With The Beatles

Take 30

RINGO's P.O.V.

Sitting patiently in front of the police officer, I tapped my fingers on the desk as if playing the drums to a song in mind. Just to lighten up the atmosphere and so I didn't have to engage in a conversation with the scary man.

The minute we heard the sound of the metal doors opening, I immediately stood up to welcome the man to his freedom.

"Glad to have you back, mate." I pat him on the back as soon as they removed his handcuffs.

T'Challa laughed at the corny remark, "I just came out of a stinky room and got rid of these chains. No big deal, it's part of life."

We both shared fits of laughter till the police officer with the same mustache cleared his throat to get our attention, "Miss Odinson wants you to sign this deal, Jason Castillo. As proof that you solemnly swear not to steal stuff from people anymore. It's also an order from the highest court of Eroda so you could be a hundred percent clear of charges after this."

"Yes, sir."

"And you, big-nose," The police officer scrambled through the papers before handing them to me, "Must sign this form as your agreement for being one of the contributors to Miss Odinson's charity project." 

I nodded and grabbed a pen from my pocket.

"Are you sure this is your real name, big-nose?" The pen stopped midway to its direction when the officer eyed me suspiciously.

Hearing this, I realized that I used my stage name when making this business agreement. I did the same with our employee forms at D'Oldies but that was an honest mistake and there's no way we're going to change it or the club manager would find us odd and dodgy.

So I decided to fake my signature every time even though it wouldn't help that factor the very least. I could already imagine Jude and the boys face palm at my idiocy, especially now.

Nervously, I replied, "Yes, officer." What else is there to do, anyway. It's not even my real name.

He rubbed his chin observing me, "Doesn't that make you sound like a drummer from a specific rock band from the 60's or something?" I swallowed hard. Jesus, help me.

"I-It was my mother who named me. S-She's a fan, you see."

"I'm a huge Beatles fan myself." The officer crossed his arms and mentioning the name of that band just made my stomach churn. "I can't help but notice you look exactly like one of them. You know, the one with the big nose."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about." I immediately avoided eye contact the moment I was done signing the paper. "But who was your favourite Beatle?"

Screw me and my dumb way of cracking conversations.

But the police officer seemed to be amused at the question, "I think all of them are likable. But my daughter has some weird crush on the drummer I told ye."

A sneaky grin crossed my face immediately. "Any favourite song?"

He thought for a second before saying, "I guess that song that says, I get by with a little help from my friends."

We both flashed a smile at each other with reconciliation to our topic but deep inside I have no idea what that song is suppose to exist for.

Was that song about drugs or anything?

After signing a lot papers, especially T'Challa, the police finally let us go.

Then it was as if nothing happened.