Here Comes the Sun (A Beatles Fanfic)

Here We Go

Martha's POV
He smiled and winked at me. Did he just...am I imagining things? Wait a sec...am I blushing? Oh boy, Alice is REALLY gonna scream when she hears this! I thought frantically. One of the effing Beatles just smiled and winked directly at me. It was one of the most exhilarating thoughts in the world. I tried to keep myself contained, because I didn't want to add to the noise in the room, I mean, I was pretty sure the boys were used to it, but I didn't want to make it more difficult than it already was.
    All too soon, that wonderful song was over, and it was the last song of the concert, so that meant (aside from the loudest cheering and screaming I'd ever heard in my life) that the concert was over and I had to go back to my boring life. And I didn't think I was ready to go back yet.
    The boys looked out over the audience and bowed all together, towards the horde of screaming girls. I clapped as hard as my hands would permit but Charm-your socks off didn't look at me for the rest of the evening.

* * * *

    As I pushed my way out of the concert hall, someone called out my name.
"Martha! Martha Starkey!"
I turned sharply to see an older looking man, dressed in a full tux, running frantically towards me. His face was rather round and his reddish brown hair was thinning.
"Brian Epstein?" I asked on a hunch. He nodded. I gave him a small grin.
"Glad to see you got the fax, and that barcode was enough to get you inside."
I didn't really want to tell him that it wasn't really the barcode but the signature that got me in, so I just nodded. "Ready to meet the guys?"
"Wait what?" I asked quizzically.
"I thought I mentioned that in the fax. Oh well, Ringo is ecstatic to see you again, the other boys are rather excited to meet you too." He said as he took hold of my sleeve and lead me back towards the stage.
    As soon as one of the girls saw that I was not only being lead onto the stage where the band was just a moment ago, but I was also being lead backstage and by the manager of the Beatles no doubt, they all saw and instantly ran at us, trying to get in on my luck as well. Several of them tried to get to me and Mr. Epstein and a few of them succeeded and even tried to get up onto the stage and to the back room. Unfortunately for them, there were several burly looking guards by the stage and they were instantly dragged back out into the audience. By the time we got up to the stage, Mr. Epstein had lost his tie and my hair was even worse than it was after my run-in with Aspinal and one of them had tugged on the sleeve of my sweater a bit too hard, completely pulling it off. So now I was annoyed, messy and I was missing one of my sweater sleeves. This night was taking a slight downward spiral.
Brian lead me down a long hallway, ending in a door with a large star on it and knocked sharply four times.
"Oi!" said an annoyed voice from the inside. "We ain't ready yet!"
"All you need to do is put on a ruddy shirt, which will take all of five seconds. Stop being such a drama queen."
I heard a few scuffles from the inside and then a sharp, "Hey! That's not funny, give it back!"
"Uh oh," said another voice, rather cockily. "Now I guess you'll have to show up to the post-show-manager-rant without a shirt on."
"Sod off, John!"
"Make me, George!"
I couldn't really tell, but it sounded like they started roughhousing, all because John stole George's shirt. The other two voices were laughing like they were crazy and I'm pretty sure one of them fell over as well.
"They're like this all the time." Brain reassured as he shook his head. "You learn to get used to it, trust me." He rapped on the door four more times before saying, "It's not just me out here! So unless you want to make a horrid first impression, John, I suggest you give George back his shirt and open the door."
There was a bit of grumbling and shuffling from the inside as George frantically put on his stolen shirt and one of the other boys came to the door.
    As soon as the handle clicked, I was faced with the dopey grin and blue eyes of my cousin, the one person I'd wanted to see all night.
"Martha!" He practically squealed as he pulled me into a bone crushing hug. When he pulled away and looked me over and suddenly laughed. "What in the world happened to you?" He asked.
I looked down at my disheveled braid and ripped sweater and said, "You would not believe what I've been through tonight."
    Ringo pulled me inside and I practically froze in a starstruck daze when I saw the three other boys. They had all changed into street clothes (well, just got rid of the shirts, vests and ties, they kept the black pants) and looked almost like normal people.
"Ringo." Charm-your-socks-off commented snidely. "We told you. First rule of fame; Just because you have fans, it doesn't mean that you can invite them backstage. Now if you'll just be a dear and tell your fangirl to leave?" I looked down at myself. Even though I did look rather crazy, hair in a rats nest and missing a sleeve, I was still very irked that I was thought to be some mental fan who bribed her way back here.
