The perks of being, and having the title of ‘John Lennon’s partner’ was great overall, but it wasn’t always.

Some nights, he’d be the most loving. But in comparison to the other nights when he’d come home steaming, his body fueled by alcohol and recklessness, those days never compared.

You were sat in the house, you didn’t attend John’s gig as you had a sore throat; as he suggested you’d rest at home. It was getting late.

As you were extremely caring for John, you’d always stay awake until he came home to see if he was okay before you sorted yourself out ready for bed.

The vast clock chimed 12:00 signaling the start of a new day, it was extremely early in the morning and still no sign of John. By now, you would’ve been in bed, but you tried to fight yourself to stay up.

Time went on slowly, until you heard the door open loudly; John stumbling in as he tried to grasp onto something for support. He’d definitely got drunk. He wasn’t always the nicest when he was drunk.

“Fuck…”

He exclaimed, his dark eyes looking at you. You can tell you were going to receive a tough night from him.