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The first thing George ever learns about soulmates is that his aren't normal.
It doesn't matter how much his mom tries to reassure him - George will never forget the day he showed his teacher the two timers on his wrists and then promptly lifted his shirt up to point out where the third one was hidden from view. She tried, but couldn't mask her reaction fast enough. The woman had looked at him like he was a freak.
"What?" George asked, confused. He tried to analyse his clocks, and they seemed fairly normal, same way they've always been.
Mrs. O'Dell gave him an odd smile, "People usually only have one soulmate, George, but that's okay. You're a very lucky boy."
She didn't look like she thought he was lucky at all.
(...)
George isn't embarrassed of his soulmates.
He's annoyed when people stare curiously at him, but he refuses to hide the timers. It seems stupid to do so - yeah, he's got three soulmates, what's the big deal?
While growing up, George decides he doesn't care at all about others' opinions on the subject.
At night, when he's trying to fall asleep, he watches the seconds go by on either of his wrists. George secretly wishes his soulmates will all at least be into Elvis, too.
(...)
The clock on his left arm and the one on his belly never change time. He can't say the same for his right arm though.
George studies in Dovedale - it's his first school and he's friends with all the lads in his class. Their teacher lets them play football together during gym, and it's on the way there that it happens.
His countdown goes all the way from ten years to three minutes.
George stops dead in his tracks, looking around. There's no one in the hall besides his classmates and the cleaning lady, every other room is closed.
His teacher urges him to keep going and he nods, turning a corridor-
When George looks down again, his timer is marking ten years into the future, like it never showed anything else before.
(...)
(It's much, much later that George finds out there was indeed someone else around; a boy pissing in the bathroom who got the scare of his life watching the numbers on his left arm go down all at once.)
(...)
He tells his mom about the incident during breakfast the next morning. His dad and brother are at the table as well, listening in but not saying a word.
George quietly confesses he's afraid he did something wrong, that he messed up his fate somehow and now will never find that person again.
His mom smiles at him, ever so caring, "Soulmates are not just about fate. You can't ruin them."
"What do ye mean?"
"They're part of you, luv - and there's nothing you can do that could shatter that connection. You lost your chance yesterday, but there'll be other opportunities."
George nods, considering her words. He presses his arms against his stomach and thinks, especially when I've got three of 'em, there will be a ton of opportunities.
His dad asks him to pass the milk, distracting him from his mind. It's the last time they have a conversation about soulmates.
(...)
For secondary school, George gets into Liverpool Institute. He starts taking the bus everyday.
George is sure someone in there is his soulmate.
The whole situation leaves him feeling anxious. When he enters the bus, his clock starts counting down from twenty minutes. When he gets out and enters his class, it goes back to twenty-four hours.
There are a lot of people his age who could very well be his soulmate, but George doesn't feel comfortable talking with anyone. He thinks the teens from his school are a bunch of weirdos - for example, the kid who's sitting next to him today is singing out loud to himself.
George stops and listens in, as if to prove a point. He realizes the other bloke's voice is good, actually. Unexpected. And he's sure he knows the song.
"Carl Perkins?"
He doesn't realize he said anything out loud until the lad turns towards him, smiling and extending one hand. It feels like George just passed some kind of test. The kid says, "No, I'm Paul McCartney. And ye are?"
George laughs at the stupid joke, taken aback. They start talking.
It's only as they're getting closer to school that the two realize the clocks on their respectitive wrists have finally reached zero.
(...)
Paul plays bass and the piano and a million different instruments. Paul likes Elvis and Little Richard and the Everly Brothers.
Paul has three timers - one on each of his wrists and another on the palm of his hand.
"'m telling ye, Geo, we've got the same soulmates."
They're sitting on George's bed, waiting for their favorite radio show to start. Paul holds the guitar close to his lap, but he's not playing. No, right now he's staring at his soulmate right in the eye, as serious as can be.
George refuses to agree.
"What's the chance of that?" He says, biting on his bottom lip. "What, ye think we'll be a big an' happy group of queers?"
"What's the chance both of us got three clocks anyway? If ye haven't noticed, that's kinda uncommon." Paul retorts. "'Sides, ye don't even know if they're all blokes too."
"Yer third clock isn't even on yer belly!"
Macca shrugs, "That means nothin'."
George looks away from Paul and down at his right wrist - he still has a few years left before this person gets into his life. He sighs, "I just think ye raising yer expectations too high, is all."
"'m not." Paul tightens his hold on the guitar, ghosting his fingers over the strings, "Ye'll see."
The radio host unknowingly interrupts their conversation, announcing the show is right about to start and silecing the two teenagers. George likes these moments the most, though he'll never admit it - just breathing next to Paul, coexisting together.
(And even so, they feel unfulfilled.)
(...)
Two years later and Paul is at his door, proudly showing George his left wrist.
Another one of his clocks has reached zero.
"His name is John Lennon." Macca explains, softly looking away. "I got in his band."
George holds Paul's arm carefully in his hand, tracing his fingers over the clock - there's a chill passing through his entire body as he does so.
