The duo fourteen-year-olds, the fifteen-year-old, and the sixteen-year-old hopped off the double-decker bus and headed toward Menlove Avenue to the house affectionately called Mendips. Paralleling Paul's previous action before we met George, John and I both briefed our two friends about Aunt Mimi. I think we scared them more than anything else, but it was all right. I knew Paul and George were good lads.

"You don't have to worry, you two! Just be yourselves, the nice lads you are, and there is no way Aunt Mimi's not gonna like you," I reassured them. They both nodded, both comprehending what they had to do in order to gain her approval.

"Here it is, either me castle or me prison, dependin' on what Auntie's mood is," John remarked as we walked up to the door of Mendips. "Either way, I can always escape, but I digress. 'You two ready?"

"Yeh, almost," George replied. Wanting to look a bit more presentable, he rapidly but neatly adjusted his hair and his clothes. Paul did the same. "Okay, I think we're ready as we'll ever be," Paul said after sighing.

John opened the door and he and I stepped inside first. Paul and George slowly and cautiously followed us into the house.

"Hi, Aunt Mimi!" I said happily. She stood up and placed the book she was reading on the chair as I ran to hug her. "How are you? Did you miss us?" I asked.

"I'm fine, Paulina. And yes, I did miss you and John both." Her eyes moved from looking at me to looking at John.

"Hello, Auntie," John said as he would have normally said it any other time. He cleared his throat and introduced Aunt Mimi to Paul and George. "Aunt Mimi, these are me two new mates." Using his head, John motioned for Paul to step forward. "This is Paul McCartney, the lad I met at the Fete."

"It's nice to meet you, ma'am," Paul shook Aunt Mimi's hand cordially and gallantly. He definitely turned on his charm, but remembering John's warning, he made sure not to overdo it.

"Nice to meet you, Paul, I'm Mrs. Smith," Aunt Mimi said laconically. Despite Paul's charm, she saw right through it. She didn't look pleased, and this worried John and me.

But John had to finish what he started, so Paul stepped aside and it was George's turn. "And Auntie," John began again. "This is George Harrison. He goes to school with Paul."

"Good evening, Mrs. Smith, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," George said softly while he shook Aunt Mimi's hand.

"It's a pleasure to make yours as well, George," she answered, looking even more displeased than before. "Please make yourselves at home," Aunt Mimi added with an unfeeling tone. "Paulina will show you around, and if you could excuse us, I need to speak with John. Thank you."

Now that was cold! My own aunt pulled something like this! I feared it, but I didn't think it would happen for real! She was never harsh or unfriendly towards anyone until she laid her critical eyes on Paul and George. I became angered, but couldn't do anything because anger never solved anything. I felt sorry for Paul and George; my two new mates, put down like that by my own auntie who taught me to love people for what they were on the inside, not the outside. That was the unyielding paradox. Poor Paul, poor George. They continued to look at each other helplessly, feeling lost, unwanted, and so out of place.

It was unfair. Auntie didn't even speak more than a few words to them, and already she made a judgement. John was going to give Aunt Mimi a piece of his ticked-off mind soon enough, so I left that up to him. I think he'd do a better job at--to put it mildly--'reasoning' with Aunt Mimi. I, being the softhearted one, was given the job of comforting, and was more than willing to pursue that task. Of course John was sensitive, softhearted, and caring as well, but he's just so much better at defying authority than I am.

"C'mon, I'll show you my really gear room then," I told Paul and George with a smile on my face, hiding my burning aggravation and disappointment. George and Paul were speechless, their faces were downcast, yet they managed to nod and gave their consent to going upstairs.

I shut the door once we were inside my room. A sticky and uncomfortable silence ensued. Someone had to break this new ice, and I knew I was the only one with the ice pick.

"Well, this is me room. Do you like it?" I asked, trying to strike up a conversation, trying to raise our spirits that were so unmercifully crushed by Aunt Mimi. More silence followed as the two sat on the bed, glancing around my room.

"It's lovely, Paulina. I like the feel or atmosphere of it," Paul began, taking the courageous step out of submission. "It kinda reminds me of me own room, don'tcha think, George?"

"Yeh, I thought so too, with everythin' in order n'all," he began, a tiny smile creeping on his face, but it quickly faded away.

They felt down again, and I couldn't blame them. "Look, lads, um, Auntie … She's just so …"

"Oh, I know, it's not a big deal. Thanks for all you've done though, bringin' us up 'ere far, far away from the depths of a literal dungeon of criticism and skepticism," Paul stated. He was reassuring me, when I was supposed to be reassuring him! The two of them took it all right though; they were strong; they could handle it.

