Chapter Text
Paul McCartney woke up one morning with a heavy feeling on his chest. But it wasn’t an emotional weight, it was physical.
He walked up to his bathroom mirror as he buttoned up his dress shirt, taking a good look at himself. He noticed that something about him had changed. He looked more… Voluptuous? Particularly in his chest. He turned his body, trying to see what felt so off. He noticed a small bump in his chest area, not too noticeable, but it made Paul’s face heat up in embarrassment.
"Perhaps I’ve gained weight?" He mumbled to himself.
Eventually, he shrugged it off and continued dressing. Although it was warm out, he decided to put on a jacket as well, hoping to shield his body’s new development from the others at today’s rehearsal. The jacket fit much more tightly than usual. He found himself sweating by the time he got the buttons through the holes, especially around his chest. He could only pray that no one else would notice.
***
Paul cleared his throat. “God, I’m sorry, something’s wrong with my voice today.”
George, John, and Ringo resituated themselves as Paul took a sip from his tea. His voice had cracked again during their recording. And as they were singing, they’d had to up the octave, as Paul couldn’t get his voice to go as deep as their previous rehearsals. He felt terribly sorry, but he wasn’t sure what else there was to do. They had to get the new album out soon, despite the issues with his voice.
“Perhaps we should record on another day,” suggested John. “You can let yourself rest a bit, Paul.”
“No,” Paul replied. “I’m fine. It might be best to record without me today. We have to finish up the album soon.”
There was a silence in the room as the band ruminated on their choices.
“Whaddya drinkin, Paul?” Ringo asked.
Paul took another sip before answering. “Tea with estrogen. I’d never heard of it, but a friend gave me some to try out. It’s supposed to be good for focus.”
George scoured. “Dear God, what are you talking about? It’s not good for focus, it’s good for turning you into a woman!”
Paul’s eyes widened. “What? What do you mean?”
“Estrogen is a hormone, it’s the woman one,” George answered. “How long have you been taking that stuff?”
“Maybe… about three months?”
“Oh, so Paul’s a woman now?” John interjected.
“I’m not a woman,” Paul replied instantly. “But I guess that explains what’s been happening to, uh, my body.”
“You have boobs?!” John said, raising his voice.
Paul jumped up, putting his finger to his mouth. “Shh shh shh, no one else can know.”
Ringo watched the conversation in stunned silence, while George ran his hands through his hair. “What are we going to do now?” he asked.
“... Well, I’ll stop taking estrogen. And I should go home for the day. You three can finish recording without me. I’ll have to wait for my voice to recover.”
John got up, putting a hand on Paul’s shoulder. “Are you sure you’ll be alright?”
Paul, whose adrenaline was already increasing by the second, felt his heart jump at John’s touch. His skin was feeling much more sensitive than before. The heat of John's hand, as well as his previous exasperation, made his face heat up to the point that he was sure the others could see. Paul swallowed and brushed John's hand off.
“Yeah, I’ll be okay. The effects will go away once I get off the stuff, surely.”
He tried to give a smile to the others before packing his stuff and leaving the studio.