"'m happy for ye, Paulie." George answers, surprising himself as he realises he's not faking it.
"Ye should be happy for yerself too." Paul says, his smile now so bright it could blind, "It wasn't easy, but I got ye an audition."
George lets go of the other's arm, suddenly somber, "Paul..."
"Don't start." He rolls his eyes. "Forget about soulmates. Ye can play difficult songs without getting a thing wrong, Georgie. Yer talented!"
George knows that's not really Paul's motivation, but he lets himself blush. A part of him is grateful; he thought maybe, when Paul found his other soulmates, he would just leave George behind. He knows now that won't be the case.
George accepts the hug when Macca offers it, breathing against his neck. It feels like home.
(...)
George plays Raunchy by Bill Justis and is impressive enough to get accepted into a band full of older kids.
John Lennon is intimidating at first, but his laugh is loud and genuine. John Lennon likes cats and drawing and listening to blues.
John Lennon has three timers - one on each of his wrists and another on the side of his leg.
George is one of his soulmates, and he's one of George's.
(...)
Besides everything, Liverpool isn't a progressive city. When it comes out the three of them are soulmates, they meet many more judgmental people than they ever wanted to.
(Just a week before, John cursed Father Mckenzie for implying he should stop meeting with the other lads if he doesn't want to go to hell. Aunt Mimi almost had a heart attack.)
George thinks everyone else is wrong about having multiple soulmates - they're not a problem. It's much better than just having one.
When he gets tired of Paul's bossy behavior, he hides at John's house and the two play guitar together, trying to teach each other music or making up melodies on the spot. John gets into deep conversation easily and by the end of the day they've talked about anything under the sun.
But it's not always perfect, and when Lennon's obnoxious attitude is too much to bear, George and Paul get together. Between the two, Paul makes most of the talking, but George doesn't care at all. He could listen to his soulmate's voice forever - it was the first thing that attracted him to Macca, after all.
There are moments when being the town's gossip ends up overwhelming the lads - that's how they start the habit of going hiking.
They get far away from the city. George has always preferred nature anyway, and it's even better with people he loves. John and Paul keep trying to make each other trip or fall, being generally underappreciative of anything that isn't themselves. If they think George's too quiet, they start singing his favorite songs and urge him to do the same.
George calls them both annoying cunts and John gasps, pretending to feel hurt.
It's the happiest he's been in a long time.
(...)
They hang out at the cemitery most afternoons, sometimes just to smoke without their parents' knowledge. Stu usually tags along, but today they didn't invite him.
They have soulmate business to discuss.
George, Paul and John are sitting against a grave, comparing the last timers still counting down on their bodies. It's almost creepy: they all show the exact same time.
"Three years left." John breathes out, letting go of the hem of his pants. He sounds disappointed.
"Maybe the person's not from Liverpool," George suggests. He can't help but feel the same way John does: there's a constant nagging in the back of his mind, telling him something's missing. Someone's missing. And he can't do anything about it.
Paul coughs, "This one time, me clock went from eight years to five minutes and back. The bloke is from Liverpool for sure."
John leans his head towards Macca, "Go on then, tell ye tale."
"No tale." Paul shrugs. "Me brother was stuck in the hospital, he had broken his leg y'know, and we went to visit him, that's when it happened. Me dad didn't let me look around, said it was too dangerous in a room full of sick kids. By the time we left, the clock was counting down from eight years again, I didn't talk to me dad for a whole week!"
They're sitting so close together George can feel Paul's laughter pass through his body, causing a smile to appear involuntarily on his face.
He hands the ciggie they're sharing over to John, watching as his soulmate takes a deep drag. It's relaxing.
George remembers what his mom told him all those years ago, when the same situation happened to him - there will be other opportunities.
Their little ragtag group still has time to be completed.
(...)
George's grades are decaying hard and fast. He can't remember the last time he got an A.
The Quarrymen change their name to the Silver Beetles. They play to any and every club in Liverpool that'll have them.
George thinks it's a better waste of his time than secondary school ever was.
(...)
Williams tells the boys that, if they want to, he has a spot for them in Hamburg.
He must think he needs to sound convincing: Williams starts talking about a band that went there and got relatively famous, that he thinks they have the same potencial and--
John raises his hand, stopping the lad from continuing, "'Course we'll play."
In a rare display of actual friendship, Paul and Stu highfive. George presses his arms against his stomach almost like reflex.
Only a few more months left.
(...)
They're sleeping behind a small cinema, next to the ladies' bathroom. There are only two beds and everything smells awful. Their clientele are prostitutes and old drunk german men.
They're having the time of their lives.
George is finally learning how to perform well for an audience - John and Paul act like they're already professionals. Those people in the club are always screaming: mach schau! mach schau!; they respond by playing the loudest songs they know, receving back excited applause.
During the first two months, the band feels like kings.
John mentions that to Williams, one day, making the old man laugh, "Competition is comin' soon, lads."
"Who's comin'?" Pete questions.
"Rory Storm and the Hurricanes, 'course."
The group shares a look - John doesn't take it seriously, grinning as he answers, "We can deal with Rory Storm."
