It’s a grey Wednesday morning in Liverpool 1956, and the school corridors are already noisy with the usual chaos—shouting, locker doors slamming, the scrape of shoes on worn floor tiles.

John Lennon is leaning against a wall near the end of the corridor, half listening to a conversation he’s not really part of. His school tie is slightly loosened, and his expression suggests he’d rather be anywhere else.

A few steps away, members of The Quarrymen are just being ordinary schoolboys for once. Rod is arguing about a football match from the weekend. Pete is flipping through a worn exercise book he probably hasn’t finished. Someone else is trying to balance a pen on the edge of a radiator just to see how long it takes to fall.

Someone starts complaining about school rules. Someone else is imitating a strict teacher, exaggerated and theatrical. That gets a reaction, and soon the group is half-laughing, half-arguing about who gets into the most trouble.