Once upon a Beatle {Beatle one shots}

one-shot #9: Karaoke (Ringo, YAY)

A/N: The beginning sounds like “Let It Be Tonight Only” but it will get different promise. My writing isn’t as bad in this beginning. J

I was excited. Very, very excited. I honestly couldn’t put it into words. But tonight, I was going to be happy. Why? Because I was going out with my Richard. My Ringo.  My closest friend. My more then friends friend. My boyfriend.

Meeting him was something I couldn’t forget, and I guess he didn’t forget me. He kept my number, and he remembered my name.

He said that where we would go is a surprise but it’s nowhere too fancy. So, since he said it wasn’t fancy, I let myself be me. I wore a warm knit sweater that went past my wrists, some nice dress jeans, and flats. My style? Somewhat, plain. I wasn’t the girl that wore the stilettos that guaranteed foot problems and the dress that basically was just paint since it was so tight; no, I never wore such thing, and I don’t plan to. I plan to be me, and if someone has a problem with it, then they let him or her have a problem, but they don’t need to be so nosy about my life. Besides, I don’t usually care for the ‘three’s a crowd.’ I prefer my life to be quite and peaceful. Maybe that’s why I’m an author. Either way, it just worked with me. I look like someone who does read- the glasses, the shyness, the loose ponytail. But I didn’t mind. Like I said, I was me, and I’m not changing.

So, as I was waiting, I decided to just look out the window. No, I wasn’t specifically waiting for him to show up so I could be right at the door, but I like the weather now. It’s not pouring rain out, but its not sunny and bright either. It’s actually just that time where the rain is gone and everything is still wet from raindrops but it’s slowly healing. I liked this weather; it showed a time of no emotion: when you’re in your happiest mood, you go down till there isn’t anything, and after you cry, you just lie there with no emotion. Even though it can be depressing, for me it’s quite calm. I’m not saying I cry all day, but I’m saying is the peace no emotion gives you is calming.

I suddenly heard my doorbell ring. I quickly raised my head, causing me to hit the window. “Ow!” I moved my head out, grabbed my bag, and ran downstairs. I quickly threw open the door to see…. The mailman. I groaned and looked at him. “What do you want,” I asked annoyed. “I was just going to give you this package!” He sounded scared and confused at my anger. “Yeah, thanks,” I mumbled, as I shut the door in his face and sat on the couch. “Why is it peasants have to come to my door,” I mumbled to myself as I opened the package. I looked up for a moment, realizing I sounded old and cranky. I shrugged it off and opened the package. “Ah, fuck everything,” I mumbled to myself. All it was was a clipboard with a survey on it. Now why would someone put this survey in a package?

I heard the door knock and walked over, expecting another mail man, but finally found him. “Hi Richard,” I said, putting a genuine smile on my face. “Hello Sara, ready?” I nodded and shut the door behind me. Richard took my hand and started to walk me down the road. “Where are we going,” I asked curiously. He looked at me and smiled. “Do you always have to know everything?” I tried to smile, but I felt a little confused at his comment. “Why do you say I have to know everything,” I asked. “Well, you always ask questions. It’s like you don’t want any surprises to happen,” he explained. I shrugged. “I just like to be prepared.”

He then turned and I followed. “Here we are,” he said excitedly. We were standing in front of a bar. “It’s karaoke night,” he told me before walking up to the door and pulling it open. The only thing that went through my mind is the fact I couldn’t sing. “I really can’t sing Richard,” I said nervously. “It’s okay, either can I. But we have each other, that’s what’s important. I walked in the door and looked around. There were tons of people, all over the place. I felt myself getting nervous and worried; I wasn’t much of a social person, so this isn’t my place. I pushed my glasses up and sighed. I then felt a tickling on my hand. I was about to pull away but the tingling was actually Richard’s hand, holding mine for comfort. I smiled softly, and Richard led me over to the bar. We sat down on two stools and a bar tender came over. “What do you two want today,” he asked in a monotone voice, which slightly pressed on my nerves. “I just want water,” I said, imitating the bartender’s monotone voice, which didn’t really settle with him. Richard chuckled under his breath and the bartender sighed. “What about you,” he spoke to Richard, in the same voice. “I just want water,” he mimicked me. He sighed again and went over to get them.