Untitled Story 01 Prologue

“Can you pass me a bottle of wine?”

The day was long. It is pretty hectic and tiring for the four boys, yet, enjoyed the night after shooting their latest film. It has been a long time since they’ve participate their previous colored motion picture, ‘HELP!’. As usual, John indulged himself with wine, along with few bottles of scotch. George took out another cigarette while playing poker with Ringo. Paul sat down in one corner, enjoying looking at the stars while drinking his glass of red wine. The room was entirely quiet, filled with smoke from George’s cigarette. No one said a single word until Ringo slammed his fist on the table,

mumbling upon seeing his playmate’s cards.

“Damn it! I lost again!”

Paul smirked, noticed his annoyed expression.

“Next round, Rings?” George asked, took all the cards, and shuffled it.

“Of course!”

While the two of them played the next round, John moaned, took another bottle. Instead of pouring it into his glass, he drank it from the container. Afterwards, he placed the bottle on the counter with a slam, exhaled deeply. Paul approached him, took the wine bottle, and poured it on his empty wine glass.

“Say Paul–––“John called, moaned as he slowly dropped his head on the counter.

Knowing that he’s drunk, Paul immediately placed his glass on the counter, then, grabbed his arms. However, though he caught him, they went down to the floor. John was over him.

“Get off of me, John.” Paul complained, tried pushing him to the side, yet, didn’t budge.

“Paul–––”

“How many did you drink?!”

“F-few–––” He answered as his face turned red, seemed sleepy.

“How many bottles did John drink, George? Ringo?”

As the cigarette was almost consumed, George answered, looking his hand:

“Three or Four–––”

“Four, plus the wine.” Ringo added, placed his hand on the ground and showed it to him. “It’s a Royal Flush, mate.”

Trying to struggle, pushing John aside, Paul looked around, searching for something to pull him up. Moments later, John slowly crawled; trying to make a scene, yet, Paul pushed his face away, called the others for help. George and Ringo dropped their cards to the floor, rushed where he was; found him lying on the floor, pushing John’s face away.

“What the–––” George paused, stared, intrigued with the situation.

“What did you do?!” Ringo asked, quite disturbed.

“Ask question later. Help me now!”

They held John up, placed him on the couch. Paul stood up, explained what happened, then, went to the window side, and opened the window for the fresh air.

“Say, what time are we supposed to leave?”

“Just a couple of minutes, then, I’ll start my car, Ringo.”

For awhile, John somewhat regained consciousness, felt some pain in his head and neck. Paul turned around, saw him and reminded:

“That’s for drinking too much alcohol.”

“Can we just go home already?” John complained, reminded as the pain worsens. “We have Jamming Sessions tomorrow.”

“Fine then.” He replied, took the car keys from his pocket.

Outside of the building, as he walked towards to his car across the street, he felt that someone’s around. Though he has not seen anyone around the area, he paused, looked behind and saw John, Ringo and George standing on the doorstep, carrying their musical instruments.

“Hey, what are you standing there?” Ringo asked. “Is the car ready?”

“Oh yeah.” He remembered, went to the car.

As the rest crossed the street, he opened the car’s trunk. Everyone placed their instruments inside. Then, they went to the car.

“Ringo, I want to sit in front.” George requested as Ringo went to the front passenger seat.

“Sorry. Besides, I’ll be dropping off first–––”

“Quiet!” John interrupted, reminded as his head felt worst.

“Why not the three of you stay at the back?” Paul proposed, trying to end up the argument.

They became a bit awkward, looked at John, then to him. “Um… I don’t know, Paul… but–––”

“Fine, I’ll sit in front, okay?!” John snapped, ended the discussion, and went to the front passenger seat, sat down. “So, what are you guys waiting for?!”

It was decided then. As Paul went to the driver’s seat, started the car, George and Ringo went to the passenger seats behind the driver’s seat. John leaned on the seat, trying to ease the pain. Once the car started, they moved out, left the studio.

------------------------

Cold starry night. The road was dark, pitch black. Not even a gleam of light was seen in few meters. Driving along the road, Paul turned on the radio, listening to the music, switched to the news. John slept the trip, felt a bit relieved. George brushed his hair up looking the pitch black surroundings.

“It was like an abyss.”

Ringo, on the other hand, hummed some of their previous composed songs. Two hours past, they’re still on the road.

The radio lost its transmission. Everyone who was still awake noticed something odd going on.

“Is it me or are we going nowhere?”

“Paulie,” George called moved his head forward a bit, doubted as he saw the road. “Do you know where are we going?”

“I know George. I know where we are going–––”

“But?”

“The road.” He answered, a bit worried. “Something’s wrong.”

“Guys.” Ringo called, found something.

“What now, Rings?”

“We’re now in a city….” He continued, knew the place. “We’re here.”

“What are you referring to?”

“We’re in Liverpool!” he exclaimed.

“Odd.”

“What do you mean odd?”

“This isn’t Liverpool.” Paul mentioned.

“Oh yes, it is.”

“We are now in Liverpool.” George interrupted, correcting them. “But it is a bit… different.”

“Right.”

As the car stopped, parked in one empty space in one street, John woke up, seemed like someone messed him up, and asked whether he was in his house.

“Not really, John.” Paul answered as he, Ringo and George went out from the car. “Anyhow, let’s get going.”

He locked the car as he went out. He asked, seemed a bit disoriented.

“Liverpool.”

“Liverpool…?”

Looking around the area, he familiarized starting from a club to the park. He suddenly felt the uneasiness, then the exhaustion. Going to another street, everyone found few people going to the respective buildings. Mist instantly appeared, blurring their sight.

“Odd.” He muttered, hid his hands in the pockets of his pants, quite aware that someone’s touching his arm. “Wait–––”

Momentarily, George, Paul and Ringo felt the same thing. The mist thickens. They called each others’ names, yet, they could hear only faint voices. They sensed that someone pulled them from different direction, followed by hearing a strange lullaby. From that, the four slowly shut their eyes, fell asleep.