I lit a cigarette, taking a long drag as the final chords of Twist and Shout faded from my mind. My throat burned, not from the smoke, but from the way I'd screamed through that last song, pouring every ounce of pain into it until there was nothing left inside me. The crowd at The Cavern had gone wild-screaming for more-but none of it mattered. They had no idea what I was trying to drown out. They never could.

The lads had left the stage before me, slapping my back on the way out. Paul gave me that look-the one that said he knew something wasn't right-but he kept moving, probably thinking I'd follow. I didn't.

Instead, I slipped backstage, finding the quiet room at the back of the club. The muffled roar of the crowd was still there, just enough to keep me grounded. Complete silence would've been too much. The faint noise, the hum of life, was a kind of comfort, reminding me that I was still here, still part of this world.

I slumped onto the worn couch, the air thick with smoke and stale beer. My hands shook as I pulled out another Prellie. Just one more-for now. I couldn't afford to crash yet, couldn't let sleep pull me into the dark. If I closed my eyes, I'd see Lucy again, lying pale and broken in that hospital bed.

She'd used my razor.

I leaned my head back against the wall, closing my eyes for just a second as the pill started to hum inside me. Maybe I'd stay up all night. Burn through every thought left in me. Anything to keep Lucy from creeping back into my mind.

The door creaked open. I didn't need to look to know it was Paul. He always had this way of sensing when I was slipping. His steps were soft, barely audible.

"John?" His voice was gentle as he stepped into the dim light. He hesitated, watching me with those eyes that saw through everything. "You alright?"

I kept my eyes closed. I didn't want him to see how red they were, how tired I felt under the buzz. It took a couple of seconds before I could even muster the strength to speak.

"What's the matter, Macca?" I smirked, going for my usual defense. "Jealous of my performance? I know I tore the place down."

Paul didn't laugh. Not even a smile. That wasn't like him. He could usually manage a chuckle, even when he was worried. But tonight? He wasn't buying it.

"You were wild out there," he said, steady but tinged with concern. "Gave it everything. But something's off, mate. You're not fooling me."

I cracked an eye open, just enough to see him standing there, arms folded, watching me like he'd rehearsed this conversation. Maybe he had. Maybe he'd been watching me too closely tonight. He always watched too closely.

"I'm fine," I lied, flicking the cigarette ash onto the floor. "Just needed a bit of a kick, you know. Nothing to worry about."

He didn't move. Didn't buy it. Of course, he didn't.

"John," he said again, but this time it was more of a command, like he was telling me to stop running. "What's really going on?"

I sighed, flicking the cigarette away before sitting up. The buzz from the Prellie was already wearing off-or maybe it was just that the weight of everything else was too much for it to cut through. I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, rubbing my face with my hands like I could scrub away the guilt and pain if I tried hard enough.

"Lucy's in the hospital," I muttered, the words rough and jagged, like they'd been lodged in my throat for too long. "She used my razor. Slashed her wrist."

Paul's face went pale, shock settling over him. "Oh, John..."

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling the heaviness sink deeper into my chest. "She came to me right after it happened. She was so shaken, Paul, and I didn't know what to do. I held her, tried to comfort her, but I failed. I couldn't protect her."

Paul hesitated, his voice low. "Why did she...?"

"She told me she was assaulted by her neighbour," I said, the words cutting through the air like knives. "Someone she trusted. A man who was supposed to be like a father figure to her."

Paul fell silent, absorbing the weight of what I'd just said. His eyes were full of empathy, but I could see something else there too-a dawning realization of just how deep this went.

"She was so hurt, Paul," I continued, feeling the burn of tears that threatened to spill over. "I thought I was helping her, but then she saw my razor, and I wasn't there to stop her. I failed her." The image of Lucy lying unconscious on the bathroom floor flashed vividly in my mind, and the tears I'd been holding back slipped down my cheeks. I buried my face in my hands.

"John," Paul's voice was soft. I felt his hand on my shoulder, steady. "Look at me, mate."

It took a few seconds before I could bring myself to meet his eyes. I didn't want him to see me like this-vulnerable, ashamed.

When I finally looked up, Paul's voice was quiet but firm. "You didn't do this to her. You couldn't have known."

I shook my head, guilt tightening its grip. "Her mother blamed me. When she found out, she said it was my fault. 'If anything happens to my daughter, I'll hold you responsible.' That's what she said. And I hear it over and over."

Paul frowned, but I could see the understanding in his eyes. "She was scared, John. People say things when they're scared."

"It doesn't matter," I snapped, sharper than I meant to. "She was right. I should've been there. I should've seen the signs. And now Lucy's in the hospital because of me."

"That's not fair," Paul said, his frustration creeping in. "You didn't make her do this. You can't blame yourself for what someone else did to her."

