Love, Love Me Do (Beatles story)

Chapter Seven - Radio Interview

The very next day I was nearly killed as I left the apartment. The girls and paparazzi that normally stalked the boys apartment sprang a little (huge) attack on me. There were a group of my standing directly outside the front door. I was attacked the moment they saw me, to make matters worse George was holding my hand so the girls were worse than they normally would of been if they saw me with the lads. I was convinced that my curls would never be quite the same again, man did that hurt though! George pulled a particularly violent one, who was doing her best to take a lump out of me, back as she bared her teeth and spat. I dunno, she must have thought she was a dog with rabies or something. It's crazy, the things these girls would do just because they had a crush on someone.

"Guys," I panted, once we were safely in the car after being hounded by paparazzi and chased by more fan.

"Yes, Char?" Paul asked, appearing relaxed as though nothing out of the usual had happened, in fact all of the boys (excluding Ringo, who had been jumped by a fan that had attempted to rape him and was now groaning in pain and rubbing his back) appeared to be unruffled and didn't appear to be unsurprised by this sudden attack from the fans.

"Your fans are so fucking violent," I winced as I reached up to feel the damage that had been done to my hair.

"We know that, love," George assured me, gently squeezing my hand.

"So, I guess you're used to this?" I asked no one in particular.

"Yes and no," John chose this moment to speak, he was sitting across from George, Ringo and I, left ankle propped up on his knee. "They're normally violent, but not that violent. They normally attack us too, Ringo's proof of that. They do normally hate seeing us with girls, but they never act so violently towards them."

I frowned at this, not feeling very reassured at all. "Care to explain what happened back there, then?"

John smirked before shrugging, but he did look puzzled all the same. "Must of caught them on a bad day."

Ringo groaned loudly, giving his back a rub, "I'll say," he complained.

I didn't like seeing Ringo in pain, he reminded me of a teddy bear, I turned around and began to massage his back for him.

"Hey," George whined playfully. "You're meant to be doing that for me not Ringo."

Ringo moaned, not from pain this time, but from pleasure (I've said it before, looks like I'm saying it again, but you people seriously need to get your mind out of the gutter!). "I think I'll keep this one, Georgie."

George poked his tongue out at Ringo, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulled me to his chest, his eyes smoldering as he gazed down at me. "Nope Rings, this one's mine," he smirked.

I rolled my eyes, although I was inwardly smiling at George's possesiveness, it was cute. "Ringo, I'm not yours and George," I started turning around so I could make eye contact with a smug looking George.

"Yes love?" He asked in a sing-song voice.

"Whoever said I was yours in the first place?"

"Oooh mate, you've just been BURNED!" John laughed, Paul giigled and Ringo smirked at George's rejection.

George appeared to be momentarily stumped before breaking into a wide grin, he pulled me around to face him properly, he leaned down to press his li/ps to mine. "I did," he stated simly as he came back up, then he leaned back down to kiss me again.

"Save some action for the bedroom, Georgie, would you?" John laughed, causing Paul to giggle along with him, even Ringo briefly chuckled.

I immediately turned red at John's suggestive comment, although I liked George a lot, we'd still only know each other for three days, technically he hadn't introduced himself as George Harrison, but as Elvis Presley when we'd first met so that wasn't counted, we obviously hadn't done anything since the lads had interrupted us yesterday and I wasn't going to. I wasn't the sort of girl who slept around. . . Oh alright, I admit it, I'm still a virgin. Happy?