(...)
While watching the band on stage, George is inclined to agree with Lennon. They really are better than Rory Storm and the Hurricanes.
The only difference is that they don't have a drummer that memorable.
George thinks he's never seen natural talent like Ringo Starr's: the lad is nasty looking, with a white stripe of hair and serious face, but he plays the drums better than anyone else George's ever met. He's almost jealous of Rory for finding such a person in their city.
He doesn't know how long he's been staring at that pink suit for, but he swears he could have spent the entire set looking. Paul's the one who breaks him from the trance, putting a hand on his shoulder.
"Oh my God," his soulmate says, doesn't explain. "Oh my God."
"What is it?" John asks, only his head poking out from where he's hidden behind Pete.
"I think one of them is our soulmate."
Paul shows them his palm: the clock is counting down from fifteen minutes - right after Rory's set ends, when they're supposed to greet the band backstage.
John scrunches up his nose. "'m not Rory Storm's soulmate."
"It could be anyone in the club," George replies. "Probably a coincidence."
"Not a coincidence." Paul shakes his head with certainty. "It's one of 'em."
(...)
After the band leaves, John and George convince Paul not to go backstage. Stu calls them a bunch of idiots.
They go back to their room, check on their timers. It marks twenty-two hours - at the same moment they'll finish playing tomorrow night.
(...)
Rory Storm and Ringo Starr are both in the audience, whispering to each other. It's a different feeling when George's the one being stared by his possible soulmate.
He's not sure which one of the two he should prefer.
Paul's trying to be even more charming than usual, if that's possible. John's singing so loud it's like he's trying to break his vocal cords. George makes sure he doesn't get a single chord wrong.
Stu is right - they're idiots, trying to impress a person they don't even know yet.
The Silver Beetles wrap up the set by singing Twist and Shout. John thanks the audience and they take their cue to leave.
As soon as they're offstage, Lennon's offering him a ciggie. "It's good for the nerves," he explains.
George lights it up without replying anything.
They watch as Rory and Ringo make their way over. Stu slaps John's back and whispers "good luck", taking Pete by the arm and away from the scene.
Paul tries to reassure his soulmates by smiling lightly. George's not paying attention - he's thinking to himself, over and over again, this is it.
Rory Storm greets them first, shaking their hands, "Good show."
John grins, "We sure can make more birds scream than ye lads."
"Ye can? That's funny, 'cause all I saw back there was passed out drunk blokes."
"Rory." Ringo speaks up, holding his friends' arm.
Rory shakes it free, "No worries, Ritch. It's just some friendly rivalry."
Ringo Starr takes a step ahead. "You always do this," he complains.
The drummer turns to look at George and his whole demeanor changes - it's the first time they've seen him smiling.
"Oh my God," Paul repeats. George knows right then they're all thinking the same thing.
Ringo isn't scary at all. Ringo has beautiful eyes and a lovely smile.
Ringo's sleeves are rolled up above his elbows and George can see the timers on each of his wrists - both are at zero.
"Where's the third?" He asks, staring shamelessly at the man's arms. He doesn't care if he's being rude or too forward. George doesn't even remember Rory is there, witnessing the interaction unfold.
Ringo blinks slowly, smile fading. He pushes his collar down to expose his collorbone and George nods, like everything suddenly makes sense - the three clocks are on display, all of them stopped.
Paul looks down at his own hand and John almost falls over trying to push the hems of his pants up.
George smiles, showing off his fangs. He doesn't know what to say, so he settles with "'ello."
Ringo doesn't seem too shocked with the whole situation. In fact, he starts laughing loudly, throwing his head back.
"Do ye know how fucking weird it is to have three clocks counting down the same time?!" He exclaims.
They do know, and the four of them laugh together.
(...)
They leave Rory behind, going out into the streets to find some place where they can be alone. The group settles for a sidewalk, and it's cold enough they get an excuse to be as close as possible.
George is between Paul and Ringo, Macca's head resting on his shoulder. John's sitting on the opposite side, full of unrested energy, talking with their newest soulmate. He's laughing at every joke Ringo makes, but that's just because John is really happy.
George's not paying much attention; all of his strength is going towards not falling asleep - he's never felt this much peace.
He's holding Ritchie's hands, trying to stop those fingers from beating against his leg like a drum. Paul's humming a melody under his breath, eyes closed, so George is the only one watching as John takes a drag of his ciggie again, the smell of nicotin filling all their noses.
This is it.
(...)
The first time they play together, something changes. Like the world is finally clicking into place.
John's singing an original song of his, Paul and George sharing the same mic as backup vocals. Sometimes they'll smile at each other or turn around and look at Ringo. They can't seem to keep their eyes on the audience for too long and nobody expects them to.
People have started saying they'll get big one day - it's amazing to not be judged, but praised, for having more than one soulmate. Everyone finally understands what he has always seen.
George thinks this is how he was supposed to be feeling the entire time: there's no nagging in his ear or emptiness in his chest, not anymore. He's completed.
They're going to do so much, and the best part is they'll do it together.