"She's not some crazy fan!" Ringo snapped, feeling like Charm-your-socks-off had just insulted me (Ringo was a bit overprotective at times). He regained himself and then jauntily said "Boys, this is my cousin, Martha. She was my best mate growing up. Martha, these are the greatest boys you could ever meet." He pointed at brown hair, "John Lennon," then Devil eyes, "George Harrison," and finally Charm-your-socks-off, "and Paul McCartney." I was blushing with embarrassment and didn't really know what to say. I mean, what do you do when you suddenly meet three of the most wanted guys in England? Hell, all the world? And what do you do when you look like absolute shite, especially when they were used to seeing flawless chorus girls, or at least fans who looked at least a bit better than I did?
     The boys stared at me awkwardly, expecting me to do something. Say something, you numptey! I thought angrily to myself.
"Umm...hello." I said awkwardly. The boys snickered a little. I sound like a complete twonk! I thought. "Umm..." another wave of embarrassing shyness crept over me.
"You boys sounded fantastic tonight." I complimented. Devil eyes...pardon me, George sat up from the mirror he was leaning against and looked me over.
"I see you had a bit of a run-in with our fans."
I let out a relieved huff. At least they were trying to keep up a conversation, which I was pitifully contributing too.
"Oh jeez." I said tiredly. "That was a bit of a disaster. And please trust me when I say that the sweater didn't come like this." The boys chuckled a little bit...Well, except for Charm-your-Paul-off... I mean, Paul-your-socks-off...I mean...DAMMIT! Paul. All the boys chuckled except for Paul, who wouldn't stop staring at me like I'd just murdered somebody.
"Is Paul alright?" I whispered to Ringo.
"What? Ol' Paulie?" John said standing up and roughly tousling Paul's hair. "He's just a bit miffed because some bird in the audience wouldn't scream like a crazy person at him. She apparently just clapped like any normal person would at a normal demonstration. And she apparently didn't know his song."
"Though it's kinda his own fault for being so cocky about it." Said George. "I told you, Paul, there is bound to be at least one person in England that hasn't heard our music and I think you've found them."
Paul glared at me and I looked at the ground. It was very clear that I was that one person and Paul was just too polite to rat me out in front of his friends. Now I just felt bad but also a bit irked at Paul. So it was a crime not to scream for him? I understand it was a bit rude, but that still doesn't make it justifiable to pout like a toddler. If I did not wish to scream until my larynx burst, that was my decision.
    Ringo, obviously sensing the tension between Paul and myself, quickly added, "Martha is actually quite good at the drums."
John stood up and looked me over. "Really? You didn't tell us you had a musical relative." he chided.
"Yep." Ringo added pridefully. "And she can play piano."
"And violin." I added shyly.
"Did I mention she can sing too? I've heard her. Sounds like an angel." Ringo said, beaming.
"Ringo, please don't do this." I begged, trying to sound playful. I'd already been through enough tonight. I didn't need to make a complete fool of myself in front of the bloody Beatles.
"We still have our instruments out on that stage if you want to show us something." George suggested.
I glanced at Ringo, waiting for his feedback. He nodded and winked. "S-sure." I stuttered.
The boys practically galloped down the hallway and out to the stage as I shyly toddled behind. By the time I got out to the stage, John had already pulled out his electric guitar and was hooking it up and Ringo was pulling out a pair of drumsticks. I looked out into the empty audience, imagining the seats filled with screaming fans, expecting you to not screw up once. The anxiety of just imagining the pressure of those fans made my knees nearly buckle and I could feel myself going rather pale. Am I really doing this? I thought. I must've been going crazy. I'd never performed for anyone but Ringo, who was a little too generous about giving out compliments. Ringo handed the sticks to me as John played a warmup riff. I'm really doing this. I thought.
"Know any of our songs?" John asked, trying to hide that he was pridefully beaming.
"A few..." I whispered.
"Which ones?"George asked, leaning on the side of the stage.
"Um..." I stammered, "A Hard Day's Night, Twist and Shout, and I Want to Hold Your Hand."
"Hard Day's Night is difficult enough." Paul said quietly.
"Why not?" John said giddily.
Oh boy. I thought nervously.
Paul, George and Ringo sat in the audience staring hopefully at me, hoping to hear me sing as well as play the drums. I shot Ringo an "I hate you" look and nodded at John, who started playing the opening for Hard Days Night. Alright, I thought. Here we go
My hands started flying wildly, banging on the drums in the correct order, making a beat for the song, keeping the rhythm in my wrists, the way Ringo showed me. I looked up at Ringo, who gave me a thumbs up. I took a deep breath. I guess I'm doing this

Hey Wafflebunnies! So sorry that I haven't updated for a few months, it's been REALLY crazy. School and registration and school and rehearsals have been kicking my ass and since I'm a junior and it's second semester, you can bet that college counseling has been jumping all over me. But luckily I have all my books that I got for Christmas to help me through everything. So far I'm about 3/4 done with Paper Towns and I LOVE it!
So talk to me, I'm pretty lonely.
Love you guys!
~Maeve