A/N - Next chapter for you guys. Sorry if it's slow, I'm running on little to no sleep. Allergy season suuuucks. I had to get this chapter on paper though because her dream is based on one I had recently. It's filler mostly, but still, hope you enjoy it.
Chapter Thirty: Ashley's POV
That evening was pretty much uneventful, I ended up just going to hang out with the boys in their suite and they had ordered room service. The tension was thick though, with the tiredness no doubt everyone was experiencing along with the upsetting thing that had occurred earlier. No one talked about it, but it was the elephant in the room. If their manager didn't approve of me all of a sudden, did that mean I had to leave? Where the hell was I supposed to go? I mean, it was even lucky I had found Paul when I got there. Would I have to own up to who and what I really was? I know I was mulling over all those things which drastically affected my appetite. Around 10, I decided to take my leave and Paul insisted on walking me to my room which was only a few doors away. After a half-hearted goodnight to the others, we left. It was silent between us for most of the way.
"Are you tired?" He finally asked me.
"Sort of. Just had to get out of there, everyone is like so close to snapping tonight." I confessed.
"Yeah well... you know why." He replied.
"I know. And I really appreciate you guys sticking up for me but if I'm going to put a rift between you guys and your manager..." I trailed off. What exactly was I going to suggest? He stopped me and laid his hands on my shoulders.
"Nobody is making you leave if that's what you're getting at. We're all gonna take care of this first thing tomorrow. You're super special to all of us, Ashley. We're not just gonna give in." He stared straight into my eyes and I got a chill. He was the second one to say something like that.
"Well, I have to say I'm feeling pretty special since this happened. I didn't know how much you guys were desperate for me to stay with you." I made a half hearted joke.
"You are special, Ashley. Don't let anyone tell you different." Was his reply to that. My heart just went to mush. Why was he such a sweetie?
"Thanks." I felt a little sheepish.
"I'll let you turn in then, and don't worry about anything, okay?" He said after a moment. I nodded.
"Okay. Goodnight." I said to him, feeling slightly better. He kissed me before he left and I felt slightly giddy. The episode at the interview had overshadowed the fact that I was falling in love with him.
"Goodnight." He said in parting and I went inside, closing and locking the door behind me. But as much as I wanted to go to bed, I found myself taking a long shower and changing not into my pajamas but a plain black dress. I needed to go for a walk, just to sort through some things and maybe make peace with this whole manager thing. I grabbed my coat as I left, not really caring if I had my wig on or not, it was dark out anyway. I didn't take the elevator down, I jut slowly took the stairs, hearing the heel of my shoe click on every one. I really intended on going out the front doors and getting lost somewhere but once I reached the lobby, someone caught my eye off to the side in the hotel bar. I didn't even think it through, I just spun on my heel and walked into the bar. The person I wanted to speak to was sitting at a table near the door with a drink and a newspaper. I plunked myself down across from him and he lowered the paper.
"Miss Bunting? Can I help you?" Mr. Epstein asked.
"Yeah, you can cut the crap and level with me." I sounded firmer than I had intended. My tone surprised him, but I wasn't gonna back down now.
"I-I don't understand..." He fumbled with the paper.
"I'm sorry if I've upset you in some way or done something to make you think I'm not good enough for your precious Beatles, but they would all say otherwise." I said sternly.
"Miss Bunting, this isn't personal, it's strictly business. I'm sure fans and the press don't want to see some strange girl following the boys like an adoring puppy everywhere they go." He tried to explain. I sat back.
"Isn't that why you made me an assistant?" I retorted. He paused.
"Yeah, tell me it isn't personal again. I dare you." I was angry and I hardly ever got angry.
"Miss Bunting, since you've been...with them, I've had to put out more fires dealing with them than ever before." He went a different angle.
"So? They're kids! They're young men supercharged with ego and hormones, of course they're gonna get into trouble. You should be grateful for all I've done with them since I've been here. Did you know it was me that got to Paul as soon as I could when he got hurt? Did you know it was me who stitched John up after he went after the perpetrators? Did you know that it was me who tried to fix the newspaper scandal with John? Did you know it was me who made sure if they were drunk they went straight to bed? I've been such a helping hand with those four than I think you realize and they love me. They can't imagine life without me with them. I've tried to be nothing but a good assistant too. I've worn the getup in public, I've done paperwork for God's sake, I've doted on and cared for those four boys above and beyond probably anybody since they've been on tour. So you can't tell me I'm a disruptive influence." I rhymed off. He was speechless. I was just going to stand to go when he finally spoke.
"I suppose I may have misjudged you, miss Bunting. I know the lads love you and you do bring a certain charm to their dynamic as a group. I apologize." He said. I felt sort of winded after my little spout off there, but it proved to work.
"Thank you. Have a good night." I replied, fixing my collar before I left the man in peace. A small smile spread its way across my face as it clued in as to what I'd just done. I'd stood up for myself like an adult would have in this situation.
"That's right, I'm not some seventeen-year-old schoolgirl from modern day London anymore." I thought proudly as I passed a mirror.
"I'm a young woman in the 1960's." I was tired after that, and I was satisfied with what I had accomplished. I was heading back up the stairs to my floor when a familiar figure caught my eye at the top of the floor.
"John? What are you doing out here?" I asked as I reached him. He saw me and looked like he was about to say the same thing.
"I'm not doing anything else until this problem with Brian is fixed." He said pointedly. I was scared for a moment as to what he intended to do, but I quickly regained my composure.
"No need, I handled it." I told him. He looked at me surprised.
