#mccvrtney

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“Fancy another glass?” asked Epstein. At least she thought it’s Brian Epstein, the room was quite dark and she was on the brink of getting drunk.

Her brain taunted her with a small flashback to the last time she hugged Paul. The way he had looked at her, as if she was the most precious thing in the world, inflicted physical pain to her heart. And as he hold her, hugging her fully, she had never felt the urge of embracing someone and pushing them away at the same time. The first because she knew it was the last time. The later because she knew that she was only getting more attached to him.

Turning her head, she faked a wide smile at Epstein-may-be despite the liquor making her feel dizzy. “Y’know it” she beamed as she hold out her glass and watched him pour more whisky to her glass.

The days after the breakup were the worst as one would expect them to be. Feeling almost null, she had walked in her house and in the streets like living dead, like ghost among the living. She continued with her life, but she was not the same, she lived without a soul. The lively and fierce singer was replaced with a shadow, a ghost of whom she used to be. It was in the moments of solitude that she would actually crumble down, either sobbing against her pillow or feel the solitude consume her. Many times she picked up the receiver, to call Paul, his words that they were friends tempting her. But she never called him, not only the idea that they were friends was ridiculous but she also knew she had to stay true to her decision. 

Faking another tipsy smile she closed her eyes and sipped her whisky. Meanwhile though she thought of how she had worked on healing herself. She slowly started writing new songs, great artists after all are born after great pain. The more she wrote the more she returned to her normal self, or so she made herself thought she was. She started frequenting bars again, she started going out again. She even agreed to a few blind dates, that’s how she met Jason, a sweet guy whom she was kind of seeing. They would meet every now and then and they had slept but there was nothing concrete. Though it was more of concrete than her relationship with Paul, the feeling that she was missing something was ever present. Something that she refused to acknowledge. Every time she felt loneliness crawl alongside self-pity (  because what did it say about her that her only company had been the man whom she had been seeing secretly  ), she would write more, sing more. Focused on her career more than ever, she finally reached the point in which she was being booked by the most famous clubs in London. Her lyrics made her popular among music elites. But you can escape so far.

In a full circle, the friends in the industry invited her to a very exclusive party. Not knowing the details, she agreed. By the time car pulled up by her door it’s too late because he was there and no one knew that they once had been they. The pain and shock hit at at the same time. But all she could do was beam and hug everyone and greet them all and joke as if she had not a single worry in the world. Only when she was introduced to Paul, she couldn’t help it, she said ‘Oh but we’re good friends. Friends that don’t talk, only he could come up with such a friendship’ before joining the roar of laughter yet avoiding to look at Paul. Because she was a rising star, no one asked how she knew him and she was thankful for it because she already had much to pretend about. Trying to act normal only got worse once they got to Paul’s house.

Setting down the glass she smirked widely, despite the fact that she was not half as drunk as she wanted to be to survive the night. Epstein-may-be was talking but she wasn’t listening. She couldn’t focus anymore, alcohol and her pain and her act weren’t mixing well. Above all, seeing Paul was hitting reality, she missed him. “What’s with the music here?” she interrupted him. “Feels like a funeral” she spoke loudly, almost as if to hush her thoughts and feelings, she wanted to shut them up. “I want to dance” she announced as she got up and sloppily she fixed her dress. Looking around, she fixed her gaze on Paul who was sitting not too far away from where she’s standing. Every fiber of her being was screaming for her not to do it but as alcohol mixed with her blood, she felt as if she had to do it. “Don’t you’ve something for me Paulie?” @mccvrtney

❤ || ULTIMATE SHIP MEME - Send my character a ❤ and I’ll fill in the form of what my character would do with yours.  

BOLD YOUR CHOICES

Affectionate; Holding hands | Cheek kisses | Hugs from behind | Cuddling | Hand kiss | PDA (not because they are a thing secretly) | Spooning | Shared baths | Whispers | Affectionate texts | Caressing | Stroke hair | No displays of affection

Sex; Shower sex | Wall sex | Neck bites | Oral | Morning sex (her fav with Paul ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)) | Drunk sex | Public sex | Backseat of car (she frankly thinks he is too sweet for that or the other sex types not bolded) | BDSM | No sex

Dates;Picnic | Cinema | Restaurant | Sports game | Hike | Coffee | Museum | Club | Bar | Beach | No dates

Would my character…