John finds that little spark of happiness in his life.
You step off the train onto the busy platform.
You can barely see a thing
There are people everywhere
Barely any space to breathe
You sigh, picking up that annoyingly heavy suitcase with one hand and pulling it down the platform towards a bench.
You sit down, because you can't be bothered to walk any further.
You can't do this anymore
All the chaos, the travelling, the early starts, the late nights, the nightclubs, airplanes, performances, fans, music, interviews, you just can't take it anymore.
You've paid the price of fame
But you don't want it anymore
You just want to go home
You bury your face in your hands, rubbing the sleep out of your already drooping eyes.
Sometimes you hate the Beatles
Sometimes you wish they never existed
You wander why you keep going
You watch through the gap in your fingers, at everyone passing you, hoping they wont see who you are.
There's someone running towards you
You look closer and see it's a small boy
Probably a young fan wanting an autograph
You envy the man who is lucky enough to be the father of that little angel
But then you see the lad's face...
And you realise...
You get up from the bench, as the small boy leaps forward into your arms. And you lift him up, high above your head, and begin turning in circles while he laughs. You laugh with him.
People are staring. They've seen your face.
But for once, you don't care
It's just you and him
You whisper those proud words into his ear as you pull him into a gentle hug