1958

john was one of your closest friends. you guys went to the cavern club together, had classes together, drank together, etc. he had asked you today if you wanted to come to his house to hangout and have a few drinks. you agreed, but said you couldn’t stay long as your mum was coming home the next day.

it started off well, you two drinking beer and watching silly movies. but each time you told him it was starting to get late, he’d just insist on you staying a little longer, or start up another conversation, or grab you another drink.

it had gotten to the point where you had become quite tipsy, and you tried to tell him you had to go home, but he did the same as before. you knew you wouldn’t be able to go home now— you’d forget where you’re going or trip clumsily. but you couldn’t stay at john’s; your mum was going to be back tomorrow.

“oh come on, lass. just one more drink.” john said as you protested, slinging an arm around your shoulder lazily. he was also quite tipsy, but less than you. he was clingy when it came to you— he wanted you to stay.