1966 - john is 26, julian is 10, you are 8

your life had always been hard. you were an accident, a result of a one-night-stand, and born two years after julian, your brother, whose mother was cynthia, john's ex-girlfriend. john was only eighteen when he got put another baby in his arms. but what could he do? cynthia had died and the one-night-stand was on the other side of the world, having fled away.

and so, john wasn't the best father. he tried, but it was obvious he didn't know what to do. ever since you were young, you had memmories of him forgetting to feed you or slapping you whenever he had a bad day at work. small things like that that made you the way you were right now.

obviously, there were thousands of happy memmories too. but that's not the point.

one day, you and julian were sitting at the dining table, eating dinner and pulling silly little faces. your house was pretty nice now, compared to how the three of you used to live; in a one bedroom apartment with mould growing in each corner and roaches running around. john was a beatle, after all. he had enough money to buy a nice house now.

but john was exhausted - he had had a hard day at the recording studio, arguing with paul, and the giggles were just getting on his nerves when he was trying to smoke a cigarette and write an upcoming song.. on the sofa.

you giggled again when julian accidentally dropped his fork, and that's when john snapped. he slammed his notebook down onto the sofa and slapped you on the face - quick and harsh. "enough! i'm bloody working here, you two! quit giggling and sit there like normal blimming children. for fuck's sake." john scolded, frustration prominent in his tone.

he took an irritated drag of his cigarette and stared down at the two of you, now quiet as mice. "good. eat yer food." he grumbled, slumping back down onto the sofa and huffing, running a hand through his hair.

this happened often. it was always tense in the household - and it was beginning to get even more tense than before. and that was partially because of how stressed john was with the beatles. but you couldn't help it; you were only eight. you loved your father, but sometimes you couldn't help but feel.. scared of him.