GEORGE

"What do you think she's doing here?"

I sighed. "I don't know, John. She probably works here."

"But this is the first time we've seen her." John was fidgeting, cracking his knuckles nervously.

"Then she's probably just visiting, or maybe she got a job today." John didn't seem convinced. His eyes stared down at his knuckles.

"She's changed," he finally said. He looked up at me. "She looks so different."

"So do we," I replied. "It's been some time."

That seemed to agitate him. His eyes flashed around the room, and he cracked his knuckles again. I was getting nervous just looking at him.

"John," I said, trying to be consoling. "Don't worry about it. She's in the past. You're with... Yoko now." It took all my strength not to spit her name. I regained my composure and put my hand on his shoulder.

John just nodded. He sucked in a breath, and stood up quickly. I watched him as he walked out of the studio and to Yoko, planting a kiss on her cheek. The two of them left without a good-bye.

I remembered that we had a meeting, but I hadn't the time to let John know, and I didn't care much anyway. I wasn't up to going, myself. I just wanted to lie in bed, no work, just me, and Pattie-

As soon as her name entered my mind, another name joined it. Eric.

I suddenly became angry. I sat and seethed, thinking of my closest friend professing his love for my wife.

But as soon as it came, the anger gave way to exhaustion. I let go of the moment, feeling too tired to care.

I leaned back in my chair, and picked up my guitar, absentmindedly plucking a few strings.

Why was everyone and everything so uptight?

I strummed some chords and began to sing.

"Hello little girl," I sang softly. "Hello little girl."

I fiddled around with the chords, trying to remember them. It had been years since we played that song.

"When I see you everyday, I say...." I looked for the chord, "...Mm, hello little girl. When you're... passing on your way, I say, mm, hello little girl........."

PAUL

I sat at the table, strumming my fingers against it. Ringo sat across from me, a bottle in his hand. He took sips from it every now and then.

"May we start the discussion?" Allan Klein sat at the other end of the table, as usual. Boredom, along with sweat, glistened on his face. Anger boiled in me as soon as he opened his mouth.

"There's nothing to discuss," I grumbled. "There are two Beatles, when there should be four."

At that moment, George walked in and sat down at the nearest chair.

"Where were you?" I asked. "And where's John?"

George flashed his tired-looking eyes at me. His brows were furrowed. "I don't know where he went," he snapped. "And I was somewhere else, but now I'm here." He looked at the ceiling and rubbed his face with his hands, leaving them there, covering his eyes.

"Well, do you have any idea why he left? Or when he'll be back?" Klein asked. I clenched my jaw. Anything that bloke said enraged me.

I spun my head around to him, and spit, "You should know, you are his right-hand man, aren't you?" Klein didn't react to my sarcastic comment, and kept looking past me, at George, who sat silently.

Ringo took another drink of his beer, and then said, "If John isn't coming, why don't we just have the meeting?" He looked at the clock. "We don't have all day," he added.

"That's right, we don't," Klein said, standing up. "At least, I don't. I am terribly sorry, but duty calls. I have other matters to attend to, and since Mr. Lennon doesn't seem to be coming, I will take off." He pulled himself out of his chair and hobbled out. I shot him a glare behind his back, and felt relieved when he left.

Once he was out of the room, George muttered something into his hands.

"What?" I asked.

George lifted his face, and said, "Prudence is here."

We sat in silence for a minute. My eyes widened a little.

"... Farrow?" Ringo asked, confused.

"No, Prudence. The girl John went with, before Cynthia," I explained, somewhat incredulous from hearing her name again.

"Oh." Ringo sat up. "I wasn't there before Cynthia."

"The one that showed up while we were on tour," George elaborated.

"What's she doing here?" I asked.

"Which one that showed up on tour? There were a lot of birds on tour." Ringo was still clueless.

"She came one day, and they fought, and she left." I looked at Ringo, waiting for recognition to flash on his face.

It finally did, and he sat back slowly. "Oh. That Prudence." He took a swig of his beer.

"Why's she here?"

"I don't know," George said. "John and I saw her when we were on the roof. She was across the street, on a fire escape or a balcony or something. She's probably here on some job or something." He looked down at his hands, then back up. "John was pretty shaken up about it."

"I would imagine," I replied. "They haven't seen each other since the tour. And now she's here."

"So what's he going to do?" Ringo asked.

"I'm not sure," George answered. "But he better figure it out quickly. It could get much worse before it gets better."