Classic Rock Imagines and Preferences

Good Night -The Beatles-

People never seemed to understand what you meant when you said you were out of time, that you couldn't go on, that you needed to stop. They always told you that you were too young, that you still had the energy, that you were faking. After a while, you began to believe them. Maybe they were right, maybe you were overreacting, maybe you were just trying to get out of it, maybe... but it didn't seem like it. You began to believe that crying at 3am because you had too much things to do was a normal thing for everyone. You began to believe that feeling like shit everyday was ok. You began to believe that hating everyone and everything around you was fine. The title to the book of your life could've been 17 and hateful.

Studying to become a doctor was your dad's dream, not yours. Still, he forced it on you, making a point of telling you that if you failed, you wouldn't be worth it. It hurt at the beginning to know that you didn't mean anything more than that to your father, but you got over it. Would it really be that bad if you were to become a failure? Weren't you already one? At least, that's how you felt these days. You hated the music you listened to. But it made you feel like you were normal. Following the trends was a way for you to escape the fact that you had nothing to hold on to. So you had taken on the habit of just listening to whatever was trending without even liking it, just to be able to say you were like the others, because it hurt too much to be your own person. Your own person who's a failure. Same thing for your clothes, you were styled like the others. Of course you didn't like it, but it's what made you feel somewhat normal.

It only took a music class to save you. One hour and you weren't so helpless anymore. It didn't simply disappear in the blink of an eye, but it began to go away. The clouds weren't so grey anymore, the rain in your heart was no longer permanent, the dread in your bones wasn't staining them any longer. It took one hour, one hour and one song.

That day, the mental breakdown was so close you could feel it just upon your head. Like a heavy rain cloud that was one droplet away from letting it all fall down. Waking up had been hard enough and you didn't even want to think about crossing your parents in the kitchen. They wouldn't be mean, but they would remind you how much they wanted you to succeed, how they knew you could do it, how much it was important for your future, and it nearly made you sick. Sweet ignorent people made you want to puke, optimistic ones too. They were naive and blind to the harsh reality. So, for once, you skipped breakfast and tried to get out of the house as discretly as you could.

Boring walk to school.

Boring teachers who taught boring subjects.

Boring lunch break with boring "friends".

And then, like a ray of sunshine through the dark clouds, that one hour.

The teacher seemed particularly eager to teach you today. A big smile on his face, CDs and records on the desk and even a powerpoint that said The Beatles on the board. You sighed. You knew who were The Beatles, they were a band from the 60s that had lasted 10 years and from which half of the original members were dead. The only thing to cross your mind before the class began was that you'd find it as boring as you had found the other classes today.

"Alright, class. Today, I want to show you who The Beatles are." People looked at him with question marks in their eyes. Of course they knew who they were, by name, but who cared about them more than that? No one apparently.

"Yes, yes. I know you think you know enough of them. But you're wrong. No offense, but you're all just a bunch of kids, you know nothing of the biggest band ever." He said with a thriumphant smile on his face. "Now, let's get to know these boys, shall we?" And with that, he began the course.

By the end of the hour, you were completely hooked. Paul, Ringo, John and George were the most interesting people you knew in that broken life of yours and you hadn't even made an effort to get to know their music before. The teacher passed to the next slide of the powerpoint and the homework for the next class appeared on it. Listening to one of their album and choosing the song that connected with you the most. Your face didn't show any emotion, but you were beaming on the inside. For the first time in two years, you might enjoy listening to music... maybe. You were still a bit wary about it. Normal, considering the fact that you had never heard good music in your whole sad little life. The teacher began distributing the albums between people.

"Y/N, you'll be listening to The Beatles. More commonly known as the white album" He said, as he handed you a white CD cover. You mumbled a thank you and observed it. As the teacher continued to distribute CDs to the rest of the class, you looked at the back. There was a lot of songs on that thing! The titles were weird too. Glass Onion? Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey? Suddenly, you weren't so sure about it anymore. putting the album in your bag, you waited for the bell to ring and left.

You layed on your bed, looking at the ceiling while the CD player played the first of the two CDs. From what you had heard, you weren't too impressed. The first four weren't that interesting and Wild Honey Pie left you feeling weird. But when While My Guitar Gently Weeps came on, you listened a bit more closely. It didn't sound so bad... not bad at all actually. By the end of it, you were humming along and felt strangely nostalgic. The lyrics weren't what got to you, it was the guitar, the way it sounded like it was indeed weeping. This song made you realize how sad you felt, it was representing the hell your life had been so far. A tear rolled down your cheek and you continued on with the rest of the first disc, nothing else catching your ears like While My Guitar Gently Weeps.

The second disc was a bit more strange. Everybody's Got Something to Hide Except Me and My Monkey was funny, it made you laugh a little. Savoy Truffle was... fine. But Revolution 9. Oh God, that song. The beginning on its own was quite weird, but the longer you stayed and listened to it, the more it scared you. Then he began saying something like riot or right and that's when you had enough of it. You paused the music and took a moment to appreciate the newly found silence in your room. The tought that maybe The Beatles weren't that great grazed your mind, but you chased it as soon as it came. A part of you really wanted to like them, love them even. So you passed on to the next song without finishing Revolution 9. Trying to forget the horror you had just heard.

At this point, your eyes were closing by themselves. You didn't have a lot of energy these days. Spending it all on trying to live like your parents wanted you to. So when Good Night started, you almost fell asleep immediately. The music was so soothing, making you feel warm and safe. One word came to mind as you heard the violins : Lullaby. That song was a lullaby. You knew it wasn't Paul or John singing this one, but whoever it was, he had the perfect voice for it. You closed your eyes and let the music take over your sense. A smile slowly creeping up your face as that someone was singing you to sleep and a shiver ran down your spine when the second verse began. This was all so overwhelming. It was the better you had felt in days, weeks, months even and you didn't want it to end. And so, by the end of Good Night, you were fast asleep on your bed, still in your day clothes, all curled up against your pillow, a tear rolling down your cheek and a smile on your peaceful face.

You got up, the next morning, feeling calm and not like you hadn't slept at all. You weren't smiling or as happy as you would've hoped, but the sadness had faded away a little. "It's okay," you told yourself, "It's going to take time before it goes away for good." Maybe While My Guitar Gently Weeps wasn't the one that connected with you the most, actually.

You would never know, but this song saved your life. With something as simple as a lullaby. It took time, a lot of time, a lot of tears, a lot of emotions, but you got through it. With a little help from your new found friends, The Beatles.