Too much in love

I sit on a maroon coloured couch that has caused my arse to go numb. I have been sitting here for over two hours now, desperately waiting for someone…. no,  not someone. 

One of them….. to notice me. I feel slightly drunk (well no shit, I stopped counting at five drinks) and I'm still stoned from a joint that was  passed around. 

"Where'd they go?!" a blond haired girl beside me asked angrily. 

"Huh?" I questioned blankly. 

"Where are they?! Do you see any of them?" she asked. I look around the room and sigh. 

"Nope." I said. The girl makes a face after I say this and pulls out a handkerchief. For a minute I thought she was going to burst out crying, but instead she just dabs at her sweaty cheeks. 

"This is the fourth time I've gotten in here." she said. She sounds like she's from New York or something. Her accent is definitely not familiar. 

"Oh really?"

"Yea. Tried New York twice, Washington once, and Miami once."

"Miami?!" I exclaim. Was she really that desperate?!

"Yup. All the times I've gotten overlooked. Looks like that's gonna happen again this time." she said with a sigh. 

"Well you could always try again!" I said as nicely as I could manage. I was to drunk and stoned to feel much right now. 

"Nah. These boys don't like girls like me. Look at all the broads they're dating. Beautiful woman…. You gotta mirror?" I nod and clumsily reach for my purse. I manage to shuffle through it and hand it to her. "I mean have you seen Jane Asher, or Patty Boyd? They're stunning!" she looked briefly at me "I'm surprised they didn't look at you, you're a pretty one!" I smiled at her. 

"Thanks." I said quietly. 

"No problem. You gotta name?" she asked. She quietly dabbed at her face while looking at my mirror. My name. Was I really too stoned to remember my name?! I quickly racked my drained brain and then found it (somehow).

"Clara." I squeaked.

"Cute name. I'm Millie." she closed my pocket mirror and handed it back to me. I put it back in my purse. Millie and I exchanged a few words before her eyes grew wide and she looked over my shoulder. She looked like Bambii in the headlights.

"What?" I asked. 

Oh my god… he's even prettier in real life…" she said quietly.

"Huh?!" I questioned loudly.

"Look…." she breathed. I turned around, and there, right behind me stood Paul fucking McCartney of The fucking Beatles. 

"Hullo luv." he said to me. I felt my eyes go big a little. 

"Hi." I said quietly. His puppy dog eyes looked down on me and I felt my heart beating in my ears, while my throat went dry, and my palms began to sweat. 

"Mind if I sit?" he asked. 

"Oh yes, of course." I said in a haze. He smiled and plopped down beside me. The noise from the busy hotel room seemed to fade out all of a sudden. Probably because one of the men I had swooned over for several months was sitting right beside me.

"And what's your name?" he asked. I found myself searching for my name again. 

"Erm.. uh… Clara." I said finally. He smiled and took a sip of his drink (which came from where?!) and looked at me, was it seductively?! Whatever it was, it was very attractive!