Here Comes the Sun (A Beatles Fanfic)

Aspinal, bouncers, and boys

Martha's POV
Thank Christ! A parking space! I thought joyfully. I wheeled behind a small pub, about half a mile away from the Cavern Club and parked in literally the only available parking space for a mile (a mile that I was not willing to walk). After I pulled the keys out of the ignition and locked the car, I headed off down the street (I was really getting sick of that puny car...or maybe it was just the fact that I was annoyed with the lack of parking spaces in the area and I just took it our on the car). I looked at the sign of the pub I parked next to
Cavern Pub the sign read. Maybe I'll stop off for a drink after-
"Get out, you penniless drunk!" A bartender yelled as he threw a man out into the street, interrupting my thoughts. "Next time you come here, you'd better be prepared to pay! And next time you'd also better think before you try to drink and dash!" With that the bartender closed the door.
"How dare you mess with Neil Aspinal?!" the man slurred as he whacked the air. He wore a brown vest, stained with ale, over a green unbuttoned shirt, also bearing alcohol stains. He was unshaven and his hair was uncombed.
I stared at him, not sure what to think. He spun around, obviously noticing he wasn't alone. He leaned against the wall, trying (and failing, due to intoxication) to look smooth and classy. "Hey there." He said, with a catlike look in his eyes. I just stood there looking wide-eyed at the drunkard. "Wassamatter?" He slurred. "Speechless?"
"A little." I said, not taking my eyes off him.
"What's a bird like you walking around the streets alone, love?" He said as he walked a little closer to me. I cringed. I hated being called a bird. It was far too much of slang name. From what I'd heard, a bird didn't mean just any old girl that you'd meet every day, a bird was some brainless twit on the arm of some cheeky lad. And I did not wish to be associated with a name like that.
"For one thing," I said as I backed away a bit, "I'm not a bird and don't wish to be called that."
"Classy, eh? Bit high-matinecne huh? Bleh." He moved a bit too close for my liking.
"Doing anything?" He slurred.
"As a matter of fact, I'm going to a concert, which I'm rather late for and I only have one ticket, and I need to get moving." I said it a bit quickly, wanting to get away from this guy as fast as possible. Alcohol is a very dangerous thing.
"Oh thas what um supposed to be doin tunight." He said, seeming to get more drunken with every sentence. "Imma driver for a very famous band. The bugs or somethin'."
"The Beatles?" I suggested.
"Oh yeah! Thas it! Great grouppa guys. Mind if I come along?"
"You're supposed to be there already, why do you need to ask if you can come along?"
"I mean come along with you?"
"As I mentioned before I only have one ticket."
He scooted a bit closer and I could practically smell the alcohol on him. "I'm the driver. I could get you in for free!" He clumsily put his arm around me.
"Please get away from me." I whispered as I wiggled my way out of his arm.
"Come off it. Don't be such a stiff." He slurred as his arm began to move and found its way onto my waist.
No sooner had he done this, my reflexes instantly kicked in and the back of my hand sharply came in contact with his face and I stropped off down the avenue.
"Don't be such a stiff!" Aspinal yelled in the dirt. "You liked it!"
"I assure you!" I called back, not even bothering to look over my shoulder, "I did not!" As soon as I was sure I was far enough away from him that he couldn't find me (based on how drunk he was), I stopped to catch my breath and regain myself. In my small run-in with Aspinal, I'd accidentally gotten dirt all over my shoes and completely disheveled my hair. As I regained control of my frantic breathing, I calmly brushed off my blue leather shoes and combed my fingers through my hair and pulled it into a quick, tight side braid. By then, I was sure that I'd already missed half of the concert, most of it just trying to find a damn space. I looked down at my watch again. 7:25. Great. I thought. Ringo's probably going mad wondering where I am. And there's no way I'm getting a decent seat without pushing, standing on something or craning my neck, man I hate being short. I huffed and made my way to the door. In front was, to my surprise, no line. Just a very annoyed looking bouncer.
"Ahem," I said in the gentlest way I could muster (this guy had obviously seen a lot of screaming girls in his time and I didn't want to add to his annoyance. Just give him the ticket and barcode and go in)
"Can I help you?" He said, looking very miffed, like Christmas had just been canceled, I could practically read his thoughts: "Oh great, another? I thought my work was done for tonight!"
"I'd like to see the show." I said handing him the paper ticket and barcode, trying to balance my voice between cheerful and mellow. I know how much one person's good attitude can annoy you even more if you've had a bad day, especially if that person's attitude is insanely over the top and so cheerful you just want to spew (Looking at you, Alice).
