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January 1st, 1960
It was the dawn of great beginnings, despite the lack of light. The moon remained mostly hidden from the sky, in the early hours of New Year’s Day!
Yes, a new year!
Hell, it was a brand new decade! The world was changing. The feeling was stirring in the air, even if everyone else hadn’t figured it out yet!
The group played their gig, partied and now were traveling to the next big hop. John Lennon, Paul McCartney and George Harrison followed a trail through a wooded park in the city.
Their mate’s house would be an extra mile going down the street, but it was half the journey through the area where nature ruled.
As the three teenagers made their way through the woods, trees towered over them, like giant shadows. The canopy of interlocking branches soared high above their heads.
Yet despite the density of nature, the little spaces above revealed slices of the night’s sky, and the tiny sliver of the moon.
This was rather convenient, as the trees did a decent job shielding them from the wind. Still, the cold air made the pale boys from Liverpool, England, go from a blush to a bright rosy red. This was especially evident on Paul, with the redness masking the better part of his face.
It was secretly funny. The kid looked like he had been rubbing both sides of his face against the carpet, John Lennon silently thought, but kept to himself.
Together, the three hustled through the bitter cold, having foolishly only dressed themselves in their leather pants and jackets, to protect them from the elements. They had to look good after all!
“I should have brought me bloody hat!” George grumbled, thinking about how his mother always nagged him about such things.
“We aren’t far,” John assured, taking the lead on the dirt path. The sand was dusting his boots, and the leader of the little pack had just shone them. Oh well, it seemed like a lost cause keeping them clean on this trail, but he didn’t care.
At this point, they were all more interested in finding a girl to play with, and the inevitable crashing somewhere uncomfortable. Like the floor, or the stairwell.
“You know the 60s is going to be our decade!” Lennon exclaimed, with his back to his friends, and his head lifted up towards the sky.
“You really believe that, Johnny!” Paul asked, clearly cold himself but not complaining.
“I don’t believe it,” the lad in front corrected firmly. His voice changed from playful banter, to a tone that was as serious as a threat. “I know it! I know it with all me heart!” Lennon’s head was facing forward, but arched slightly towards the sky. As if making a command to God himself!
“We were meant for greatness, and soon we will be as big as Elvis!” John swore to the sky, as a tiny sliver of moonlight reflected off his glasses.
“I don’t know about being as big as Elvis.” George criticized.
“Why not?” John wanted to know, as he turned his head sharply to face his friend.
“Well Elvis is a bit much.” Paul backed up, huffing warm breath in his hands.
However, John spun around and stopped suddenly.
“I want you all to get this straight,” the leader began. “No one ever made it big by thinking small.” He told his friends. Then John pulled out a smoke and the others followed.
“Don’t ever doubt for a second that we’ll be as big as Elvis.” Lennon told them bluntly, while pointing with his cigarette, like it were an extension of his finger.
“We’re going to make it big! Never doubt that.” The eldest amongst them insisted.
Then everything was quiet, except for the forest in the night. An owl hooted in the distance, and that drove the lads to continue their journey.
“You know Johnny,” George suddenly spoke, breaking the silence. “When we become rich, I’m going to have the coolest cars.” The youngest amongst them exclaimed.
John smiled at the dream.
“I don’t know mate,” he played along. “I might have to buy one better.”
“You’re going to have to race me to it!” Harrison laughed, as he insisted his car would be better.
“Lads,” Paul spoke from behind, gaining the attention of the others. “You forgot about me, and I’ll be at the dealer's before you both wake up!”
“Nawww…” John pushed back. “I’ll be there before you’re through with your bath.” This caused the three to laugh, until they were startled by the hooting of that unseen owl. It was even louder than before, which alerted the lads as they searched for the bird.
The sudden sound silenced the trio, and stopped them in their tracks, but only for a moment.
Glancing at his scuffed boots, Lennon looked up and began walking, with the other two in tow.
“I know one thing I’m going to do once we become rich and famous,” the leader spoke again, allowing his thoughts to shift like George.
“Is buy me clothes the same place Elvis shops!” John declared, excited by the thought.
“You think we’ll meet Elvis?” The younger of the lads inquired, looking as hopeful as a stray puppy.
“Of course we will!” Lennon exclaimed, raising his voice to cause a slight echo within the dense trees.
“Hell, he’ll be dying to meet us!” the one in glasses assured, upping his pace with a skip.
“Who else famous do you think we’ll meet?” McCartney wanted to know, feeling a little left out.
“Besides Elvis?” John thought aloud. “Well I’d bet everyone would want to know us!” Lennon confidently concluded. “Chuck Berry, Little Richard…” he was saying.
“Carl Perkins.” George added, enjoying the conversation. “I want to meet him, and Elvis, and Ray Charles…” the lad babbled excitedly.
“Oh I want to meet some starlets.” Paul brought up with a cheeky smile. He already had a lady in mind.
“I would love to meet Jane Asher.” George went along. His young mind envisioned the even younger actress, as if she were standing before him!
Her beautiful smile, her exquisite body, and long blonde hair, excited the inexperienced youth. Having only seen the starlet in black and white images, Harrison was unaware that the actress he lusted for was really a redhead.
“I would definitely ask her out.” The lad relayed full of hope, yet embarrassed he was still a virgin.
“I don’t know about that mate,” Lennon teased. “I might get to her first!”
“Well I for one could see meself with a beautiful blonde.” The bassist continued his thought. “I don’t know,” he playfully paused. “Perhaps Bridget Bardot.” McCartney met Lennon’s gaze, aware of his mate’s crush on her. Paul knew the thought of the French actress fancying him over John would drive his friend mad.
“Hey if we get a bloody chance with her, I’m calling dibs.” John asserted as much as his friend expected. “You can have bloody Queen Elizabeth if that offer ever somehow happens, but I want Bridget.” The leader seriously instructed.
However, Paul just laughed.
“You’re daff, if you think that’s ever going to happen.” Paul snarked, while his round face that now resembled a cherry teased.
This sarcastic response caused Harrison to laugh as well.
Then McCartney noticed the wood trail was almost through, with the paved street just in sight. Seizing the opportunity, he raced on ahead, with George instinctively in tow.
Despite the sudden rebellion, John found himself laughing, as he ran to keep up. Together, the trio made it to their party, with their dreams just in front of them.