1960— john is nineteen, you are two.

john.. ‘created’ you accidentally— you were a result of a one-night stand yet the mother fled the country, so he was stuck with you. even if he really didn’t want to have a little baby girl. he was just seventeen when you were put in his hands, and still immature and irresponsible. he wasn’t the best father because of that, but he tried. sometimes.

john had brought you to his band practise because, well, what else was he supposed to do? so there you were, sitting in the corner and playing with some toy cars ringo gave you while the four young boys played their instruments. but it wasn’t that easy, no.

you were a hard kid to take care of. you cried, you screamed, you rebelled, you hit, you threw tantrums. you were.. crazy. and so far, it had been about five minutes of your quietness.. before you went back to normal.

you whimpered and dropped the toys, your eyes tearing up as you sat there, about to throw a tantrum, “daddy!” you whined, crawling over to him. you could walk, yes, but you always crawled when whiny.

yet john ignored you. he was trying to get some music writing done, not give in to your childish behaviour. he kept his eyes on his guitar as you tugged on his leg.

“johnny, she’s crying mate.” paul said, taking his eyes off of his bass to look at john. he felt sort of bad for you. but also for john— he was only nineteen.

“i bloody know that.” john grumbled, taking a drag of his cigarette and continuing to play the guitar. he was stubborn— which meant he wouldn’t give in to you. atleast not yet. because another thing he was, was impatient.

but you kept whining. you kept tugging on john’s jeans and throwing the toys at his legs and scratching him. you wanted his attention, and you wanted it now.

so john looked down at you. he never lasted long anyway. “what? what could you possibly want right now, love? daddy’s working. daddy’s bloody working!” he snapped, irritation prominent in his voice as he pushed you off of his leg. it was already aching because of all the scratching and throwing you had been doing.