He looked even more irked than before. "I can't accept this ticket. It's not legal."
"I know it's only a paper copy, but I also have the legal barcode." I said as I pointed to the barcode below the ticket.
"I still can't accept it, I don't know if the barcode is really legal or not."
Now I was getting as annoyed as he was. I really wanted to see the concert and I was missing it for the stupidest reasons. The annoying coworker, couldn't find a parking space, practically molested by a drunken limousine driver, and now stopped at the door because the legal barcode Ringo gave me wasn't legal enough. Wait, Ringo, the note, the signature! Oh Ringo I love you, mate.
As a final resort, I pulled out the original fax as well as the note with Ringo's signature (sent to my house by mail) and showed it too him.
"I swear, that's Ringo Starr's signature, he asked me to come. I'm his cousin, Martha. And that fax is from their manager, Brian Epstein. Please believe me." I asked.
The bouncer pulled out a sheet of paper, I could see because of the lamppost shining down over it that it had four signatures on it, obviously signatures from the boys, in case someone tried to get in with forgery. The bouncer looked it over carefully, switching his eyes back and forth from note to signature. Finally, he said, "Alright, this obviously wasn't forged and this note here says the barcode one hundred percent legal. Fine. Go on in."
It was clear he'd seen too many screaming girls that night that he'd just stopped caring. Either that, or he saw that my copy of Ringo's signature was legitimate and decided that the fact that I didn't have a signature that was forged was reason enough to let me in. As I descended the stairs down into the Cavern club, a huge feeling of relief washed over me. I was finally going downstairs to see The Beatles live, I was finally going to see Ringo after so long and I didn't have to deal with anymore shite that night except for finding a decent place to stand.
As I opened the door, I was greeted with a tidal wave of applause. Thankfully it was directed in the opposite direction of where I was standing. If it had been towards me, I probably would've gone deaf (how did those boys do it?). Being incredibly short, I couldn't see a thing on the stage. The lights blurred my vision and the shouting hurt my ears. And I couldn't see a single thing from where I was standing so I had to start pushing my was through the crowd until I got up to the front. Once I pushed my way to the front, I tried to a good look at the four boys standing onstage. The hazy lights blurred my vision, as if smoke was pouring from the lights. Several people where smoking cigarettes which made the place seem all the more crowded and suffocating. I struggled to see them through the smoke and the noise. The lights shined up onto four boys standing on the stage. Each wore a pair of black slacks, complete with a black tie, grey vest, and a crisp white shirt. They all looked rather young, in fact, I was pretty sure that Ringo was the oldest, at twenty-three. Speaking of Ringo, he was in the back, pounding on a set of drums, looking like he was having the time of his life. He looked exactly the same as he had a year ago. Same brown mop that would never be tamed with a comb, and even if he had managed to comb it, that tamed hairdo was long gone. He kept bobbing his head wildly, looking rather insane but also looking like he didn't care. He was drumming, his favorite activity, and that was his happy place. He had the same baby blue eyes, same large nose and the same dopy smile that he had when we were kids. For some reason, his face was always a consoling thought for me. If I ever had a bad day at school or work, I thought of his dopy grin and that always got me grinning too, or the way his blue eyes would light up whenever he laughed and that, in turn, set me laughing too.
I knew very well what Ringo looked like which is why I picked him out so easily, but I was rather curious about the other three gents on the stage.
On the far right (Ringo's right not mine...so my left) was a rather lanky looking guy. His light brown hair was what stood out the most about him, seeing as his cropped and choppy hair hung loosely in his face, hiding his light brown eyes, which were rather small and squinty, probably because of the lights. His nose was long and a bit large as well (but not nearly as large as Ringo's) and his small thin mouth was always curved into a smile. To the left of him, doing backup vocals with another gent, was a man with dark brow hair, almost black, also, completely uncombed. His face was rather thin, as well as his brown eyes, leading to a very long chin and thin lips, giving his a very devilish appearance. Next to him was probably the best looking of all. For one thing, he was the only one with his hair combed. His cheeks were just a little bit pudgy making his face seem a bit round, adding a focal balance, colliding with the thin face and chin. His thick brown hair was pulled out of his face so I could perfectly see his round, kind, dark brown eyes. Lastly was his mouth. His lips were thin and pink and they were curved into a cocky grin, also giving him a bit of a devil-like look, but not the standard devil. More like "I will charm your socks off and I won't stop there."
