Chapter Text
You'd known John since you started at Liverpool College of Art. You had to admit he was... Quite a unique person. You'd met in one of your drawing classes, where you'd noticed his drawing style was quite distinctive (just like him, but never mind that). Messy lines, dirty pages and rather minimalistic sketches made it, on the contrary, natural for you to become interested in his works and vice versa. Later conversations (i.e., asking him about his homework and whether he could copy it) led you to the moment when you realized you were standing right in front of the cavern building. You were practically doomed, although the upside was that, despite Lennon standing next to you in all his glory, he'd graciously driven you in his car and even carried your art supplies. As fate would have it, you had to paint your loved ones for your final exam, and your parents were too busy to sit still and pose for you for a few hours. So you decided to ask John for help. After all, he could pose for a while, and it always meant fewer people to paint, right? Wrong. Dead wrong. That's how you got yourself into a real mess, because instead of one person, you had to paint four - of whom you only knew one well, the other three being John's bandmates, whom he told you about during the car ride. After all, someone had to pick up your art supplies and drive you, and your mom trusted Lennon the most. If only she knew that daft drove around without glasses while he was blind as a bat… But besides that, he was a good lad. Mostly.
Pulling up right in front of the building marked "10 Mathew Street," you shook your head to yourself as John continued to fumble with his guitar and art supplies. Oh yeah, you'd forgotten he'd been left behind while you were busy searching for the right address.
“That’s it?” You eyed the building, not really impressed by the overall appearance of it. You expected something… Less boring and more interesting? The club was located in a rather unremarkable building, with nothing to distinguish it except for a large poster advertising the venue. Other than that, it didn't exactly knock your socks off. Even before you entered the building, you had a feeling that space would be tight, especially when you have to move around with large sketchbooks or canvases. Not to mention three guitars and drums in the way.
“Alright, yeah, what did you expect? Some kinda castle?” John asked, tossing one of the sketchbooks in the air a little, which only made you jump.
“Bloody Christ!” You hissed at Lennon and pushed his shoulder which caused his guitar case, which he had on his back, to wobble slightly and made the man sway equally on his feet - the joys of carrying a case on one shoulder.
“Oi! Watch out, woman!” He croaked and it only made you laugh. “If yer mum knew what a little terror you are…” You shook your head in disbelief, Lennon wouldn’t dare to snitch on you to your own mother, he knew that you’d start a whole conversation of “some people not wearing glasses while driving a car” and he’d definitely lose the obligation to drive you in his car and take you wherever he pleases. It was always “don’t worry ma’am, I’ll take good care of “er!” and your mother not really wondering where on earth this moron was taking you. She trusted him more than you trusted yourself. I guess if there was a chance, they would adopt him and give you to Mimi.
Shortly after a heated exchange of words and threats, you both entered the Cavern Club building. Passing the bartender, you noticed your friend merely nodding at him, but they didn’t speak to each other. The bartender himself looked worn out, but that didn't mean he didn't give you a slightly suspicious look. Knowing you'd come here with John and weren't just some random wanderer didn't make him apologize, he just looked away. Okay, that was rude. Either way, you thought little of it, instead focusing on the path to the room where the rehearsal was to take place. The hallway was relatively narrow, which you noticed by the way Lennon tried to maneuver through it without damaging his guitar, your belongings, or himself. Soon, you reached the coveted room, where the three musicians were already waiting for you. You knew their names; you weren't stupid - you'd read newspapers and magazines, and observed the situation from the perspective of both a fan and someone close to the band. Your friendship with Lennon sometimes paid off, to be honest Despite the many benefits of having a larger group of friends at school, being friends with the guitarist was worthwhile because it was through him that you got to know the whole band in person.
“Ay, lads! That’s me friend, Jane. She’ll be painting us for next…” John trailed off, looking at you as if to help him out, but you just shrugged. You couldn’t really determine the time of painting not one, not two, but four lads. Plus their instruments. It’s going to be a long period full of hard work.
“...while.” He faltered, putting your art supplies down, next to a nearby wall, so you could maneuver where you wanted to paint.
“She’s that one bird who paints?” You heard one of the voices and based on how well you knew that voice, you deduced that it was the bassist, McCartney. He was a man not much taller than John, but what set him apart were his features and long eyelashes. Honestly? You envied him such pretty eyelashes! Overall, he had a rather feminine-looking face. Besides, he seemed friendly, so you smiled back without hesitation, and, a little embarrassed by the fact that they'd already heard so much about you, you nodded, gently bending your knees. You did it rather out of politeness and some kind of reflex.
“Yeh told us about ‘er! I remember now, nice to meet ya in person.” The next voice you heard was the one you didn’t quite catch without looking at the interlocutor. Based on comments in the magazine, you looked at the nose and blue eyes - Ringo. The only one in the band with blue eyes, so he was easy to catch in this confusion. Interestingly, he was also the shortest of the four, even though, according to the magazines and the knowledge Lennon had imparted on you during the car journey, he was also the oldest. Last one, sitting by the wall, was Harrison. You recognized him by his rather thicker eyebrows. As it turns out, telling them apart wasn't as difficult as you'd thought. He hasn't spoken to you directly, but only gave a small nod. It was better than nothing.
“Kids these days…” Lennon shook his head and patted your shoulder. “Hazza! Didn't yer mum not raise ye like a proper gentleman or somethin’?” But this comment only made a guitarist sigh and shake his head, as if to let John know that he was being a pain in the arse. Again.
“No, that’s fine, Jon.” You insisted, but in response you heard another sigh, not even paying attention to who made this sound.
As time passed, the rehearsal began, and you decided to take a seat right next to the wall, initially working on a rough sketch on paper. Only later did you spread out a bit more - a portable easel, a canvas, and preparing it for the painting. You didn't have to fiddle much with the background; as fate would have it, the rehearsal took place in a room with fairly subdued walls, so the initial preparation was more than enough. All you needed to do was mark the points where the light was coming from, the base color for the background, and a few other details. With time, a question arose, however: who would you paint first?