RINGO's P.O.V.
After my encounter with the thief at the 7-11 platform, I decided to go back to him as soon as Jude leaves for school.
Don't get the wrong idea, this'll be my first time to leave alone during daytime. It's George and John who does the most exploring whilst Paul has his own way of discovering things on that big, coloured television machine.
As I arrived at the said convenience store, I quickly headed to the platform that leads to an empty alley. Suddenly remembering the moment my face fell flat on this ground, the platform explains how I felt the sudden change in land.
There were also no streetlights in the alley, no wonder it was so dark when we ran through here.
"So you came back huh?" The raspy voice came. "Didn't I tell you that you wouldn't want to cross paths with me again?" Behold was the man, leaning against the wall, still wearing the clothes I saw him from earlier this morning.
Looks like someone thinks he's scary. Not for Ringo today. "Yeah, you're right. I don't want to see you again. But I do want my rings back, that's my only reason."
His brown eyes narrowed down at me, "Is that how important your rings are? The more you come to me to get your rings back makes me want to keep them to myself even more."
"What?"
"They're valuable, aren't they?" The thief wiggled his brows at me. I shrugged, "They came from fans, mister. It's the reason why they call me Ringo."
"Ringo?" He chuckled, "What a cute name. But no! Am not buying it, how did you even gain some fans? From drumming lady's arses?"
I sighed in frustration, looks like we have to do it the hard way. "Look, I'm not really in the mood to joke around right now. If you could just be a good boy for once and give me my rings?"
The guy pouted, "Don't you want something better?" I looked at him, studying his facial expression. "I mean, don't you want your money back, too? The night before I stole your rings, I stole your money first."
Getting tired of his charade, I said, "Just cut to the chase here and give me back my rings!"
He clicked his tongue, "You don't get it, do you?" He snickers, "What makes you think that I'll give them back to you just like that? I'm a thief and you're a nobody. What do you have against me? Your fans?"
I groaned upon realizing there's no use talking to this guy. I can't just tell him that I'm Ringo Starr of the Beatles, it'll be a huge blow. George and John had their own way of undercover, why not I do the same to this unjustifiable thief?
"Fine, I'm..." C'mon, Richard, think! "I'm good at cards!
He gave me a stern look. "Cards?"
"Yeah! Me and my mates used to play 'em a lot whenever we're on tour." I explained proudly. Still not satisfied, he said, "Tour? You and your friends are tour guides?"
I gulped, another wrong turn there. "I-I guess we can put it that way. We... travel to places and give people entertainment as what they pay us for."
Not bothering to ask anymore questions, he insisted, "Fine. Let's make a deal, Ritchie."
"Me name's not—"
"We'll play cards. If you win, I'll give your rings back for free." I smiled, "Well that seems like a good ide—"
"But if I win," I swallowed another lump in my throat as he bended towards me. Man, he's scary. He doesn't even look like British or American. "You pay me or you'll never get your precious rings back."
He stepped back and offers his hand for a handshake, or should I say, a deal. I always disliked shaking hands with people but if it's for the sake of my rings, I had no choice but to overcome that. "Deal." I proudly announce as I accepted his hand. "What's your name?"
"My name?" He furrows his eyebrows as if I asked something stupid. "Why do you want to know my name?"
"Just to make sure that you don't run off when I find you. I'll be here later tonight. Is that okay?"
"I may be a thief, but I know how to keep a promise, Ringo." He smirks as he turned around, "It's T'Challa. I'll see you under the moon."
* * * * *
George laughed. "What's so funny?" I scorned at him with glaring eyes. The latter wiped off the tears he got from laughing. "Your expression is so funny, you looked like what you were back then during your first show with us."
I couldn't deny that moment, I was so freakin' nervous I kept leaning back and forth. "Stop doing that, it's making you even more funny." George held me by my shoulders to prevent me from anymore movement.
"I can't help it! Loosing to him never crossed my mind." I continued rocking my body. Damn, I'm probably doing thirty swings per minute.
"You sounded so confident, stand for it." Thanks, George that helped a lot. "I don't know, mate."
As I finally stopped rocking myself, George sat beside me at the terrace and patted my back, "Don't you get it? All he wants is to watch you squirm for your rings. If you loose, you pay him. But if you win, he might just run away from you and never come back again."
"But he promised."
"He's a thief. It'll be a total waste of time, dealing with him, don't you think?" George lits up a cigarette after he spoke. He gives me a stick and I do the same. "So what do you want me to do? Pay him?"
I sneered at the idea which he doesn't reply on, "That's crazy, Harrison. You might be forgetting that we don't own a single cent here."
The sound of the door opening behind us made us turn to whoever came out from it.
"Hi, boys. I'm just going to buy a few materials for a project I'm working on. I'll be back in an hour." Jude quickly says as she ran to the gate. It's almost getting dark, so does my meeting with T'Challa.
A shinning idea suddenly came in my mind as Jude got out of the gate. "C'mon." I dragged George by the arm.
"Ringo, what the heck?" I shushed him as we went in Jude's room. Locking the door, I started to unbutton the denim coat I'm wearing.
