Issac is currently living in Birmingham on business, so we communicate primarily by phone. He's in finance, which my dad likes.

"How've you been holding up, love?" he asked me.

I sighed softly, "I'm doing the best I can..."

"You sound stressed, love, are you doing alright? Have you been getting enough sleep?"

"I'm fine," I replied. Issac is a bit older than me; he's 28, I'm 22. As such, he has a tendency to baby me.

"You know I don't like you hanging around those Beatles..." he remarked sourly.

"Yes, I know," I sighed again despondently, reminded of my earlier encounter with them.

"I'm serious," Issac persisted. "I don't want you getting involved in any of their bollocks! Their professional affairs are even messier than their hairstyles! Those boys attract trouble like a magnet, do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand," I answered absentmindedly; I knew the drill by now.

"Good. Pretty soon your little stint with them will be over, anyway. Then, you can come live with me and we'll build a life together in Birmingham. Doesn't that sound nice?"

I winced, "That...sounds amazing," I said slowly, trying to convince myself.

The truth is that I like living in London, dreary weather notwithstanding. There's so much more going on here and I like having my own flat. Issac is pleasant company, he and I get on well enough, but I enjoy living by my own rules. For the first time in my life, I feel somewhat independent. Alas, as long as my dad is in control, true freedom never fully feels within my reach. 

***

With today's phone call not going as planned, I was feeling more drained than ever. The last thing I wanted to do was pass by the studio again. When I came out of my office, I saw that only John was there. He was humming and plucking at his guitar. I never know quite how to react when one or more of them is deep into their songwriting. Surely, I didn't want to interrupt a mastermind at work. 

Suddenly, the song switched keys and he began to sing quietly: 

He's a real nowhere man
Sitting in his nowhere land
Making all his nowhere plans for nobody

Doesn't have a point of view

Knows not where he's going to
Isn't he a bit like you and me?
Nowhere man please listen
You don't know what you're missing
Nowhere man, the world is at your command

He's as blind as he can be

Just sees what he wants to see
Nowhere man, can you see me at all
Nowhere man don't worry
Take your time, don't hurry
Leave it all till somebody else
Lends you a hand . . .

Then, the guitar strumming trailed off as his signature, drone-like voice came to an abrupt stop. He looked up, turned his head to my direction and smiled at me. 

"Did you like it?" he asked eagerly.

I nodded in slight awe, "It was nice. Who was it about?"

John chuckled, "The Nowhere Man!"

I smirked and shook my head, "I know that, but who is he supposed to be?"

John waved his hand dismissively, "Ah, he's whoever you want him to be!"

I pondered this for a moment. The song sounded pretty personal, as if it were about him. Then again, some of these lyrics sounded like they could apply to anybody. 

"I can kind of relate..." I said uncertainly.

John raised an eyebrow and looked straight at me, "Oh?"

I nodded in affirmation, "Sometimes I feel like I'm going nowhere in life. Except instead of making plans for nobody, I go along with what everyone else wants..."

John smirked, "I never pegged Abbie Greene, the bright individualist, as just another people-pleaser!" 

 I shrugged, "Well, what can I do? There are some things you just..." I paused hesitantly, "can't control..."

"That's not true! The power lies within you, Abbie! Tell me, what is it that you really want to do?"

I sighed in resignation, "...I don't really want to be a secretary. My dad just wants me to be a well-behaved lady, taking calls and stacking papers, just as I'm supposed to do."

John nodded, "Hm, but what is it you really want?"

"I want to be a writer," I confessed, looking down almost shamefully.

John's eyes widened, "A writer!? Abbie, that's amazing! I love writing! I just published my second book!"

I nodded with a slight chuckle, "I know, but there's no career for me in that..."

"What are you talking about!? That's complete bullocks, Abbie! Do you know how many times I was told my music career would go nowhere? Look at me now!" he sneered and shook his guitar comically. 

I laughed, "But that's different, John, your kind of talent only comes around once every thousand years. Me? I'm not special..."

John shook his head vigorously, "Poppy cock! You're one in a million!"

I smiled. I was definitely grateful for this softer side of John, as opposed to the snippy John I was dealing with earlier.

"Do you love him?" he asked solemnly.

"My dad..?" I guessed, confused by his sudden change in tone.

"Your boyfriend," he stated. 

"Of course I do!" I snapped defensively. "He's sweet, loving and I'm devoted to him!"

"Hm," John uttered, clearly unconvinced.

Admittedly, the question caught me a tad bit off guard. I knew my dad liked Issac; he liked the fact that he could support and provide for me. I have the feeling he pushed me towards him because they're both so much alike. Naturally, my dad needed to know I was with someone who would keep a close, hawkish eye on me at all times. 

Lightening the mood a bit, John beamed and shook his head. "Well, regardless of why you're here, Abbie, I'm glad that you are. We don't normally care much for birds in our studio but you're different. You're a great girl and you make a mean cuppa! You just gotta let your guard down more often. You don't have to be scared around me, I don't bite!" he bore his teeth devilishly as he bit the air. 

I giggled heartily in response, the most carefree and comfortable I had felt around John in a while.

"Unless you want me to!" he added with a wink.

I smirked and shook my head once more, "You know, I gotta admit, I'm happy we got to have this chat!"

"Yeah, I know! Abbie Greene, opening up, what a novel concept!" he chortled.

I raised an eyebrow, narrowing my eyes, "I could say the same thing about you, John Lennon..."

A pleasant silence filled the air for a moment, when all of a sudden Ringo came bursting through the door.

"John, we're getting ready to leave for the photoshoot! Gail, if you changed your mind about coming with us, the invitation is still open!" 

John and I exchanged glances. Now that we were on friendlier terms, a breezy outing didn't seem like such a bad idea.

I smiled brightly, "Sure, why not!?"

NOTE: Okay, first off, HOW  hot is John in that picture!? Also, thank you for reading! It makes me happy to see that this story gaining an audience, no matter how small or sporadic. I have a bunch of ideas but I have no idea how I'm going to connect them all yet. So if all this feels a bit scattered, bear with me! Gail Greene is proving to be a particularly stubborn character to write. She's a hard brain to pick! Anyway, I hope you guys are enjoying this. Cheers! ♥♥♥