"Mate!" John grinned as Paul made his way down the empty Cavern steps, his guitar hung over his shoulder. Paul glanced toward them breifly before staring back down at at his feet as he walked.

"Late, as usual!" George teased, patting Paul's shoulder as he walked passed him. Paul pushed his hand off his shoulder and let out a single fake laugh, placing his guitar down by the stage.

"Aright, Paul?" Pete raised his eyebrows, smiling.

"Alright." Paul spoke in almost a whisper, clearing his throat as he walked over to the bar, "Can I have a beer, please?" The barman nodded with a smile, turning to get a glass. Paul absentmindedly drummed his fingertips against the bar, completely lost in his own thoughts.

"Hows things?" John asked from behind. Paul handed his money to the barman and took the glass from him, taking a large gulp before setting it on the bar, glaring at John while staying quiet as he wiped his top lip with the back of his hand, "Ah.. I'm going to presume they're not so good."

"No." Paul shook his head, "Not at all."

"I'm sorry..." John sighed deeply, staring down at his feet. Paul stayed quiet and took a drink from his glass before lighting himself a cigarette and inhaling a drag. "We'll have a smashing time tonight, you'll be fine once you get up there." John patted his shoulder before going back over to the others. Paul sighed deeply and brought the glass back to his lips, closing his eyes as he emptied more of its contents into his mouth. He weakly tapped the ash at the end of his cigarette into the ashtray sitting on the bar, exhaling the smoke. He didn't even have the energy to do this show tonight. Every time he closed his eyes, every time he blinked, all he could see was Daisy's expression when she told him that it was over... Almost like she even had tears in her eyes when she said it before she turned away, unable to face him.

He picked himself up off the bar stool and swallowed the last mouthful from his glass, placing it down on the bar before walking over to the rest of the band, reaching for his guitar with his cigarette hanging between his lips.

"Are you ready to rock, McCartney?" Pete grinned, twiddling one of his drum sticks between his fingers.

"Sure." Paul shrugged, swinging his guitar strap, which was just made up of a piece of string, over his shoulder. Pete squinted his eyes and followed him toward the stage, looking back at the rest of the band. John walked over to Paul, gesturing for him to come to the back of the stage.

"Mate, are you sure you want to do this?" John raised his eyebrows.

"Do what?" Paul squinted his eyes.

"The gig?" John asked.

"What else have I got?" Paul shrugged, walking back to his spot on the stage. The light shining toward them almost blinded him as he looked out at the audience. The crowd always baffled him, the way they could get everyone singing and dancing, even screaming for them. It seemed like all the girls in the audience wanted him, yet, the only girl he wanted wasn't in the audience. He hadn't lost interest in the band or music, he just couldn't help but let his mind wonder to the woman who was carrying his child.

The show came and went and Paul was in slightly higher spirits. He made his way back over to the bar after hanging his guitar down and ordered himself another drink, pushing his sweaty hair back with his fingers. His eyes followed several girls as they walked to and from the bar, smirking as he made eye contact with a couple of them. Once he had his drink, he leant back against the bar on his elbows and scanned around the room, licking his lips slowly after taking a drink. His eyes fixed on a particular girl that was making her way to the bar, instantly turning to her as she approached it.

"Are you sure you don't want me to get that drink for you, love?" Paul arched a brow, taking a sip from his own.

"I..." She began to speak before looking up at him, blinking hard, "Oh, its you, one of the band members." She bit her lip.

"That's right. You don't seem very impressed." Paul chuckled, placing his drink back down on the bar.

"Oh, no, no, I am! Every girl in Liverpool is talking about you." She felt her cheeks growing slightly pink.

"Oh, they are? Every girl in Liverpool is talking about me? Well, I'm only talking /to/ you." Paul winked. The girl rolled her eyes and tried not to laugh, staying quiet. "Well, am I buying you this drink or what?" Paul asked, speaking slightly lower this time, "Or would you just like a /free/ ticket back to mine?"

"Paul!" The girl gasped, shoving his arm lightly.

"What?!" Paul pouted his lips playfully before drinking the remaining contents of his glass and handing it back to the barman.

"You drink fast." The girl raised her eyebrows.

"I was having a bad night until we started to play." Paul shrugged.

"Whats wrong?" She asked, narrowing her eyebrows. Paul took a deep breath and held his hand out to gently brush her hair behind her ear.

"Nothing.... Nothing to worry your pretty little head about." Paul half smiled, gazing down at her. "Do you want me to grab you a drink and perhaps... Take it to a slightly darker corner of the club?" He tilted his head, lightly brushing his fingertips against her cheek.