"I loved that imagery about the 'dungeon of criticism,'" I complimented Paul, trying to alleviate the situation. I think I was making some progress, and that's a good thing!

George smiled. "Aw, there ya go again, manipulatin' words to make ya sound all dignified and refined," he teased.

"Sod off, George. It's not my fault I possess such a gift," Paul retorted in what he called the "Queen's English." George gave him a taunting look, then smiled. His eyes drifted away from the conversation a bit, and he noticed a piece of paper on the table.

"If ya don't mind me askin', Pearl, but what's that?" George inquired, pointing to the paper. It was my drawing of John, about seventy-five percent finished.

"Oh, it's only a drawing," I answered him shyly. "Not a Picasso or anythin' great like that."

"I'll be the judge of that. Can I see it, please? It might be better than you think," he replied.

"Can I see it too, please? I'd like to see it. You drew it, right?" Paul piped up.

"Yes, I drew it. It still needs a bit of work, but here ya go." I handed George my drawing of John. To my surprise, George's jaw dropped once he saw my artwork.

"How could you possibly imply that this wasn't any good?" George asked, almost indignantly. "It's really good, Pearl. I think it's great."

"Oh, thank you, but I think you're too kind. It's not even finished yet, but thank you very much," I told him gratefully.

"Lemme see," Paul requested. George showed my drawing to him. Same reaction came out of Paul as it did George.

"Ooh, he's right! Wow, I couldn't do this if I was given a lifetime to work on it, I can tell ya that. It looks just like him, exactly like him. Is it from memory?" Paul inquired.

"Uh huh," I managed to say as I nodded my head. Paul and George were duly impressed.

"How long did it take ya?" George asked.

"Well, I worked on it whenever I could. I haven't been able to finish it yet because I haven't had the time. But it probably takes about two to three hours or so to finish a drawing straight out. 'Just depends on what I'm drawing."

"Then, um, couldja draw a picture of me then? I mean, if you don't mind," questioned an interested Paul.

"Oh, no, I don't mind at t'all! I could do that for you, Paul. That is, if you really wanted me to draw you--"

"She doesn't want a picture of you, Paul! Where'd you get that idea? What a bloody waste of paper," George quipped. Paul shoved George with his elbow in response, and George feigned immense pain. Paul gave him a stern look. George gave him a satisfied, almost supercilious smile, and remarked with a sense of slyness in his voice and his eyes, "She'd rather draw me instead anyway, right?"

"I'd be glad to draw the both of you," I replied smiling. "Sheesh, and I have to draw the two lads whose eyes have so much feeling in them, I'm gonna have a hard time capturing it on paper!"

Paul and George giggled. "But I see you kept the quality of feeling and depth in John's eyes 'ere though," George noted, pointing to my brother's eyes in the drawing.

"Ah, that's because I've been drawin' John for a long time. I know how to show expression with his eyes after all the practice. Plus, he's my brother and I see him everyday," I explained. "It was difficult at first, but now I can just draw him without a problem. I'll have to practice with you two though."

"All right, that's good with me, Paulina. I just meant whenever you had time could you draw a picture of me," Paul explained while George nodded in agreement.

"Just let me know when, and I'll be more than happy to take the time to do so," I gladly told them.

Then there was a knock on my door.

"Bloody hell," John stormed in as I opened the door. "It's not fair, lads. Auntie thinks you two are a bad influence on me! I tried to convince her of the contrary, but she wouldn't listen. But I don't care. You two are me mates and stayin' that way, no matter what she says. She doesn't want you two in her 'Imperial Palace,' mainly. It's either you two leave, or we all leave. So we're getting' out of this blasted Fascist penitentiary."

"I could try to convince her, John," I suggested. "She'll listen to me."

"She's not in the mood right now, Pearl, and I don't want 'er screaming at you instead. *Sigh* …"

"Well, since it's still early evening," Paul said as he glanced at the clock on my wall. "We could all go to my 'ouse, and just sort of or rehearse, or jam, or whatever you'd like."

"Or we can go to my house if Paul's house is unavailable," George offered.

"I'll go anywhere, anywhere away from 'ere," John admitted. "So our sincerest thanks then to Paulie and George here! Since Paul offered first, we'll go to his house first then." John placed his hand on Paul's shoulder. "You don't mind, right? And your dad doesn't mind either, right?"

"Yeah, it's fine. He'll understand."

"Thanks, Paul! Thanks, George! You lads are the greatest! This will work out wonderfully," I thanked them for being so understanding.

