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Early July 1967
John was attending another party of Brian’s, the older man having apologized profusely at what he’d done at the last time. Eppy had promised to stay by John’s side all night and he hadn’t invited any of those people who’d been at the private drug party. And he’d done a pretty good job of following his promise, but John had lost him.
He went into the hallway (after taking another drink from a waiter) and thought to himself, had Brian gone off to get high again? No, the man had truly sounded regretful over the phone. So where was he? He looked for him in the kitchen and found two different couples going at it, then he went to the dining room, even more sex, he went back into the main room of the party and decided to look for Brian in the edges of the room.
John walked next to the walls, nodding at people that smiled at him. Then he saw a familiar polka dot scarf and chased after his boyfriend, “Eppy!” He shouted over the loud music, “Brian!” He went into the throng of dancing people.
And came out the other side to a horrible sight, there was a young boy basically on top of Brian, kissing the life out of him.
John fell to a stop and nearly dropped his glass. “Wha...What the fuck are you doing!?”
Immediately, the young man jumped off Brian and the manager stepped back, red in the face. “John-”
“Shut it!” The singer yelled at him, “I can’t believe I was stupid enough to trust you again.” He threw his drink at Brian, staining the polka dot scarf. He was in the right mind to punch his face too, but there were enough people staring. He just shook his head and walked away from the scene.
Because he’d been planning on spending the night with Brian, John had had his driver drop him off and leave. Luckily, he spotted Ringo near the entrance chatting with some lads. Interrupting his conversation, John stepped in front of his friend and said, “Could you take me home?” His tone was tense.
Hearing this, the drummer frowned, “Something wrong, John?”
“Yeah, and my driver’s not here so could ye?” John insisted.
Ringo put his drink down on a small table beside him, “Sure, mate.” He waved to the others, “Later, boys!” And followed John outside the house.
He was about to close his car door when he saw a flustered Epstein come out of the house shouting, “John! John, wait!”
Said man only slammed his door closed and said to Ringo, “Drive.”
The drummer did as told.
It was a quiet ride to Ringo’s house, the older man thinking that it would be best John not be alone at the moment. At one point he dared ask, “So what happened?”
John’s voice was strained as he answered, “I was wrong.”
Obviously, this had to do with Brian but Ringo didn’t know how to approach the subject, after all, nobody knew that he knew about the affair. Still, he asked, “Did Brian do something?”
John turned to him with a frown, “Why would you ask that?”
“No reason.” Ringo shrugged, “Just...who else?”
John turned back to the window, “Yeah.” He said, who else indeed.
There was a persistent knock on Ringo’s door the next day. It was nearing noon and John wasn’t awake yet. He’d fallen asleep on Ringo’s couch after refusing to answer any more of Ringo’s questions.
Tiredly, the drummer put down his cup of tea and walked towards the door. He opened it to reveal Brian, his manager. Ringo stared, “Brian?”
The older man looked immaculate as always, but there was a worried tint in his eyes, “Good morning, Rich. Is John here?”
Ringo found himself feeling protective of his younger bandmate, “What’s it to you?”
Brian seemed shocked, “What?”
“Well, clearly you’ve gone and upset him.” Said Ringo, “Why should I let you see him?”
Epstein sighed, “It was all a misunderstanding.”
“Not the first, is it?” He’d heard from Paul about John’s concussion. The younger man hadn’t said much about it other than John would be unable to record for a few days. But when Ringo had mentioned telling Brian, Paul had answered in an angry tone, ‘Oh, believe me. He already knows.’
“Has he said anything?” Brian asked, eyebrows drawn together.
“Didn’t have to.” Ringo frowned at him, “You can’t keep hurting him like this, Brian.”
“I swear it was not my intention. Please, Ringo, let me see him.” His tone was pleading and his eyes wide.
The kind hearted man decided to finally take pity on him, “Oh, alright. But you’ve gotta promise yo make it better.” He said, moving aside to let the other man enter.
“Yes, of course.” Brian looked down at his shoes with a blush, “I, eh, intend to.”
John was awoken by a gentle hand and a sweet voice calling his name.
“John.” The voice said, “Please wake up, doll.”
The singer opened his eyes and squinted at the figure in front of him. His glasses were passed to him and he put them on gracelessly. “Brian?” His tone hardened, “What are you doing here?”
