Love Is Strange - Ringo Starr Fan Fiction - Beatles Fan Fiction

Chapter Two - You Don't Own Me

"We'll give the girls about fifth-teen minutes or so of your time," Brian stated.

Ringo continued to read the article on The Beatles arrival to the States. He guessed from Brian's unpleasant tone that The Debutantes were an annoying last-minute addition to The Beatles morning schedule.

"How charitable of you," John replied sarcastically.

Ringo folded up the newspaper and tossed it onto the coffee table in front of him. He didn't have to look at John to know that his caustic friend was looking to have a row with Brian. He took a cursory glance around the room. It didn't appear that anyone was going to speak up to prevent John from giving Brian a hard time.

He mused to himself that it was a good thing the Maysles brothers and their cameras weren't there yet to document this moment. It was commonplace for John to needle Brian. Ringo impassively continued to watch them.

Brian's lips stretched into a thin tight smile. "Yes, well, we have interviews, photo opportunities, rehearsals, and not a great deal of time."

Ringo pulled out the lighter and pack of ciggies from the front pocket of his crisply pressed white button-down oxford shirt. He slipped a cigarette between his lips and lit it.

"So, why are we entertaining a visit with them?" John shot back.

His words were unnecessarily disdainful, and Ringo didn't understand where all the contempt was coming from. John's foul mood was making the atmosphere unpleasant.

Ringo spoke up. "Johnny B. Goode." He stated good-naturedly. He didn't want to start the day with a silly row over having the girls up to their suite. It appeared that his playful words had gotten through to John when his mate jokingly blew a raspberry at him.

John crooned off key. "Go Go Go, Johnny, go, go." 

Ringo chuckled around the cigarette pressed between his lips and clapped the beat to accompany his friend. 

John continued, "Go, Johnny, go, go. Go, Johnny, go, go. Go, Johnny, go, go. Johnny B. Goode -"

Paul spoke up. "That's not a lot of time."

"It's all we can afford to give them," Brian replied.

****

Charlie stared at the back of Howard's stout frame. He was leaning against the wall of the service elevator in front of her. 

Howard used his wrinkled white handkerchief to wipe the sweat from the back of his neck. 

It was embarrassing to Charlie how much he would sweat and soak right through the fabric of his wool suit.

The police officer escorting them spoke up. "Is he going to be alright?"

Charlie smirked. "He's fine. Howard's just a sweater." She cloyingly explained. She wanted to shame Howard for making her feel self-conscious that he was The Debutantes representation.

Howard patted his forehead with the handkerchief. "Just not use to -"

"Walking?" Charlie asked rudely. 

The officer chuckled and shook his head. 

She smiled to herself and looked over at Annette standing next to her. She assumed that she'd be just as amused as her or at least pretend she found it funny. Instead, Charlie felt that Annette was giving her a disapproving look. She looked away from her and stared at the back of Howard's balding head. She knew she wasn't being kind to Howard and that he didn't deserve to be made fun of by her.