"Paul..." She let out a small whimper before shaking her head.

"What?" He studied her face.

"I have a boyfriend." She spoke timidly.

"O-Oh! Sorry, love." Paul widened his eyes, swallowing hard before turning to the bar and ordering himself another drink.

"Oh, so now the offer of buying me a drink is off the cards just because I won't possibly sleep with you?" The girl scoffed.

"Well..." Paul cleared his throat.

"You bastard!" She shook her head, glaring up at him.

"No, that's not what I meant!" Paul narrowed his eyebrows.

"Piss off, Paul. Stay away from me." She spoke in a stern tone, shoving passed him, "I'll get my own drink."

"I didn't-.. That's not what I-..." Paul tried to correct himself before sighing deeply and shaking his head, "Whatever." He groaned and took his drink before walking over to George and Pete, taking a drink from his glass.

"Alright?" George smiled.

"Girls hate me." Paul spoke against the lip of his glass.

"Sorry, what?" Pete squinted his eyes.

"Paul, I think the amount of girls who would be on their knees for you is growing more and more by the minute." George chuckled.

"Yeah, well, maybe not so much for the ones who already have a boyfriend." Paul smiled sarcastically.

"No! You tried to come onto a girl who had a boyfriend?!" Pete laughed out his words, shaking his head.

"Well done, Pete, you mastered listening to me and repeating what I said." Paul spoke in a sarcastic tone.

"Calm down, Macca, I'm sure there's plenty more women you can chat up in here." Pete widened his eyes.

"I thought you didn't want anyone else other than... Daisy?" George narrowed his eyes.

"Yeah, well... I'm just so fed up tonight." Paul sighed.

"And..." George raised his eyebrows.

"It's been a while..." Paul shrugged, "Since I.. Y'know."

"Oh, so you come here all ready to find a bird for the night and the first one you speak to already has a boyfriend?" Pete sniggered, "Is McCartney back in the game?"

"Oh, fuck off, you were never in the game," Paul rolled his eyes, pouring the rest of his beer down his throat before placing the empty glass in Pete's hand, "I'm going for a piss."

He pushed his way through the crowd and toward the men's toilets, joining the queue of the line of men in front of him. He crossed his arms across his chest and groaned, poking his head to the side slightly to look down the queue in front of him. He sighed deeply and chewed his bottom lip, resting his hand over his belt buckle.

"What's the hold up?" John asked as he passed by him, scowling slightly.

"No idea." Paul shrugged, poking his head down the queue again before shaking his head and rolling his eyes, "Fuck it, I'm going outside." He grumbled. Before John even had a chance to respond Paul was already making his way up the stairs and pushing the door open. He glanced both ways before stepping outside and walking a few feet down the busy street before turning a corner and walking between two large bins and into a corner, standing with his legs apart as he started to undo his pants. The music coming from the several bars was echoing up and down the streets as well as the rowdiness of the people in and outside. The fresh air had made him realise that he was starting to become slightly tipsy from the alcohol and not having much food earlier on in the day. He cleared his throat and stumbled side to side slightly as he turned to walk back down the street again, starting to zip his pants back up as he walked.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" A voice suddenly exclaimed in his ear, grabbing the scuff of his shirt and backing him up against the wall, shoving his back against it.

"Wh-What?! Get off me!" Paul scowled, squirming in his grip, "I- I was just-!"

"Just what?! Just talking to my girlfriend?!" He squinted his eyes.

"What?!" Paul shouted, blinking hard.

"In there! You know exactly what I'm talking about, you filthy little flirt." The man shoved him harder against the wall.

"O-Oh.. No, it was a misunderstanding!" Paul shook his head, blinking hard.

"Tell me how it was a misunderstanding, you asked my girlfriend to go back to your house! You offered to buy her a drink and then when you realised there was no chance of her sleeping with you, you suddenly took the offer back!" The man gritted his teeth as Paul continued to wriggle against the wall, "Look at you, you haven't even managed to zip your pants back up after the last one you had down god knows what dirty alleyway."

"I was having a fucking piss, fuck /off/!" Paul grunted as he shoved the man in front of him hard enough to stumble backward as Paul broke free from his grip.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?!" He shouted as he tried to keep his balance, "Sleeping around with any girl who catches your eye, hm?! I thought you had a girlfriend?!"

"Shut up." Paul glared at him, knowing full well the girl at the bar was the first girl he'd spoken to since his and Daisy's last split, let alone slept with someone since.

"I've seen your girl around, you know. She seems to have gotten a little... bigger. Is that why you're trying to fool around with other women, McCartney?" The man raised his eyebrows, looking at Paul with a cocky smile.