His lover sighed, “I’m here to apologize.”
“Don’t bother.” John hissed, “I don’t want your empty words.”
“Please, won’t you let me explain?” The older man insisted.
John sat up on the sofa while Brian remained kneeling. He looked down at his manager, “What for? So you can get me in bed again and then replace me?”
“No, John.” Brian shook his head, “You’ve got this all wrong. That man was no one, he just jumped at me.”
“You didn’t seem to be pushing him away.” John glared.
Brian let out a sigh, “I know you won’t believe me, but I was in shock. You arrived seconds after he started, I promise.”
John didn’t say anything, only looked away with disdain.
Brian put his hand in his pocket, “The truth is, John, you’re the only man for me.” He took out a box, “And I want to set that in stone.” He offered the small container.
John took it from his hands, “What’s this, then? Another pin?” He asked mockingly, but his expression went from disgusted to astonished as he opened it. Inside the black box was a wide ring, it was silver and widened into a square in the middle, where it held a square-cut diamond. It shined as the light hit it and reflected off John’s lenses. He found himself speechless.
Brian swallowed, “I have a friend who’s ordained. I’ve talked to him and he’s willing to officiate a ceremony.” He forced out a laugh, “I know this is insane, and I don’t expect you to say yes, but I...you mean everything to me, John.” He looked up at the man he loved, “And you deserve to know that.”
John just stared at him, his eyes wide and shiny. Unconsciously, he shook his head at him.
The older man’s heart broke even if he’d seen it coming, and after a moment he stood up, “I think I’ll take my leave now.” He smiled sadly, “You can keep the ring, it will look well on you.”
John saw him leave and by the time he’d regained control over his movements, the other man was long gone. He looked down at the ring and frowned as he saw something wet covering the stone, soon another drop joined in. John raised a hand and touched his cheek, he felt tears.
Ringo walked into the room to see John crying and staring at something in his hand. Immediately he walked towards his younger friend, “John? What’s the matter, lad?”
John just shook his head.
Ringo reached his side but stopped when he spotted the ring. Bloody hell, what had gone here? He sat down next to John and tried to ignore the shine the diamond gave off, “John? What happened?”
John looked up at him, “I messed up, Richie.” His voice broke, “I fucked it up.” And he fell forwards.
Ringo caught him and rubbed his back as his friend sobbed quietly. What to say?
Mimi Smith was cleaning her figurines when she heard her doorbell ring. She sighed, her maid wasn’t there today so she would have to walk to the door. She put down the feather duster and walked down the stairs. There was another ring, “Yes, yes. I’m coming.” Who could it be? She received minimal visits.
To her immense surprise, she opened the door to see her nephew on the other side. She was glad to see him wear normal clothes, not the colourful nonsense she’d been seeing him wear on TV. (Not that she’d ever admit to seeing him on the telly.)
“Hey, Mimi.” John gave a small smile. He raised a bouquet of lilies, “Can I come in?”
“Oh, John.” She waved him in, “Of course, yes.”
She took the flowers with a thank you and led him to the kitchen, “About time you showed up, I haven’t seen you in months.”
“I know, Mimi.”
“I don’t see why it’s so difficult to visit, you live only a few hours away.”
“I know, Mimi.”
“I’ve barely got any visitors since you bought me this house. I had to leave all my girlfriends.”
“I know Mimi.”
“And the maid does a horrible job, I spend half my time cleaning-”
“Mimi.” John interrupted, “I know .” He huffed, “You complain about it in all your letters.”
Mimi sighed as she arranged the flowers in a pot. “Yes, well…” She cleared her throat and turned to face him, “What brought this visit on?”
John looked away from her and started to swing the seat of his swivel chair, a nervous habit of his.
His aunt brows drew together, “John, what’s the matter?”
He cleared his throat and frowned at the ground, “...do you love me?”
Mimi scoffed, “What sort of question is that?”
“ Do you ?” He insisted with raised eyebrows, still not looking at her.
She sighed and grabbed a seat near him, “Yes, John. You must know I do.”
He cleared his throat, “What if I told you I did drugs?”
She shook her head, looks like she had to play John’s games today. “I would tell you that you are foolish, but I would love you still.”
