⇾ 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈

Chapter Sixteen: Epstein's a Pretty Bird

"Sounds fascinating, John," George said.

"But," I said, looking at my watch. "We should really be going. We've got thirty minutes."

"Where's Ringo?" asked Paul as he put on his suit jacket and came towards the door.

"Went with Maureen last night," said George. "He said he'll meet us there."

There was a small group of people gathered outside of the building. None of the boys seemed to be phased by it. I wasn't surprised, but the yelling definitely bothered me. I was walking closest to the wall so I was hidden from the small crowd below. John kept his hand tightly around my arm.

The three boys waved enthusiastically to the crowd below. Was I intimidated of the girls chanting John's name up at him? No—well—no, I wasn't.

Sure I knew that John could leave me for practically any girl in the world that he could possibly want, but it seemed I'd been around for so long that it seemed unlikely that something like that would happen now. It probably would have happened already if that was the case. Besides, that was the least of my worries at this point. We were now getting ready to start looking for houses, real houses. Now, that is what I call adulting. I was quite proud of us, frankly.

"You okay down there?" asked John as we all filed into the elevator. The yelling became muffled and slowly faded away.

I nodded, fighting to soothe my shaking hands. "I'm fine," I said.

"You'd be a terrible celebrity," quipped Paul, leaning against the wall of the elevator.

I glared at him. "Clearly," I replied, looking at my feet. "It's the last thing I want anyways."

"What about it bothers you, anyways?" Paul asked and I looked up, just in time to see John give Paul a warning glare. Paul shrugged.

"Paul—," began John, but I cut him off.

"It's just all the yelling," I said. "It's just too much going on around me. It overwhelms me," I grumbled. "You'd think it'd be better by now."

Paul shrugged. "I don't think things like that ever get better," he said, putting his hands in his pockets.

"It's like nerves, y'know," added George.

"Nerves never go away no matter how many times you put them to the test," finished John. They all nodded in unison. It was as if the three could speak telepathically.

"You've got a fair point," I responded. The elevator dinged and opened. We all filed out. Most of the group that had been gathered a moment ago was gone now. Only three girls remained. When they spotted the boys, they smiled widely. They didn't scream and lunge at them. They just came up and extended a photo each with shaky hands.

"Can we—uh—have an autograph?" The one on the far left asked. I probably looked crazy. I was trying to hide myself behind John. John nodded and took one of the girls photos. Paul and George followed in suit, signing them and passing them around so all three had signed each.

"I left a little note on the bottom," quipped John. "It's sending my apologies. Ringo's not here. He got caught up somewhere last night."

The girls laughed. "Thank you so much," they all said in unison. Unfortunately, they caught a glimpse of me trying to not be seen. They smiled at me and I had to plaster a smile on my face to hide my nerves.

"You're so pretty," one of them said happily.

I felt myself turn pink. "Thank you," I replied.

John made the bold move to put his arm around my waist. "Isn't she?" he asked, grinning down at me dopily.

"That's our Epstein," said Paul, ruffling my hair like I was a dog. "She's a pretty bird."

"Epstein?" asked one of the girls skeptically. "Like Bri—?"

"Fuck," muttered Paul. "Wasn't supposed to say that?"

I shook my head at him.

"We won't tell," said the first girl who'd spoken earlier.

The attention was all on me now. I couldn't find the words to speak.

"Well, we've got to be on our way," said George to break the silence.

"Thanks again, for the autographs," the girls called as they turned to leave.

"Donna's got a little fan!" John bantered when we'd gotten into the car. He took my hands in his and clutched them tightly until they'd finally stopped shaking.

"Aww," cooed Paul sarcastically from the back seat. "She's flustered."

"Shut up, Paul," I said as I put my hands to the steering wheel so I could pull out of the parking lot.