“Watch where yer fucking gooi- Macca?”
Paul nodded “Just heading for the loo” he muttered
George nodded “Er… this is Debbie”
“Hi” Debbie gave him a meek wave
He shrugged “Carry on or whatever” Paul breezed past them an headed for the lav. Really he was just trying to get out of the room. He couldn’t be in the same room with her. It was horrible. On the one side Gabby was a very nice girl on the inside and out. Especially on the outside. This would have been ok had she not A) best friends with his lead guitarist or B) one of his closest friends.
You just do not shag your closest friends.
To make it even more confusing, even if he was attracted to her immensely, Paul knew that she wasn’t the *one*. It really made sense with startling clarity all of that ‘in love’ ‘love in general’ stuff George had been going on about. And now, he had to deal with it. Why can’t you just be friends with someone and still have sex? Would it ruin the friendship so much? Did that make them more then friends? What would she think? What would everyone else think? Why did anyone need to know.
He rested his hands on the cool tile counter and stared into the mirror.
This was so fucked up.
Paul stared at his reflection. No girl, no manager, no decent song in weeks, no further purpose in life past the cavern. Puppy dog eyes be damned, this was the face of someone whose future was teetering on the edge. Fame. Poverty. There was no in between. That was what it was going to come down too. A top forty single that once the royalties came in, they could buy houses and afford a couple kids with out having to work full time driving a bus to Penny Lane.
Paul didn’t want to drive a bus.
And what about *her*. She was obviously going to succeed just fine. NYU diploma, promised place in the Royal College of Art. God knows how much money she would get from the exocentric old Aunt. It made him sick to think about it. It just wasn’t fair. Why were some people allowed to leave and blossom into something great while others were forced to stay where they have been all their lives and just… decay.
Obviously, it was not pleasant to think about the future. A future that Paul was almost certain included driving a bus.
But then there was that tiny glimmer of light. Top group in Liverpool, top group in England. Maybe it would happen. He knew they were special somehow. But couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
Didn’t matter.
Thinking about the future will only end in deep depression.
Paul pushed those thoughts out of his mind and hopped up on the counter top. He leaned his back against the mirror and let out a long sigh. Think about other things. Like what you’ll do about Gabby, he urged himself.
You could be friends with a girl, and still shag her without it meaning anything. He was sure that applied to him. But what about her.
***
Gabrielle was mixing things. She didn’t know what, but she was mixing them all the same. She raised her glass to her nose and sniffed it. Wow. What was that?
She looked at the murky glass and laughed before sipping It carelessly. “Ewww” she managed to get out after gasping up a storm. The sparse people near the drink table giggled at her antics.
Paul. What an idiot.
She took another sip and felt as if her throat might fall off from the sensation of all that alcohol burning down her esophagus.
Stupid Paul. She wasn’t a tease. *HE* was a tease. And she intended to tell him that next time she saw him. Which was going to be when he came around and apologized.
As if on cue someone tapped her on the shoulder.
Low and behold.
It was Paul.
He grabbed a hold of her elbow and pulled her close to him “I’m sorry I was git” he murmured. Gabrielle nodded blankly, her knees went wobbly. Stupid Paul. She meant to tell him off
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked her. She nodded again.
“In private”