I stared at my hands, my voice barely a whisper. "But I wasn't there when she needed me the most. What if she hates me now? What if her mother won't let me see her? I don't know if I can face them, Paul. I'm terrified of what I'll find when I go back."

Paul's gaze didn't falter. "You won't know unless you try, John. You can't run from this. Linda came to you because she trusts you. Don't let fear stop you from being there for her."

I pressed my palms to my eyes, trying to hold back the rising wave of guilt. "But what if I mess it up again? What if I can't help her?"

"Then you keep trying" , Paul said, leaning closer. "You love her, don't you?"

I froze for a second. The truth hung heavy in my chest. "I do," I admitted, the words escaping before I could stop them. "I love her, Paul. I never meant to, but I do. She means everything to me, and I'm terrified I've ruined it all."

Paul's expression softened, his voice steady. "Then go to her. Show her you care. She needs to know she's not alone."

But something darker surged inside me, something familiar but unsettling. "And then there's the bastard who did this to her," I muttered, my voice low and shaking. "What I really want is to make him pay. I want to kill him, Paul."

Paul's eyes widened in shock. "John-"

"No, listen!" I interrupted, my heart pounding, anger roaring through me. "He took something from her she can never get back. How can I just sit here and let him walk free? I want him to suffer."

"Revenge isn't the answer," Paul said, his voice steady but firm. "Hurting him won't heal Lucy. It won't take away her pain."

Lucy's words echoed in my mind: Violence won't fix it. Please, leave it alone.

"But it'll make me feel better," I shot back, my fists clenching, struggling to silence her voice. "I can't sit by while he goes on with his life. It makes me sick."

"I get it," Paul said softly. "But acting on that anger will only make things worse-for you and for her. Do you really think it'll bring her peace?"

I stayed quiet, the weight of his words settling over me. I didn't want to admit it, but I knew he was right. Lucy had been right too, when she begged me not to turn to violence.

"I don't know what else to do," I sighed, my voice weary and raw.

"Then focus on what you can do," Paul said gently. "Be there for her. Help her heal. That's how you show her you love her."

I nodded slowly, feeling the storm inside me begin to calm. Maybe Paul and Lucy were right. Maybe my focus needed to shift from revenge to healing. Lucy needed me, and I couldn't let my rage stand in the way.

"Okay," I whispered, barely audible. "I'll try to keep my head straight. For her."

Paul's expression softened with relief, a hint of a smile breaking through. "That's all I'm asking, mate. Now, promise me you'll go and see Lucy first thing tomorrow. She'll be waiting for you."

I nodded, feeling a small wave of calm wash over me. It wasn't much, but it was enough for now. A glint of hope, maybe. But just as quickly, anxiety crept back in.

"Paul," I started, my voice trembling slightly, "I... I don't think I can do this alone. What if her mother's there? What if she won't let me in? I could really use your support."

Paul raised an eyebrow, a slow smile creeping across his face. "You want me to come with you?"

"Yes," I admitted, the words spilling out before I could stop them. "I need someone who understands. I can't face them by myself. I'm terrified of what I'll say, and how they'll react."

Paul's smile widened, the warmth in his eyes giving me a bit of strength. "You got it, mate. I'll be there. We'll face it together. Just remember-you're not alone in this."

The thought of Paul by my side brought a flicker of hope to the pit of despair I'd been trapped in. Maybe, with him there, I could find the courage to face Lucy and her family. Maybe I could start making things right.

"Thanks, Paul," I said, feeling a tight knot in my stomach start to loosen. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Paul chuckled softly, the sound easing the tension between us. "You'd be lost, mate. Don't forget, I'm the one who keeps you on the straight and narrow."

"Yeah, I've noticed," I replied, a faint smile breaking through the heaviness.

The rest of the night passed in a blur, a haze of shared stories and hollow laughter. Every joke felt empty against the reality waiting for me at the hospital. I knew I had to confront it all soon, but I could still feel the anger simmering beneath the surface. It was a constant struggle-trying to stay strong for Lucy while grappling with the rage I felt toward the man who'd hurt her.

As we were getting ready to leave The Cavern, George and Ringo appeared at the door, their faces lit up by the dim hallway lights. George's hair fell into his eyes, giving him that effortlessly cool look, while Ringo, with his trademark grin, lightened the mood instantly.

"Oi, what's with the serious faces?" Ringo asked, bouncing into the room with his usual playful energy. "You two look like you've just come from a funeral."

George, more laid-back, gave us a curious look. "Yeah, come on. We just played a bloody great gig! We should be celebrating, not moping around."

I forced a smile, not wanting to burden them with the weight of what I'd just shared with Paul. "Just thinking about how to top that performance next time," I said, trying to keep it light.