John kept going, “What if I told you I’ve cheated on Cynthia?”
Mimi played with her rings and raised an eyebrow, “You know how I feel about her.” It was no secret the two had never gotten along.
John took a long time before speaking again. He took a deep breath and let it out, “What if...I told you I was queer?”
She froze, “Are you?”
“Mimi, please.” He looked up at her for a moment.
His aunt crossed her legs and sighed, “Then I would tell you that when you were a boy and came back crying after a friend had hit you after you ‘kissed him’ I didn’t care. That when you stared at boys during church, I didn’t care. And when you obsessed over that Elvis, with his hips and his hair, I didn’t care.” She put a hand on his shoulder, “I didn’t care when you moved in with that Stuart, or when you ran off to Paris. I didn’t care then, and I don’t care now.”
John’s breath shuddered and he sniffed. He moved his hand from where he’d been hiding it under his thigh (Something he’d picked up from Paul). He slowly raised and heard Mimi’s breath stutter as he showed the ring. “What if I told you I’m leaving Cyn, and I’m getting married to a man?”
Mimi stared at him for a long moment, then she looked down at the ring. “Who is he?” She said in a calm tone.
“Brian.” John’s voice was nervous, what was his aunt thinking?
“Mr. Epstein?” She let surprise cover her tone then.
John nodded, “Eppy.” He said with a smile to the ground.
She stared at him and slowly started to nod. “I would wish you luck, then.” She reached to take his ringed hand, “And tell you to please be careful, because it is an ugly world out there.”
John’s eyes were weary as he squeezed her hand, “I know...I know.” After a few moments of getting himself back in control, he quirked an eyebrow and offered a goofy smile, “Would you walk me down the aisle?”
Her tone was kind as she said, “Of course. I am not missing another wedding.” God knows how long she’d regretted not being there for him then.
John reached out for her and she received him in her arms. She held him as she’d never held him before, because she’d always been too afraid to get too attached. (A trait, she knew, she’d passed on to John.)
Brian was enjoying a strong glass of whiskey in his kitchen table, wallowing in pain. He’d ruined it with John now, forever. It had been days since he’d heard from the singer and as much as he longed to hear a word, Brian feared it as well. What would John say? Would he laugh at him? Cry? Be angry? The possibilities were endless with John.
He was distracted by a soft knock on his door, had he not been so quiet he would not have heard it. No music for him tonight, it would only bring now sad memories.
He was not going to stand up but the knocks were firmer now. Brian shook his head, “Go away!” He yelled.
There was silence. Then-
“Brian, it’s me! Open up!”
Brian froze. He could recognize that voice anywhere. John. He was on his feet before he even knew he was moving.
“Eppy, come on! I want to talk!”
He called him ‘Eppy’, what did this mean? Slowly, Brian headed for the door. He waited a few more seconds before opening it. His heart skipped a bit as he saw the younger man standing there, shivering slightly in the cold night.
John grinned hesitantly, “Hey, Eppy.”
Brian moved aside and let him in. “John, what a surprise. I suppose you’re here to give the ring back, I… You don’t have to explain, I understand.”
“Eppy.”
“It’s an insane idea, I don’t know why I even asked after all I’m not one for impulsiveness.”
“Eppy.”
“Guess I was feeling foolish, but no matter. It was wrong to ask that of you, you’re married already and-”
“ Eppy .”
Brian was stopped by a hand grabbing his arm. He looked down and gasped. John was wearing the ring. His ring!
The younger man smiled as he saw Brian’s eyes widen with realization. He put a gentle hand on his lover’s face and turned it towards him. John smiled, “I do.”
Brian was silent for a moment until he too returned the smile, “Oh, John.” He leaned forwards.
And they met each other in the middle. John put his arms around Brian’s neck and brushed his hair with his ringed hand as they kissed. Brian massaged his back as he brushed his tongue against John’s lower lip. They opened willingly, and Brian’s hold was firm on John’s hips as he drew the man closer.
John moaned into Brian’s lips and chased them as they broke their kiss.
Brian smiled at him, “I love you.”
John giggled, there was no denying it. “I can’t wait to marry you.” He said.
Soon they were kissing again, happy in the idea that nothing could go wrong in their lives as long as they remained together.