"Woah, hey, I know you don't seem to be a jackpot on women. But you should know that being homosexual—"
I rolled my eyes at his statement. Geez, does this guy miss that so badly?
"We're not having that, you dummy. Look." I showed him the cash that I was hiding in my shirt pocket. I made sure to wear shirts with pockets so I'd get to hide them with me everyday.
The guitarist looked at the money then to me, "Where'd you get that?"
I gestured for him to be quiet as we tiptoed towards the big brown closet. George's eyes widen as I pulled out a secret drawer. "That's a good place to hide a million pounds."
Shaking my head, "No, it's not that." I got out the pink little piggy bank that has a hole made for snitching out some money. George tried pulling out bills himself, "Yoko? What is a Yoko?"
I shrugged in reply. The latter shook his head, "Doesn't matter. How long have you been getting Jude's money?"
"Err... ever since we got here?" George clicked his tongue, "What the heck, mate?'
Raising my arms, I defended myself by saying, "What? I'll pay her once—"
"No it's not that," He interrupts my statement. "Why didn't you tell me earlier? We should've snitched all these money together."
As expected, I lost my card game with T'Challa.
"Looks like lady luck isn't with you tonight, Ringo." The thief teases. I should get used calling him whatever weird name he has. "Pay me."
He puts the transparent pouch where my rings are to tempt me. Little did he know I came here all well-prepared.
I smirked as I put my money on the table. T'Challa's jaw dropped at the sight of bundled bills. I crossed my arms and let out a victory smile. "I'm not the only loser tonight, T'Challa."
Thanks to George and Yoko the piggy bank, I had money to get my rings if ever I'll loose. And I was right! I have to admit gambling wasn't really my thing and I only get to win cards whenever I play with my mates because they're kind players.
He sighs, "Oh well, a deal is a deal. Glad to know you know how to give in." T'Challa grabs the bills and starts counting it with his fingers.
On the other hand, I immediately grabbed the pouch and the tight feeling in my chest loosened as I saw my rings all in good shape.
A question suddenly pops in my mind. "Hey, T'Challa, just wondering. What are you going to do with all that money?"
The colour of his face changes as he hears my question. "Everyone needs money, little Ringo. You can't survive without any coin in your pocket."
"That's why you steal them from people? Even if it's not yours to begin with?" T'Challa scratches his head in annoyance at my questions. "Just shut up before I think about stealing your rings again."
I should've just ignored the question and shut up. For some reason I find myself asking the same.
Why did I steal?
Shaking the thoughts out of my head, I stood up and watched T'Challa as his figure slowly disappears in the alley's darkness. Wondering if we'll ever meet again.
* * * * *
My head was aching as I was starring at the big television screen in front. Goodness, the colours are mixing around my eyes it's making me dizzy. Suddenly makes me want to go back where televisions are plain black and white.
I didn't get to sleep after my game with T'Challa. Never knew why, the thought of getting all of Jude's money really hit hard on my conscience. Why am I feeling this way? Where is the proud Ringo Starr that everybody knew?
When Jude came home that night, I couldn't find the heart to look at her. Surprisingly she didn't ask us on how our day was and directly proceeded to the kitchen.
Even while we were eating, she was still quiet. I can't help but observe her appearance. A few strands of hair are dangling around her face and she hasn't changed her clothes since she got home.
While she was walking, I noticed her sprained ankle that caused the difficulty. No wonder she decided to ask someone to deliver us food. She's tired.
I've never felt this bad for her.
You should tell her.
"Hey, mate, are you okay? You seemed pretty paced out." John suddenly asks out of nowhere. I looked at him with a tired expression. My silence probably gave him the answer so he sat back on the couch next to Paul.
John's concern suddenly seem new to me. When was the last time he did that?
I looked at my band members, George, John, and Paul. We used to be those four lads from Liverpool who just wanted to perform music.
Who would've known we'd be more famous than Elvis or Little Richard?
Not to mention, I wouldn't be here if it weren't for them. It's so bizarre yet oppressing 'cause I'm nobody but a drummer.
But now tables have turned real mad and we're in the future. I'm no longer a drummer. I'm—
"Have anyone of you by any chance snooped through my things and found my piggy bank?" The girl's voice suddenly emerges from the other room.
Instead of feeling relief to hear her voice, my heart suddenly raced about what she just said.
George shoots a glance at Jude and says, "Oh, the one that has Yoko craved on it's butt? Yeah, Ringo took some money."
"Why did you tell her?" I muttered as my eyes widen at George's straight revelation. Jude must've noticed me mumbling, "What?"
"I said Ringo—"
"Ringo," Jude cuts him off with a high-pitched voice. This doesn't sound good. "You took my money?"
Leaving me with no other choice, I surrendered, "Uhm... yeah?"
She crossed my arms, "And where is it?"
I look down as I decided to tell her the truth. There's no turning back now, "I used it to go to the club every night."
"Was that the reason why I couldn't find you at night?"
I nod. That is a very poor attempt of not being caught. "All this time I thought you behaved well because I never caught you going outside. But you actually did worse! Using my savings just to go to clubs?"