Paul shot me a knowing glance but didn't say anything, for which I was grateful. The last thing I wanted was to unload my troubles onto George and Ringo, not when they had no idea what I was going through.

Ringo grinned, rubbing his hands together. "Celebration sounds good. Let's grab a drink somewhere. John, you were on fire out there! Just don't burn out before the next show, alright?"

I laughed, though it felt forced. "No promises."

George eyed me for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "You alright, mate? You seem a bit off tonight."

"I'm fine, really," I insisted, though my hands were still trembling. "Just had a lot on my mind."

Paul placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, grounding me for a moment. It helped, more than I cared to admit.

"Well then, let's get a drink," George said, clapping his hands. "We'll talk about music, girls, anything but serious stuff tonight, yeah?"

"Deal," I agreed, grateful for the distraction. We headed out into the cool Liverpool night, the hum of the city surrounding us as we walked to a nearby pub.

As we sat down in a cozy corner, the atmosphere buzzed with energy and laughter. The chatter felt distant from the storm in my head, but I tried to push it aside, laughing at Ringo's antics and listening to George talk about a new song idea he'd been working on.

Then, just as I was starting to relax, I felt a pair of eyes on me. I glanced across the bar and spotted a girl-a stunning one at that. Her long, black hair framed her face, and her sharp green eyes held a kind of mischief that would have normally drawn me in without a second thought.

She sauntered over, her hips swaying with a confidence that usually would have been hard to resist. "Hey there, big shot," she teased, leaning against the table, her gaze locked onto mine. "You were incredible tonight at The Cavern. Thought you might want some company... to celebrate."

Her voice was low, sultry, and the offer behind her words was clear. Normally, this was the kind of attention I'd have jumped at. It was practically routine-nights like this, a girl like her, and the thrill of a one-night stand. But tonight? Something felt different.

I glanced at Paul, who raised an eyebrow knowingly but kept quiet. Then I looked back at her, her smile confident, like she already knew the answer I was supposed to give.

But something inside me resisted. A small voice-maybe Lucy's-held me back.

"No, love," I said quietly, almost surprising myself with how easily the words came. "Not tonight."

The surprise in her eyes was unmistakable. She blinked, clearly not used to hearing that answer. "Really? You're turning me down?"

I nodded, the decision feeling strangely right. "Yeah. It's just... not the right time."

She stood there for a moment, blinking as if she couldn't quite believe it. Then, with a small shrug, she straightened up, flipping her hair back. "Alright then. Your loss."

With that, she turned and walked away, her hips still swaying, but the excitement was gone.

As soon as she left, George let out a low whistle. "Blimey, John, I didn't expect that."

Ringo chimed in, grinning. "Yeah, mate, you alright? You looked like you were about to bolt."

I chuckled, though it felt a little forced. "I've got a lot on my mind."

George's expression shifted, more curious now. "You're not seeing anyone, are you? Because that's not the John Lennon we know."

I hesitated, feeling the weight of what I'd been holding back. They were my friends-they deserved to know. "Actually, there's something I've been meaning to tell you both. It's about Lucy."

Their playful expressions faded, replaced with concern and curiosity.

"What about her?" George asked, leaning in.

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the truth settle on my shoulders. "She's in the hospital. She got hurt... badly."

Ringo's grin disappeared, replaced by genuine worry. "Hurt? What happened?"

"She was betrayed by someone she trusted," I explained, carefully choosing my words. "It's complicated, and it's affected her deeply."

I couldn't bring myself to tell them the whole truth-not yet. Lucy had trusted me to keep certain things private. But I needed them to understand at least part of what I was going through.

"I feel like I should've seen it coming," I admitted, my voice quiet. "I should've protected her."

George's eyes widened, shock settling in. "John, that's awful."

Ringo, always the first to offer comfort, leaned in. "Mate, I'm really sorry. We didn't know. What can we do?"

I nodded, grateful for their sympathy but still weighed down by guilt. "I've been doing a lot of thinking... about her. About how I feel."

George raised an eyebrow. "And how do you feel?"

"I love her," I said, the words falling out before I could second-guess them. "I didn't expect it. But I do. And now... I'm scared I've ruined it all."

Both George and Ringo stared at me, stunned. George was the first to speak. "You love her? Like, really love her?"

"Yeah," I said, feeling the weight of the admission settle over me. "I do. And I don't want to lose her."

Ringo shook his head, processing it. "Blimey, John, that's huge."

George clapped me on the shoulder, admiration in his eyes. "You're braver than I thought, mate. This is big."

For the first time in hours, I felt lighter. They didn't judge me. They didn't push. They just accepted it. And with their support, maybe-just maybe - I could face whatever came next.