22 June 1962.
PAUL: It’s Friday, which in turn means we have a set tonight. Positively thrilling, it is. Oh well. I can survive it.
Allie has been staying at my apartment every night this week. I love having her with me at all times. It’s not just the sex, either (though that part is pretty much phenomenal), it’s mainly just her presence. I love being able to cuddle in bed with her in the early morning hours when we know we should be sleeping but are just too exhilarated to think about such a boring activity. I love hearing her call my name, her sweet laughter, the feeling of her arms around me and the weight of her head against my shoulder. I love every single thing about her, and not having her stuck to my side nonstop drives me insane.
“At least we have tomorrow off,” John said as he tuned his guitar. “Such a rare but amazing thing! I have almost forgotten what being off on Saturday is like.”
“I know, right?” George said from his chair in the corner, where he sat eating fish and chips as always (I’ve always marveled at how George stays so trim yet seems to be eating in a never-ending cycle). “I’ll just lay around the house, most likely. Unless everyone wants to go out.”
“I’m going down to London with my mother tomorrow, count me out,” Ringo said. “I have to accompany her shopping. My father has the flu.”
“Have fun with that!” said John. “Sounds dismal!”
“What about you, Paul?” asked George. “You want to go do something with me and John?”
“I might,” I said absently. I wasn’t really listening. I was watching the door instead, waiting for Allie to come waltzing through it. She went home to do her laundry and said she’d meet me here around two. It was a quarter to two and I was getting anxious waiting to see her.
“You’re distracted,” George observed. “I wonder why…”
“He’s lovesick, Geo, don’t you know?” John replied. “Just look at him. You can read it on his face.”
I could feel myself blushing. “Oh, stop it, guys!” I exclaimed. “Really!”
The door swung open, and I looked up to see Allie walk in with two other people following behind her. “I’m here!” she called out. “Apparently this guy behind me knows all of you.”
I felt my mouth fall open in shock. Pete Best. Our ex-drummer, the one who was tossed to the side for Ringo. I never thought I’d run into him anytime soon. He had a girl with him, too- a very pretty petite one with long brown hair and lovely grey eyes. She was dressed impeccably, too. I didn’t know her but from the looks of it, our former bandmate had a girl.
John spoke first. “Hi, Pete,” he said flatly. I could tell he was not happy to see Pete here. “How are you? What brings you here today?”
“I haven’t been to the club since I got the boot, thought I’d come for nostalgia’s sake. Plus I want to hear the set and find out what makes Ringo better than me. Megan hasn’t heard you play either.”
“Megan?” George questioned. “You mean this lovely bird hanging off your arm?”
“Oh, indeed. Sorry. This is Megan, my fiancée.” The girl nodded at us, and I caught a glimpse of a gigantic diamond on her left hand. “Megan, the former bandmates. John, Paul, and George. And who’s this lady who came in ahead of me?”
“That’s my girl, Alexandra. We call her Allie though.” I slipped an arm protectively around Allie’s waist. “It’s good to meet you, Megan.”
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No More Lonely Nights - A Fan FictionFanfiction
1962. Liverpool, England. Rock and roll music is on the horizon, and in an intimate blues club in the heart of Merseyside, a foursome by the name of the Beatles is about to emerge as the greatest music phenomenon the world has ever seen. American te...