"All right, let's go!" John led the way. I took his guitar in hand and followed the three lads out of the house. Since Paul's house was only about a mile from Mendips, we decided that we could walk there instead of wait at least half an hour for a bus to arrive. Paul noticed that I was carrying John's guitar.

"Here, Paulina, let me take that for ya. I can carry it," Paul kindly suggested in that charming and sincere manner of his. He held out his hand to take the guitar.

"Thank you, but, um," I hesitated because it was John's guitar, not mine. I was the only other person in the world that John trusted his guitar with, besides himself. "Um, John, can Paul touch your guitar, or do you not trust him laying a finger on it? I don't think he'd hurt your precious guitar though, John," I teased my brother and winked at Paul, who winked back.

"Yeah, he wouldn't dare hurt it! As long as you keep an eye on 'im, Pearl, he can touch it. I don't want me guitar ruined because of this tosser," John joked.

"Ya don't have anything to worry about, John. I'll take good care of it," After that promise, Paul's content countenance rapidly changed to one of anger and he was about to smash the guitar against the ground.

"What the fuck--!!" John cried out, sheer terror in his voice.

"John! Watch your language!" I said sternly. I knew the lads had a habit of cursing, and I really didn't mind if they used those words, but I knew that if anyone else heard them talk that way, it wouldn't be good for their reputation or character.

"Yeah, John, watch your language in front of an innocent lass like your sister," George admonished and checked for my reaction. I smiled and whispered a quick "thanks" to him. During this, Paul stopped to watch us, but after losing interest, he raised the guitar again and was about to bring it down forcefully when John noticed.

"I'm sorry, Pearl," John apologized, appearing as sincere as he could. "But--Paul!" John cut off his previous thought with another desperate cry. Time suddenly slowed as the guitar was about to hit the ground. But then, Paul suddenly hesitated. The furious look on his face faded away and he was expressionless for a few moments. He looked up from the guitar and met John's wide, horror-filled eyes. A smile then crept on Paul's face.

"Ha, ha, John, 'gotcha on that one," Paul audaciously teased him. "How'dja like those moments of pure fear? Thought that was the end of the world, eh?"

George and I merrily laughed at this. If the tables were turned and Paul was the one we played the practical joke on, John would be laughing his head off. But John was caught here and now, and he stood in shock, not from Paul's handling of his guitar, but from the joke. John looked as if he could kill Paul, who only looked at his band mate with a mischievous grin.

"Naff off, Paul. You'll get what's comin' to you, you bloody bugger. Gimme back me guitar!" John snatched the guitar away avariciously, rapaciously, and was about to hit Paul with it.

"Ahhh! John, it was only a joke, I swear! They were in it too! They were!" Paul pleaded, cowering and pointing a finger at George and me. We shrugged it off, pretending we didn't know a thing, which was rather funny after I saw the look of desperation on Paul's face. He quickly brought up his hands to protect himself from the oncoming blow, and shut his eyes tight.

John vacillated before guitar contact. This time, he had the mischievous grin on his face.

"Ha, ha, Paul, 'thought that was the end of the world, eh?"

"Aw, shit, I knew that would 'appen," Paul muttered to himself as he stood up.

"Watch your language!" George and I chorused. The two of us broke into laughter, and soon afterwards, John and Paul did too. They were good sports, they were. And as we continued on to Paul's house, I carried the guitar. John and Paul kept looking at each other defensively, taking extra precautions to make sure they wouldn't fall for anything else.

So that's how it all started, I'd say. The fun mini-rehearsal and all the ones that followed bonded us even tighter. Paul and George became our best friends, and John and I became their best friends. I would always tag along while John, Paul, and George rehearsed. And yes, of course, occasionally when Aunt Mimi would be out, Paul and George would sneak over and stay at Mendips for a while. We've got to have our own bit of mischief too, you know! It was perfect and worked like this all the way until summer ended, and into autumn.

But Autumn meant only one thing. Not the colder weather, not the golden leaves, but …

School.

I knew it was tough, but it had to be done. I really didn't mind it though, but that was the student in me being studious and conscientious, just to name some adjectives teachers at the PLGI dubbed me with. PLGI is the Pristine Liverpool Girls' Institute, the school I attend. In England, my school is called a public school, which is the same as a private school in America.

Right now, I am at the grade level equivalent to a high school sophomore in America. All my friends tease me because out of the twenty girls, I'm the youngest of my class since I'm only fourteen years old, and, just to be honest with you, I'm at the top of the class. Aunt Mimi wants me to go to the best college in Liverpool to study science or English or something like that. I want to go to college, but I want to study art instead, since that is my forte. However, I need not worry just yet; I have a little more time to think about where I want to go for college and what I want to do when I get there.

