“As a matter of fact,” the curly-haired brunette says, “we’re waiting for you.” She gives him the once-over. “It wasn’t worth it.”

Mark is genuinely stung by the insult. He shows it, too—it’s important to display the psychic wound. Then, when the aggressor reveals vulnerability, brought on by innate niceness and strong desire to avoid appearing rude—overpower her.

He reaches for the gun.

“I was only teasing you,” the brunette says and smiles. She offers her hand.

Mark releases his grip on the revolver, shakes her hand, and introduces himself.

“I’m Jude Stein,” she says. “This is my friend Jeri Moll.”

“Hey Jude, don’t make it bad,” Mark sings. He chuckles. “I bet nobody ever said that to you before.”

Jeri Moll makes a groaning sound.

Mark knows she’s thinking he’s just like any other guy. I’m not. She’ll see.

He’ll play their game—for now. These two clearly have a sense of entitlement. They think their proximity to the Dakota makes them the most knowledgeable of all Lennon fans. The most special.

“I heard John Lennon lives here,” he says, all innocence. “I was hoping to get his autograph. Is he in town?”

“You can be sure of one thing,” Jude replies. “John Lennon is somewhere in New York City.”

His heart surges with joy. His smile is genuine.

Mark tells them he’s flown from Hawaii for a chance to meet his idol.

He gauges their reaction. They’re falling for his normal act.

He gets the women to open up to him some more. They’re both in their late twenties, and they tell him that for the past five years they’ve come here almost every single night to try to talk to John and Yoko.

“We’re permanent fixtures here,” Jude says. “And John and Yoko know us well.”

“Really well,” Jeri Moll adds. “We’re like family.”

Bullshit, Mark wants to scream. Lennon doesn’t care about his fans—he lies to them.

“Back in October,” Jude says, “we were waiting out here with birthday gifts for John and Sean. Yoko saw us, and when we told her about the presents? She invited us up.”

Jeri Moll squeals with excitement. “To their apartment!”

“I mean, we were shocked. I’ve never been more shocked in my entire life.”

You will be, Mark thinks, smiling.

“Yoko called Sean over,” Jude says, “and after we gave him the present, she invited us for tea, in their dining room. Can you believe it?”

You’re so blind. So blind and stupid and mindless. Lennon is not Jesus, and I’m going to prove it to you.

“That’s…wow,” Mark says, putting on a face of bewilderment and wonder, like a child who has been invited inside Santa’s secret workshop. “That is so amazing.”