people a couple years ago would rather spit then listen to our music.

“Alright boys, best behavior now. Ringo, straighten your hat, there might be a couple people at the airport.” Brian was fussing around us, and I gulped a bit as he brushed past my leg to smack George who was imitating him. A few months beforehand, Brian took me on a trip to Spain, innocent enough, then I got really hammered, and we almost shagged. Come to find out the next morning that he was desperately in love with me since the moment he saw me, and not to hold it against him. Strangely enough, I didn’t. His sexuality didn’t matter to me at all, he was my dear friend, that was all. I was truly sorry I couldn’t love him back the same way, though. I’d jump in front of a train for that man… but I just can’t love him.

Who knows? Maybe I’ll give up and go gay.

“A couple p-people?” Paul gasped, wide eyed out the window. I followed his gaze to a crowd of at least a few thousand people. My jaw dropped.

“Alright, lots of people.” Brian straightened his tie nervously, and them smiled, trying to calm himself down.

“Okay lads, straight on the plane, a couple of waves.”

We all nodded as the taxi rounded a corner and we jumped out, the waves of people screaming and gushing forward at the sight of us. I sighed, and we ran up the stairs leading to the plane, smiling and waving until we all disappeared on it.

“My EARS!” George said, fake passing out with his hands covering each side of his head. We all laughed nervously, really feeling that way, and looked out the window. Girls were literally punching cops trying to get to us. Pathetic!

“Brian?” I looked over the moment he entered the plane, and he glanced at me, “If I can find a good disguise can I sneak out the back and find some good food? Really fast?”

He let out a deep sigh, then glared, “John, I don’t know if that’s the best idea…”

“a REALLY good disguise! C’mon! Live a little!” I flashed him a smile, one of the same smiles he mentioned on his rant about how much I intoxicated him.

He looked like he was in pain, like he wanted to either punch me in the face or jump out the plane window, but I held by expression. I knew I was being cruel, but I needed to stretch my legs a bit.

“Fine.” He snapped, glaring even harder, “go. Be back in 15 minutes or we’ll leave without you and have Mal and Neil switch off dressing as you.”

I glanced cheekily at our apprehensive Tour manager and Roadie, who both got wide eyed and shook their heads at me.

“Right, lads.” I sang, and looked around. I found a huge trench coat with a large collar, and shoved it on, putting a pair of sunglasses and a top hat on. I changed into a pair of slightly baggier pants, and then smiled at myself. It was good enough.

I opened the back door to the plane, leading in the airport, and walked off. I flashed my ticket at the attendant lady, and she nodded, as I headed hurriedly to the food court. I could never settle down for a 9 hour plane ride without some food in my stomach, I’d keel over and die. And I despised the little shitty pieces of… shit that they carried around on those trolley carts. They made my stomach want to commit suicide.

I ran up to one of the ladies behind a counter of a deli.

“Excuse me… one ham sandwich please.”

She scowled, and went to fetch it.

“Bad day…” I sighed to myself, and turned around. My eyes grew considerably as they were met with a different pair.

“John?” Anna gasped, biting her lip, “I thought you were supposed to be on the plane!”

My heart lurched forward, as if it, itself, was trying to reach out for her.

“John who?” I turned back around, when she put a hand on my shoulder and spun me back to face her.

“John!”

I grumbled.

“Shh, keep it down, I’m just getting food.”

“Ah.” She nodded, looking down, then looking back up, a frown forming on her lips.

“Listen, John. I don’t want you to hate me, right?”

“I don’t.” I assured her, I hate your blood sucking boyfriend leach thing.

“Promise?”

“I do.”

“Sir!”

I turned around to see the lady in a hairnet shoving a wrapped sandwich at me and holding out her open palm. I sighed, and dropped about 5 shillings into it.

“Have a fantastic day.” I smiled at her, and she grunted in return.

When I went to go, Anna was still in front of me.

“Bye.” I said shortly, walking around her.

“John?” She whispered behind me, her voice cracking as if she was about to cry. I did a pirouette and walked back over to her.

“Yeh?”

“Good luck in the US.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean it.”

I nodded, and turned around quickly, walking as fast as I could about 13 steps, then I stopped. A small flame formed in the pit of my stomach. I couldn’t control it.

I turned and walked back, grabbing her small face in my hands and pressing my lips against hers. She didn’t pull away. I moved my lips in a frantic motion, as did she. It was much like our first kiss… almost 2 years ago, out back of the Cavern. The circumstances were much different now.

There was no guilt in my body for what I was subconsciously doing to my backstabbing best friend, I didn’t play nice. The kiss was more out of need than want.

I finally pulled away, and stared deeply into her eyes for a moment. She was crying.

I turned and ran as fast as I could, guilt starting to seep through my veins. I just went and did exactly what Paul did to me. Great… I was a copier.

I hopped onto the plane, and didn’t say anything. I sat in the corner back seat and ate my ham sandwich in silence.