But with John, it was a totally different story. He could've cared less. Luckily the Liverpool College of Art took him in (and I do mean he was very lucky.) Art was always his best subject in school, although I did wish that he at least passed his O Level in that. Oh, well, I knew he'd do all right though.

The time eventually came. My dear, beloved brother moved away to college. He left only two months ago, but I began to miss him even before he left. Even though I knew I could just go see him anytime I wanted to, the only thing was, he wasn't at home. I couldn't see him everyday, just as I have for all my life. Not one day of my life passed by without John being in it. A void formed when he left, and even Paul and George felt that empty void being carved out of their lives. And John told us that he was missing something out of his life by leaving the three of us.

My brother's away, but I still have him strong in my heart and mind, and on my walls. I already finished my latest drawing of John. It's really gear. I love it, and it's one of the best ones I've drawn so far. It's on my wall right now in a little place I reserved for it, near all the other drawings of John I created. What I really like about my latest masterpiece is it captures the perfect twinkle in John's eye, the pensive, contemplating look of his that I was aiming to achieve and successfully did so: Every time I look at it, I smile; it just seems so lifelike. Since his drawing was completed, I had no 'side' art project to work on, so I remembered a promise I made to one of my best friends.

"But I already finished my literature and science homework, Auntie. You can check it if you'd like," I told Aunt Mimi while I sat at the kitchen table putting all my books away except for my Honours Geometry book.

"I trust you, Paulina, but do you have any other homework to finish? You know that I don't approve of you procrastinating."

"You know that I don't procrastinate when possible, you know that I've never missed an assignment before. Besides, it's Friday, and I have all weekend to work on my math homework--"

"You still have math homework to finish?"

"Auntie! Friday is the end of the week of working hard at school. Don't you think I should get a break? Please? Plus, I need a bit of help on my math homework too."

"Oh, so who are you going to ask for help?"

"Don't worry, I'll get the help. That's not a problem." I didn't want to tell Auntie that I would get homework help from Paul. Although George is in the same grade as me, he's in Algebra II because he took Geometry last year. I, on the other hand, took Honours Algebra II last year. George isn't all that focused on his education, which is why he didn't take any Honours classes, nor do I think he remembered anything he learned anyhow.

However, Paul, being a year older, is in a grade higher than I am. He's dedicated to his schoolwork, and is in Pre Calculus, having already taken Honours Algebra II and Honours Geometry. He promised me that if I had any homework problems, just stop by his house anytime and ask him. I'm going to take him up on that offer, and also, I promised that I would draw a picture of him, so going to see him tomorrow is a perfect opportunity to accomplish both tasks.

I wished Aunt Mimi good night and went upstairs to go to bed. I changed into my pajamas and got my art supplies ready for tomorrow. While sitting on my bed with my back towards my door, I began to sharpen my pencils.

All of a sudden, I heard my door open and then my lights turned out. I was startled, but before I could do anything, the lights flickered back to life.

I couldn't believe it! He was there! I didn't even expect it!

"John! What are you doin' here!" I leaped off the bed and gave him a hug.

"I sneaked out of me dorm to come see you! I missed ya, and I wanted to see if I could take a chance by coming back home, and it worked! I'll show up once in a while at this hour then."

"Yeah! I want you to show up more often!"

"Gear, thanks, luv. You know that I'll come every holiday and as many weekends as I can. Can you keep this here for me for safe-keeping, please?" John handed over some of his artwork to me. "And I heard that you needed homework help?"

"I'll keep your work here, don't worry. Yeh, I need help on math. I don't s'ppose you could help me with it?"

"Ooh, I'd love to, that is, if I ever did pay attention in class! There were those two minutes I paid attention. I think that was when I was starin' at the clock the last two minutes before school let out for that summer--"

"John," I said, giving him a playful look.

"Aw, just kidding, luv," John said smiling. "You're going to get math help from who?"

"Don't tell Auntie, okay? I'm gettin' it from Paul."

"Okay, okay, just hang on a sec. From Paul? Yeah, he could help ya, but if he does anything to you--"

"John, he won't. He's been our close friend for a long time. He's not going to do anything."

"I know that, Pearl, but I'm just concerned. I'm concerned about me lit'le sister, y'know, especially with lads like Paul, running about with his pretty face and his charm. He's a nice lad, but if anything does happen--"

"John, it won't, I promise. But thanks for everything anyway," I interrupted him before he could continue, smiled, and gave him a loving hug, which he returned. "Nothing is going to happen to me, John, but if something does, I'll let you know." I looked up at him and gave him another smile.