"You're playing with fucking fire there, mate..." Paul grumbled under his breath, feeling anger rising in his body.

"What was that, hm?" The man smirked.

"I said you're playing with fucking fire!" Paul yelled, sprinting forward and swinging his arm out for him before gasping as soon as he felt someone restraining his arm from behind.

"Hey, hey! What the hell is going on?!" John shouted trying to stand between the two men.

"I'm going to smash his fucking face in!" Paul flared his nostrils, trying to swing his arm for him again.

"What, is that before or after you 'smash' my girlfriend?!" The man continued to wind him up.

"Oh, for fuck sake, Paul..." John laughed under his breath, rolling his eyes.

"Go back to your own girlfriend, McCartney, and stay away from mine." The man squinted his eyes, breathing heavily before turning away from them both.

"Fuck off!" Paul shouted, trying to walk closer to him again.

"Leave it, Paul. Leave it!" John sighed, grabbing Paul's shoulders and forcing himself in the other direction as the man walked away. Paul grunted loudly and shook John's hands off his shoulders, shoving his hands into his leather jacket pockets, "What happened?"

"That bastard tried to fucking strangle me for talking to his girlfriend." Paul shrugged.

"Paul, you really need to carefully pick your birds." John teased.

"I just wanted to meet a girl, have a drink, take her home..." Paul sighed, shaking his head.

"You really did come out here to piss, didn't you? You impatient little bastard." John laughed out his words as Paul turned in the opposite direction, zipping his pants back up fully.

"Piss off, can't I just have fun with a girl anymore?" Paul groaned, taking a deep breath, "They all seem to run away from me, apparently."

"Just because you've spoken to one girl and she didn't drop to her knees because she had a boyfriend, it doesn't mean that every girl on the planet hates you." John scowled.

"She does..." Paul grumbled, staring down at his feet.

"Who...?" John blinked hard.

"She does! Daisy! There!" Paul slurred out his words, marching toward the window of the bar opposite the street and slamming both of his palms flat against it several times, "Can't you see what you're doing to me, Daisy?! You're breaking my fucking heart!" He yelled, feeling tears starting to roll down his cheeks.

"Mate, she's not there..." John narrowed his eyebrows, quickly following him over and placing his hand on the back of his shoulder. Paul trembled madly as his eyes pierced through the window, weakly touching his palms to the window again. "Paul, you need to calm down. Come and have a cig or something. Come inside and sit down, you're letting everything get to you all of a sudden."

"But she's... She's shattered my heart and she's right there." Paul's words almost came out in a whisper as John let out a deep sigh, forcing Paul away from the window.

"She's not, Paul." He spoke in a stern tone, shaking his head and reaching into his pocket to find his packet of cigarettes. He lit one and gestured it in Paul's direction, raising his eyebrows, "Have one of these and come back down into the club."

Paul grumbled to himself as he took the cigarette from John and reluctantly turned to walk back down the steps and into The Cavern, taking a long, heavy drag before exhaling the smoke. He walked up to the bar and sat at one of the stools, placing an order for another beer with the barman.

"Everything alright?" Pete asked as he spotted Paul by the bar. Paul nodded but didn't say anything, taking another drag from the cigarette. "Where did you go? I thought you were queueing for the bathroom, but then you just disappeared." Pete scowled.

"I was. The queue was too long." Paul shrugged, paying the barman as he handed him his drink.

"You filthy little bastard." Pete laughed out his words, shaking his head. Paul stumbled slightly, quickly grasping onto the bar as he almost tumbled off his seat. "You, alcohol, and fresh air really don't mix." He widened his eyes, helping Paul regain his balance, "Maybe you should order yourself a water."

"I don't want water... I want her... Or to forget about her completely. But both seem pretty damn impossible." Paul slurred under his breath, tapping the end of his cigarette into the ashtray.

"Mr. McCartney, phone call for you." The barman called from the far end of the bar. Paul sighed and shook his head, putting his hand up.

"I don't want to talk to anybody." He grumbled.

"But, Mr. McCartney, they insist it's important." The barman narrowed his eyebrows. Paul rolled his eyes and gripped onto the bar again as he stepped down off the stool, making his way to the end of the bar where the phone was placed. He inhaled deeply from his cigarette, almost holding his breath before exhaling.

"What?" He asked bluntly as he took the phone and brought it to his ear, awaiting the voice on the other side.

"Congratulations, Paul. You're a dad."

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Thank you for reading this chapter! I know I haven't updated in a while, sorry! I hope you enjoyed reading it, please let me know what you think :)