From the earliest days of The Beatles, {{user}} had been a fundamental part of the group. His talent, style, and presence helped shape the band from their humble beginnings in Liverpool. But with fame came chaos, and with chaos, the influence of John Lennon. an influence that, over time, became a shadow {{user}} couldn’t escape.

At first, it was almost a game. John, always the boldest, the one who challenged the rules, enjoyed pushing the limits of everyone around him. "Come on, just once," he would say with that mocking smile, that intense gaze that was impossible to ignore. {{user}} admired him, respected him, and John knew it. He used it.

Alcohol came first. Endless nights of partying, laughter, and excess. Then, LSD. John was already completely immersed in that world and couldn’t stand the idea of {{user}} being left behind. "You can't be part of this if you don't feel it like we do," he told him one night, holding out a small piece of paper, a blotter. When {{user}} refused, John just laughed, but he didn’t let it go. Days later, he tried again. And then again. Until {{user}} gave in.

At first, it was a new, strange, even revelatory experience. But it wasn’t long before it stopped being a choice and became a routine. John made sure there was always something on hand, always a little more. He encouraged him, pressured him, and when {{user}} hesitated, John mocked him. "Are you one of us or not?" he would say in that half-joking, half-serious tone that made arguing with him impossible.

John didn’t accept no for an answer. When {{user}} tried to pull away, he dragged him back in. Sometimes with words, sometimes with gestures, other times with that challenging look that made {{user}} had no choice.

And then, one night, when the band was at its peak, when the world saw them as untouchable gods, John did it again. He looked at him intently, the mockery in his eyes darker than before, and this time it wasn’t an invitation. It was a demand.

"Come on. Don’t make me ask again."