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“I just think that we need more backing vocals,” George said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. When Paul opened up his mouth to respond, the guitarist talked over him. “Now before you insult me or something, I’d just like you to know that I really like the song. I just think extra vocals will really make it a lot better.”
“I gave you a better guitar solo so that you would shut up!” Paul shouted at him, pouting.
“He’s right, though, Macca.” John squirmed uncomfortably under Paul’s glare. “It’ll definitely do better on the radio with more than just a few instruments--”
“All the other songs--”
“Paul, we’re talking about this one,” George interrupted. “I think the other songs are great, too. But we need to bring every song to its full potential, yeah?” The bassist just rolled his eyes but nodded anyway. He wasn’t going to win this battle no matter how much he tried.
But as soon as he sighed, Julian ran into the room, frantic. They all looked over at the boy shouting unintelligible things at his father while bouncing up and down on his feet.
“Jules?” Paul said. “What’s the matter?” He started towards Julian, but the boy just started to sob, and he froze. Not two seconds later, they all saw a dark stain spreading down his pants.
“Oh, god…” John mumbled as the other three’s faces turned sympathetic. Julian started to shove his shirt down into his crotch to hide what was happening, but all it did was get it more wet.
Paul sat his bass down as the poor kid finished emptying himself, and John was already moving quickly toward his son, saying something about how he was going to have to go bring him home to change.
“No!” Julian shouted at him, falling to the ground and into his puddle. “No, I wanna stay!”
“Julian, you’ve made a mess of yourself,” John replied sternly. “You have to go get changed.” He got even closer, and the boy started to cry harder. “If you had just told me you had to go earlier or gone to the toilet yourself, you would be able to stay here.”
“I couldn’t find it, daddy! I’m sorry!”
Paul watched as John’s son had a meltdown in his own mess, wincing. When John grabbed him by the wrist to pull him up is when he interfered.
“Hey, wait, John…” He hurried over to the boy and crouched down to talk to him, causing John to let him go and back up. “Jules, hey, you’re okay.” He put his hands on the boy’s arms, rubbing them slowly.
“I’m sorry, Paul. I don’t want to leave!” He snivelled, and John just stared at the two of them.
“Well, you haven’t got to, then. I’ve got something you can wear.”
Julian looked up at him with the brightest smile despite the tears running down his eyes. “Really?”
Paul didn’t actually have anything, but he knew he’d think of something by the time they had the boy cleaned up. And the fact that it made him so happy was enough. “Yeah! We’ve got to go dry you off first, though.”
He stood up, taking Julian’s hand, and started to walk him off to the toilet. John followed.
“Macca, what are you doing? You don’t have anything for him to wear.”
“Yes, I do,” he lied, hoping John would just leave it alone. The boy obviously wanted to stay, and Paul’s only concern was making him happy.
“Whatever.” They got to the toilet, and Paul helped the boy pull off his clothes as John got paper towels to dry him off.
“Hey, Julian,” Paul said to him as he pulled the shirt over the boy’s head. “Look, if you have to go again, don’t be afraid to come ask, okay? Either one of us, we’d be happy to take you or show you where it is.”
Julian didn’t say anything in response, only staring at John who was angrily yanking paper towels out of the small metal box on the wall. “Is he angry with me?” Paul shook his head. “Are you sure?”
“John?” Paul said. “Jules wants to know if you’re angry with him.” When Paul asked that question, he meant for it to be a way for Julian to find out that John wasn’t, but John didn’t get the memo.
“A little bit, yeah.” Julian started to cry again, hugging Paul’s knee, and the bassist just glared at his father.
‘Really?’ he mouthed.
“Well, it’s true, isn’t it?” John came back over to the two of them, handing a few of his paper towels to Paul.
“Go away!” his son shouted at him, and he felt his heart break in his chest. He huffed.
“You can clean him up,” he mumbled, storming out of the bathroom, leaving Paul alone with the boy. But no matter how angry he was at John, all he cared about was helping poor Julian.
“Alright, love, hey, can you dry off your legs with these?” He handed the towels to Julian and picked up the wet clothes on the ground. “I’m going to get something to put these in, okay? I’ll be right back with something for you.”
Julian immediately started to wipe off his legs, and Paul left the toilet, practically running to where the other Beatles were cleaning up the puddle on the floor with paper towels. He threw the clothes at John..
“You’re an asshole, John Lennon. I don’t care how mad you are at Julian, you don’t have to tell him! You can deal with those. I’m going to be a good father to your child, because it’s obvious that he doesn’t have one.”
Paul marched back to the bathroom to find a naked Julian, all dry, standing in the middle of the floor.
“What am I wearing?” he whispered, and Paul froze, trying to pretend he knew. And immediately, he pulled his sweater vest over his head and handed it down to Julian.
“Just put that on. It’ll be a little bit big on you, but…”
Julian smiled excitedly. “Oh, my gosh! I get to wear your vest?!” He had it on over himself within seconds. “It looks just like a dress! So pretty!” Paul chuckled, and Julian just kept giggling, hugging Paul again.
“Let’s go back out there now, okay?” Julian hesitated. “Hey, your father’s going to want to make sure you’re okay.”
“He’s gonna be mad.”
“He’s not mad, love. He’s just a bit annoyed. You know, he gets annoyed at me all the time. A lot more than at you, probably. I guess he just loves you more!” Paul picked up a very amused Julian off the floor.
“No!” he giggled. “Well, I love you, Paul. Even if daddy doesn’t!”
“Aw, thanks, Jules. Let’s go on out there. I’m sure Ringo and George are pretty worried about you, as well.” He started to walk out of the toilet and brought Julian back with him out to the others, who had finished cleaning up the floor. He saw a plastic bag with Julian’s clothes sitting on a chair across the room.
He set the boy down, and he ran right over to John. “I’m sorry, daddy! I didn’t mean to make you annoyed.”
John smiled when he hugged his leg. “It’s alright, love. I wasn’t annoyed at you. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Don’t forget to tell us if you have to go again, yeah?” Paul asked, and Julian backed away from John and nodded, going to sit down on the couches in the next room over. Then John looked over at Paul.
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?” Paul asked, putting his bass back over his shoulder.
“You know what!” John snapped, but realised what he was doing and tried to keep his cool. “I just… I try so hard to just be his friend, and he always ends up hating me for it.”
Paul smiled sadly. “Well, John, you’re not supposed to be his friend. You’re supposed to be his dad.”
“But how do you just calm him down so easily?” He was getting much too restless and nervous asking these questions.
“Well, for starters, you’ve got to realise he’s four, and sometimes he doesn’t make the best decisions or is too shy to ask for what he needs. Instead of getting mad at him for his mistakes, you should let him know that what happened wasn’t his fault. And then calmly…” Paul put emphasis on the word. “Tell him what he should do next time.”
John rolled his eyes at how good the advice was. “Since when did Paul McCartney become such a good father?”
“Since John Lennon wasn’t,” Paul joked with a laugh.
“Oh, fuck you.”