Yesterday.

What the hell was wrong with Ringo? He’d been in the bathroom for 20 minutes now. Either he had indigestion, or was dead.

I smiled at Mal, and stood up, “I need to stretch.”

“Right.” He nodded, looking down at a random magazine that he had found in the seat pocket. I straightened up, cracked my knuckles, then proceeded to walk over to the bathroom, knocking on the door.

“Alright, Rings?” I yelled.

“Um, yes.” He answered.

“What are you doing, having a party.”

“…..I’m relaxing.”

“Well, can you relax somewhere else? I have to go.”

“Um, no.”

“Please?”

“Come back in 10 minutes.”

“Uhg, RICHARD!” I screamed, banging on the door.

“No, go.” He insisted.

I sighed, walking back over, poking my head on top of John’s seat. I gasped, realizing it was empty. Where could that bugger have gone? Honestly.

I glanced back at George and Neil and Brian, but he wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere on the plane, the cockpit was off limits.

“Brian.” I breathed, cranking my neck, “I think we left John behind.”

“No,” He laughed, “he was here a few minutes ago. He couldn’t have jumped out of the plane, could he?”

I don’t know, you seem to think the sun shines out his ass. I snidely grumbled in my mind, turning back to the bathroom.

Aha.

I banged on the door again, “The jig is up. Open.”

“No!”

“RICHARD FUCKING STARKEY!”

“Don’t be a wank, Paul.”

“Just let me in.”

“Let him in.” John’s voice said wearily, “I want to talk to him.”

Suddenly, the door unlocked. I burst in to see them both sitting on the ground. I closed, and locked the door behind me, and then joined them on the floor.

“What’s up?” I said seriously. This whole ‘bathroom ground chat session’ was not normal in any way.

“A lot of things.” John moaned. I raised an eyebrow, and Ringo very subtly scooted as far away from me as physically possible.

“Start.”

“I…” He began, but trailed off.

“You?”

“I…well… I’m…”

He stopped, took a deep breath, then opened his small eyes back at me with confidence, his jaw clenched.

“I’m in love with her.”

“Who?” Though I knew exactly who he was talking about.

“You know who.”

“So what?” I challenged, “Why does this matter to me?”

He stayed silence, I scoffed.

“She loves me now, JohnJohn. Get over your sad self. Time to wake up and smell the disappointment.” I grinned at him, and leaned back.

I knew I was being harsh, but it was all true. He needed to realize that she was mine now, and I am so much better for her then he was.

He still stayed silent, unable to answer.

“You had your chance.” I sighed, not wanting to mention his old habits.

“I messed up,” He agreed, “But I’m better now.”

“You’re too late.” I didn’t mean to say it, but it slipped out, “And hey, Maybe Brian’s available.”

It wasn’t even two second before his face turned bright red, and his eyes had a flame in them.

Then he calmed, and smiled sweetly.

“Oh really, McCartney? Too bad I already kissed her today.”

My eyes grew, but before I could, he leaped on me, and started landing hard punches in my face. I screamed in pain, blood flinging out of my nose, before I took him over, and kicked him square in the jaw. He flew backwards, holding his face, even more blood dripping down. He was about to jump again, but Ringo leaped in the middle.

“No.” He said simply. “Paul, back. John, stay.”

I stormed out, ignoring the stares I was getting, and sat down in a seat all by myself, glaring out the window.

He kissed her?