But the part of them that really set them apart was their unique voices. Of course I knew Ringo's voice, very bold and low, always getting the alto harmonies without a second thought. His voice went very well with the loud, bold drum, always proving to be a vocal equivalent. Brown hair (I didn't know any of their names yet! I'd only heard about three of their songs!), who was singing lead vocals, had a bit of a rough voice, but only when he sung really loud, like he was now. It almost sounded like he was straining to make his voice louder. Durning the rather quiet parts of the song, his voice was very smooth and buttery to the ears, very soft, but not so soft I couldn't hear him. It was the perfect balance. Over towards the left, Devil-eyes and Charm-your-socks-off were so engaged in their harmony, I couldn't tell whose voice was whose. I could just barely make out the sound coming from Devil-eyes's mouth. It was also very smooth in sound, but it wasn't as buttery as Brown hair's. It was much firmer, a bit more confident (which is rather ironic, seeing as he was constantly looking around the stage and the audience as if he was nervous), and it mixed very well with Charm-your-socks-off's voice, so well that the harmony practically melded together and I could barely make out the two. I could only hear Devil-eyes because he was singing louder than Charm-your-socks-off.
While I was studying the boys, I hadn't payed the slightest attention to the actual song (sung by Brown hair) and the fact that it had just ended.
Ringo pounded on the drum four times, Devil-eyes played a sharp cord, and the four boys bowed. The crowd went wild, mostly girls just screaming their heads off, and several lads whooped, as if those boys were their best mates, while I just stood there up front awkwardly, not knowing what to do. I'd hadn't heard a bit of the song, Twist and Shout, except for the ending because I was too busy studying them (I prided myself on my eye for details) and I didn't really focus on the words...or the music...or really the song in general. So the sudden screaming kinda startled me. So there I stood, unsure of what I was supposed to do (This was my first outing as you could most likely guess) so I started politely clapping.
I must've done something wrong because for some reason, Charm-your-socks-off wouldn't stop staring at me, and he didn't look all that happy. But then he stood up front of the stage and looked out all over the audience. "Alright!" he said in an overly-confident voice. "How many of you know this next song?" he asked it under the pretense that we could read his mind and knew exactly which song he was about to sing. But apparently, the rest of the audience thought that as well, seeing as every single person in the room raised their hands... except me. It seemed like I was the only person in the world who didn't know every single lyric to every single Beatles song. Needless to say, I was still the only one who wasn't raising my hand, which was hanging awkwardly and uselessly at my side while my other hand tugged my elbow. Charm-your-socks-off seemed to take notice of this, seeing as he stared at me for ten solid seconds, seeming a little bit irked at the fact that I didn't know his song. He rolled his eyes for a second, trying desperately to make sure the rest of the audience didn't see, and said, "Alright, well, we're gonna need you to sing along with us!" The audience went wild again. All of a sudden, I felt like I was melting into the floor or the wall, like I was the only one who wasn't exciting enough to be there, and I was starting to regret coming to this concert.
Charm-your-socks-off nodded to the other boys on the stage and said, "1,2,3,4!"
Then Devil-eyes started playing a fast playing riff on his electric guitar while Charm-your-socks-off played bass and Brown hair did backup guitar, playing a harmony to Devil-eyes. Ringo played an up-tempo beat on his drums, his head still bobbing with joy. Charm-your-socks-off stepped up to the mic and opened his mouth. What happened next was vocal gold.

Hey Wafflebunnies!
Sorry I've been a bit stingy on updates, I've had a CA-RAAAAAAZY summer. I went to Germany and Austria on a school trip and got a ring and a necklace with a charm that looks like a treble clef from the svarofski crystal factory and we took the sound of music tour in Salzburg and it was so much fun. And I'm also working at a summer camp called CKC *Creative Kids Camp* and the director Chris Cherry is the nicest guy in the world. I'm also doing a pageant, the Miss Greenbelt Scholarship pageant and I'm super excited about that.
Also it turns out my bf was a guilt tripping manipulator who made things painful for the both of us just because I was honest about something, so I'm currently single (Know anybody?)
And you're probably wondering if I'm working during the day why I'd be doing an update if I'm so busy. Well raise your hand if you've ever sprained you ankle while playing manhunt...*raises hand*
So my parents and I were in the ER until 4 in the morning and honestly I'm a bit of a crazy Maeve right now bc I've been on the couch all day.
Anyway this author's not is long af
Love you guys
~Maeve