There's no use in denying it now. "I-I didn't used all of them for the club. I-I also used it to pay a thief to give back my rings that he stole the other night."
"YOU DID WHAT?!"
"He said he needs it!" I defended myself, trying hard not to look affected at the way she confronted me.
I was tongue-tied at her words, guilt was written all over my face as I avoid her gaze. The feeling of regret is too heavy for my chest to handle that I couldn't bring myself to speak again.
What have I done?
"Jude, love, calm down. We can work all these out." Paul intervenes but Jude continues on her breakdown that was caused by me.
"Hold on, sweet sugar." It was John's turn to cut in. "Did you just say that we're arrogant?"
"YES!" She bursted out. "You guys are all so full of yourselves that you're forgetting that you're a human like everyone else!"
Then there was silence. Is she... pertaining to us? The four of us?
Full of yourselves.
A human being like everyone else.
I slowly lifted my gaze to watch her taking breathes to calm herself down."I thought... I thought I will be happy once I get the opportunity to be with you guys."
I listened intently on what she had to say. It's been almost a week since we got here and I just realized... we don't know her.
We never got to ask her anything about her. We were too self-centred to worry about why we're here without getting to appreciate that she's here with us.
We weren't just a band for her.
"But you know what? After spending a week with you guys, I came upon a realization. You're not the Beatles."
We were her comfort zone.
* * * * *
When I was a child, I never had real friends. I didn't get to experience what's it like to play with kids outside or hang out with teenagers my age.
"You're the last person I expect to see today. I swear I gave all of your rings." T'Challa says.
That's why I'm not good at socializing. I didn't like shaking hands with people, sharing things with them, or being close to them.
"We need to talk. It's something important." I mustered every courage on my body. "Do you know any place where we could talk in peace?"
T'Challa was hesitant at first. But after realising I had my guard down, he led me to a rocky seaside. It's around three or four in the afternoon and there isn't much any sunlight anymore.
This place really is similar to Liverpool. Grey skies would emerge early even though it wouldn't rain at all. And just like there, people would still be beaming because there's always a reason to smile no matter how dark the skies will be.
But for some people, the skies would reflect what they're feeling. Sad, melancholy, and grief.
I started the conversation by handing him the pouch from the other night. "I changed my mind. Take my rings and give the money back. This'll be the last time, I promise."
The thief raises a brow and his eyes were looking at me sternly. I diverted my gaze for a while, trying hard not to focus on the scar on his left cheek. There are some things that are far more important than that.
"You're serious?" I nodded, "The money is not mine. I stole it from someone who needed it more than I do."
The sound of laughter served as T'Challa's response to what I just said. Sheesh, I know he's a thief but I hope he's mentally stabled. "You stole it? And now you're planning to give it back?"
"It's none of your business, shag. At least I know how to return things to where they used to." I snapped. He chuckled and knelt down until he sat back on the rocky surface of the ground. "That doesn't change the fact that we're no difference."
Curious, I also sat on the rocky ground, "What do you mean?"
T'Challa sighs, "We're both thieves, little Ringo. I steal from someone, you did the same. Even if you wanted to return them, that doesn't change the fact that you had the intention to take something away from them for your desire's own good."
"Oh please, don't give me that. I've had enough lectures since last night." I complained. Remembering what happened with John and Paul earlier, made me frown. "It isn't just about the money. What I did caused a few friendships wrecked, lost someone's trust, and..."
I stopped, "And?"
"It made me realize how narcissistic I was with an ego as big as the Eiffel Tower."
Instead of maintaining the serious atmosphere, T'Challa snorted at my statement, "You sound like my grandfather."
"Look, my point here is that I'm guilty. And if I don't make a move right now, things would get bad to worse."
T'Challa takes his cap off and started fanning himself with it. I suddenly noticed that he is still wearing the leather coat I always see him with. We already met a couple of times but I never saw him change even once.
"Are you saying that you can fix all the mess with money?" He shook his head as I don't response. "I heard from a song once that money can't buy him love. Then another song said that loving can't pay his bills, yet all he wants is money."
"Those singers must be gold-diggers." I commented. "Nah, the songs are from the same band."
He continues, saying, "I may be a thief but we all know money can't solve everything. The other day, I say we can't survive this world without it in our pockets. But considering people have some sort of eccentric tackles called emotion, we couldn't conclude for sure that it'll put an end to the madness of this world.
"You couldn't make up your sin by undoing it. You said it yourself that you're a big ball full of ego. Prove to her that you're something better than that." His words made me thought deeply about it.
He's right, money isn't just the reason why Jude felt bummed out. If that's the case, these green little bills wouldn't crack the code.
"For a city thief like you, you sure do know how to get a man's soft spot." I said. T'Challa just smirked, "So I was right that you stole from a girl?"
Our gazes met which made us laugh.
- - - - - - - - - -
"How do I feel by the end of the day? (Are you sad because you're on your own?) No, I get by with a little help from my friends~" The Beatles - With a Little Help from my Friends