Hi, so this is my first fanfic so go easy on me (;. I'm not actually sure about how Paul felt about Brian's death which is why I wrote this. I don't actually think he would be this depressed but I made it up. I hope you like it! Reviews are appreciated! Thanks!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything you may recognise. I might though, one day but- probably not.

One- Shot

August 27th, 1967

Paul's POV

Microphones, television cameras, photographers, press, and fans everywhere. There was no escaping it- I had to face them.

"Paul, tell me your feelings on Brian's death!" One reporter asked, I ignored him and tried to get to my car but he pressed on. "How is it affecting the other's?" I advanced forward but a steady hand pushed me back. "I know you're upset, but will you please answer a few questions?" I sighed and looked down, I ran my hand through my hair and muttered a small "fine." He smiled a large, happy grin. I wanted to smack it off his stupid face- how could anyone be happy at a time like this? Everyone in the world should be depressed; it's Eppy we're talking about!

"When did you find out?" He asked.

"Um, earlier today. John called he found out from- erm well... I don't know but yeah..." I replied, trying to hold the tears back. Once they came I knew they wouldn't be leaving for a long time- like months, maybe even years.

"I see. And how do you feel about all of this?" God- is he fucking retarded? My friend just died, how do you think I feel? There's a god awful, shitty feeling- a dread in my heart.

"Um, well you know, sad. I'll miss him a lot. I know it's corny but he was a great guy, he did a lot off stuff for us. Without him I don't think there would've been a 'Beatles' or anything."

"Yes, hmm. I also hear he managed other groups, how do they feel about this?"

"Well, I'm sure they're pretty sad as well. Already I've gotten phone calls saying how important he was to so many people."

"Do you have any favourite memories that you'd like to share?"

"No actually. Everytime you were with Brian it was an adventure. I've got a lot of good memories with him- too many to share."

"What do you think made him such a good manager?"

"Well, he was very patient and just always there, you know? Erm- uh well he could put up with John so he's basically a saint in my eyes." I smiled a bit at the thought of John always annoying the hell out of the poor guy.

"Do you have any ideas as to what made him over-dose?"

"I don't think he did it purposely. He had a gambling problem and lately he had been pretty stressed out. He was just trying to get away for a bit, um- but ah... yeah."

"There was also a thing about him going to hell because of his homosexuality, do you agree with this?" Really? am I really being asked this?

"No, I think it's a bunch of you-know-what. He was one of the nicest people I know. Just because you don't do what other people do doesn't make you a bad person. I'm not really sure about heaven and hell and such- but if you do go somewhere when you die, I know he's going to the good part of it."

"How are the others handling this?"

"Well, George is really upset along with Ringo but I think John's doing the worst. It's a big loss for all of us- the whole world even. It's going to be really different without him- and probably a bit harder too."

"Alright Paul, thank you for your time." The reporter bid and gave me a small pat on the back. I flinched away. I don't want his fucking slimey hands on me.

I push and shove my way through the enormous sea of people, and hopping into my car I speed off. I arrive back at my home, the Asher's aren't here. I flop down on the couch and decide to put the telly on- although I soon regret it. Beatles manager Brian Epstein died to- flick Brian Epstein dies at- flick What will The Beatles do without their- flick. I shuffle through the channels in search of something decent to watch. All of the channels are filled with news stories on Brian's death. I can't even enjoy myself anymore, I just- hmm... I don't even know what to think. I just feel like a fucked up loner, there's a god awful, shitty feeling- a dread in my heart.

I slowly close my eyes, taking in the silence. And for the first time in years- I cried, and cried, and cried. I'm not sure how many tears I have but I'm pretty sure I'm pretty close to none by now. My heart that once beat warm and healthy shriveled up and turned black. It didn't feel anymore, I was sick of losing people, it was driving me crazy. Mum, John's mum, Stu, Brian. It stopped beating and it no longer gave off love but hate- for the reporters, the press, myself, and the world. Now, there will always be a god awful, shitty feeling- a dread in my heart.

Sorry for it's depressingness but I really liked this idea. I haven't really read anything about it, and I didn't fancy writing a romance story- although I'm sure I will. Anyways, I hope you liked it and don't forget to review! You can also PM me if you have any other one- shot ideas you would want me to write or write with me.