1974
“That’s a nice ring you got there, John.” Harry Nilsson said after taking a swing of scotch straight from the bottle.
John looked down at his old ring. He’d hidden it for years after Brian’s death, unable to even glance at it without breaking down.
He remembered when he had taken it off, it had been when he’d returned to London from Wales after hearing the news. He’d gone to Brian’s house and Derek Taylor had led him into the bedroom and kindly told him to take his time. John could take whatever he wanted, Derek said. John had simply nodded and sat on the bed for a long time. Their bed. A bed of some stranger pretty soon. When he’d finally gained the courage to stand up he’d headed into the closet to look at Brian’s clothes. He’d found plenty of his as well. He’d been about to laugh as he found the box containing all the different outfits and lingeries Brian had bought him over the years but a scrunched up ball of cloth had distracted him. John had reached for it and saw it was Brian’s polka dot scarf. He’d let out a tiny sob but he hadn’t let the tears fall yet. (He’d cried into Paul’s arms for what had probably been hours when he’d found out, but apart from that John had not actually broken down.)
He had wrapped the scarf around his own neck and buried his neck in Eppy’s smell. Then he’d gone for the bedside table. In the first drawer he’d found what he expected: lube, handcuffs, toys, the like. In the second, things were more emotional: A little clay monster Julian had done for Brian, a packet of drawings signed by John, and a leather journal. John had frowned, this wasn’t Brian’s business journal, this one was different. He’d flipped through it and that’s when his eyes had started to water, even as some entries made his laugh. Written in it were things like:
‘Night with John’
‘Party(Make sure to invite John!!)’
‘Call mum’
‘Buy candles for dinner (Johnny likes chocolate smell)’
‘Chocolate Oliver delivery for John 10:30’
‘Call Clive’
‘Make sure to restock on lube (!!)’
‘Hide Doll’s present (Not under car, he’ll find it)’
‘Pick up cat for John 12:45’
‘Call mum!!’
‘Doll wants softer blindfold, enquire at shop’
‘Dinner with John’
‘Dine with John’
‘Buy flowers for Doll’
‘John’s coming back!!!!! (Pick up from airport)’
‘Buy toy for Julian’
‘Buy flowers Doll is not allergic to’
‘Dinner with mum’
‘Breakfast with mum’
‘Get away from mum’
‘Get back to John!!!’
‘Party ( dont leave John’s side )’
John had stopped as he read one of the last entries:
‘Pick up ring’
He’d looked down at the glittering jewel in his hand and swallowed. He’d kept reading, he was nearing the day of the...accident.
‘Maharishi fellow in Wales, buy gift for fiance (!!!)’
After that there wasn’t much and John had been about to put it down and try to calm down when a far away entry had caught his eye. It had been tucked in there in December and it said:
‘Wedding day !!! Marry John, be happy forever’
He’d barely been able to finish the sentence before he’d burst into tears. John had fallen to the floor and sobbed and wailed. He was going to get married! He was going to be happy forever. Why could things never work out? What had happened? Had Brian regretted it so much he’d offed himself? Never . His fiance would have never done that to him, not to John. In a moment of agonized rage, John had ripped the ring off his finger and thrown it away. It had hit the wall with a soft ‘dunk’ and fallen to the floor.
John was snapped back to the present by a drunken laughter near him. Harry was still looking at him.
“Y’okay, pal?” Harry asked, “Looks like you were off in your head.”
John took the bottle from his and took a swig, “Yeah, somethin’ like that.” It had been years since Brian had left him. John had married Yoko, the Beatles had broken up, John had left Yoko and gotten with May, so many things. So much bullshit John would not have gone though had Brian stayed. He looked down at the ring, he’d found it in an old box as he was leaving the Dakota. He wore it sometimes, in the days when he felt truly horrible and worthless, John remembered the times when someone had found him beautiful and worthy enough to be proposed to. He promised to himself then that even if he got back with Yoko, he wouldn’t abandon the ring again, not for anything. John would treasure it until the day he died.
And John did. When the nurses found a beautiful diamond ring in John Lennon’s bloodied clothes, they naturally assumed it belonged to Yoko Ono. She’d accepted it, because she knew what it meant to John, and put it into the urn husband’s ashes laid. It’s location would die with her.