Paul Mccartney 🪲 #21

1957
Tonight was the first time your boyfriend, Paul McCartney, and his band performed in front of a live audience.
He was clearly nervous, but he didn't want you to know. He wanted to seem calm in front of you.
You were sitting on a chair in the club's small dressing room; it was just the two of you, as the other band members had gone out to get drinks before the concert.
You watched Paul fix his hair in front of the mirror and, every now and then, wipe his sweaty hands on his black leather jacket.
He let out a sigh of frustration, leaning back in his chair and looking down at his legs, almost as if he didn't want to look at himself anymore.
Can you do my hair...? he murmured, his gaze fixed on his lap. You always make it look right...