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“I’m fuckin’ John Lennon, you know?”
“Is that right?” There was amusement and fondness in Noel’s voice as he looked up from the notebook. He was seated at the table in his flat, cup of tea at his side and guitar on its stand by his chair as he worked on song lyrics for the next single.
“Yeah mate, I’m fuckin’ mega and all that,” Liam continued as he stared out the window.
“I think John Lennon was more well behaved than you are.”
“Fuck do you know? Did you know him?”
Noel raised his teacup to his lips to take a sip. “Me? No.”
“Then shut up about what John Lennon was and wasn’t. He was mega, that’s all that matters.”
Noel found his lips twitching upward in a smile despite himself. His brother had decided to randomly pay him a visit today, and while Noel preferred to work alone when writing songs, he found Liam’s presence made the process less high-stakes (when they weren’t fighting) and a bit more bearable when he was feeling particularly burnt out.
“What, d’you like my hair or something?” Liam asked, now facing the songwriter. “Something catching your eye?”
“You’re growing it out, looks like,” Noel noted. “You’re going to look like a bird before long.”
“Not like a bird, like John Lennon.”
“Right, right.” Noel rolled his eyes. “You think you’re him and whatnot.”
Liam scoffed and lit up a cigarette, opening the window before blowing smoke out. “Everyone would want to be John Lennon if they could pick someone to be.”
Noel thought about the statement for a moment. He’d imagined himself as a Beatle when he was a child, he thought about joining as the fifth member or strictly as the lyricist or as their roadie, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever thought about being John Lennon.
“Nah, I think you’re wrong, our kid.” Noel put his teacup down and ate up the sideeye Liam sent his way.
“What d’you mean I’m wrong? I’m right. Everyone with a brain would want to be John Lennon if that was an option.”
“Not me.”
“Bullshit, Noel, I know you wish you were a Beatle and all that,” Liam accused, pointing at Noel with his cigarette. “I know you’ve thought about being Lennon and writing biblical tunes.”
Noel shifted his head from side to side. “Yeah, you’re right, I imagined myself as one of their mates when I was eight, but I never wanted to be Lennon.”
“Bullshit, why not?”
“Because in my imagination I was always Noel Gallagher.”
“And that was good enough for you?”
“Guess I just never imagined myself in a different person’s body where I didn’t have mam and Paul and you.”
Liam was genuinely taken aback and Noel himself was surprised that he let the words slip–he meant them but he didn’t mean to be so… nice about it–but he quickly recovered from his own surprise by drinking his tea again.
“And me?”
That’s what I fuckin’ said, Noel stopped himself from saying something mean. “I- You were part of that statement, weren’t you? Or are you going deaf?”
“Nothin’ you’re just not one to say nice things about me unprompted.” The younger brother then noticed the cigarette had fallen from his fingers and was now burning on the floor. Quickly he stubbed it out, using it as an excuse to not have to look at Noel.
“I say plenty nice things about you.”
“Then tell me I’m John Lennon.”
Noel rolled his eyes and closed his notebook. “No point mate, you’re Liam Gallagher and you’re in the best band in the world.”
Liam chuckled, staring out the window. “Right you are.”