"You handled it? What did you do?" He asked.
"I talked to him." I shrugged.
"Well if it was only that easy earlier..." He made a little joke and he seemed to relax.
"What did you say?" Was his next question. The two of us started walking toward the next staircase.
"Just that I didn't think I was a problem, he needed to see I was an ally and not an enemy and that you guys love me." I tacked on the last bit sort of as a joke.
"Jesus, you didn't really tell him we love you did you?" I couldn't discern if he was joking or not.
"Well some variation of that, yeah. I figured it was a winner to say to him otherwise. Why else would I be with you all for so long?" I dangled the bait, seeing if he was indeed kidding around. He cracked a smile finally.
"Well, don't ever say this in public, miss Ashley, but I do love you. We all love you. When you first showed up, I thought you were just a snobby friend of Paul's who was gonna stick her nose into our lives and get in the way." He said. I didn't take offense to any of that, I knew.
"But you proved you were far from that right off the bat. You've got spunk, Ashley Bunting and you've become not just Paul's friend but George's, Ringo's and even one of my closest friends. I don't think I've ever met anyone, let alone a girl, that got me as much as you do. There's no way we could ever give you up. Especially me." I tried not to tear up at his speech. I loved the moments where his true self shone through.
"Thank you. That means a lot." I told him truthfully as we reached our floor. He smirked at me.
"You're welcome. Now don't go blabbing it to everybody. Got it?" He half teased. I smiled and playfully punched him lightly in the arm.
"Got it. Goodnight." I said.
"Goodnight, Miss Ashley." He replied, before we parted. His words echoed through my mind as I walked back to my room and tossed my coat on the couch.
"You've got spunk, Ashley Bunting...I don't think I've ever met anyone, let alone a girl, that got me as much as you do...There's no way we could ever give you up. Especially me." I guess I was one of the few people who really understood him. Whether that was from general knowledge in the future or some kind of bloodline link, I didn't know. But I saw so many similarities between him and dad, between him and me... My heart ached thinking again about what was to come all too soon.
"Don't dwell on that. You had a good talk, that's a point for team friendship once again." I smiled to myself as I made my way back to the bedroom. So the evening had worked out okay after all. Paul had walked me 'home' in essence and kissed me goodnight which was sweet, I'd solved my own problems with Mr. Epstein and I hoped John would relay that news to the other three, and John and I had another heart to heart. I was definitely ready for bed by then, just full of good vibes and emotions. I changed into a blue night dress, braided my dark hair into a French braid and climbed under the covers. Sleep came almost instantly.
I heard a crash in the middle of the night that woke me up instantly.
"What the hell was that?" I thought, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. I quickly realized I wasn't in the hotel room... where was I? I was in a king sized bed with overly floral bedsheets. Still sort of in a fog, I switched on the lamp and dim light filled the room. I was in a bedroom, but I wasn't even back home... no this was an entirely different bedroom. The walls were painted an ugly yellow and the furniture wasn't modern at all.
"Where am I?" I thought, throwing back the covers and standing up. I was still in the blue nightdress but I quickly realized that I wasn't seventeen anymore. I was facing a mirror near the bed and I almost screamed! It was still me, I had my dad's eyes still and his nose, but I wasn't a teenager, I was somewhere in my twenties!
"How did this happen? Did I jump through time?" I thought, panicking. I pulled my hands through my much longer hair and something caught my scalp. Pulling my hand away, I saw a wedding ring on my left finger. My heart froze. What had happened?! I didn't remember anything. Hearing another crash, I grabbed a shawl from the nearby chair and wrapped it around my shoulders as I ran out of the room and down the hall. I was in a proper house!
"Who am I married to? Where did the years go?" I thought. And more importantly, what year was this? I saw the front door and threw it open. It was the middle of the night but all I saw was grass and the sky. Still panicking, I stepped outside and cool air bit at my cheeks. I looked around to see a car in the driveway that was old, but it didn't look 60's old, it looked later than that. I didn't know how I knew that. On the porch was a porch swing and a small garden below. I was shaking by then, either from shock or cold, I didn't know. I went back inside and closed the door, unsure of what to do next when I heard a sound again from another room. I followed my ears, my heart nearly beating through my rib cage until I got to a living room. Books from the shelf on the wall had been knocked onto the floor and a vase of flowers sat precariously on the edge of a side table. I moved the vase to safety, and that's when I saw him. It was Paul, approximately ten years older passed out on the ugly pink couch with a bottle of what looked like scotch in his hand, threatening to fall. I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth as I started piecing things together. I was his wife, we had a house in the middle of seemingly nowhere and he was drunk off his ass. I still couldn't remember any of the life I was supposed to have here, but I quietly tried to take the bottle from him. He obviously wasn't completely passed out because he murmured my name.
"It's me, just go to sleep." I spoke finally.
"What happened?" He replied, his speech clearly affected from the alcohol. He sat up and I blinked back tears. What had happened to him? He had a beard, his hair was all messed up, his clothes were disheveled and his eyes looks so tired and sad. But I knew he meant what had happened to him within the last few hours.
"You must've gone out drinking." I sighed gently, sitting next to him.
"Oh." Was his answer as he laid his head back. I looked at the wedding band on my hand and wondered how long we'd been married. I didn't even remember my wedding day.
"You should get some sleep. You're gonna feel pretty awful come the morning." I advised.
"What did I ever do to deserve you? Most women would be yelling at me to get my goddamn life together." He muttered, turning to face me. I smiled gently and touched the side of his face.
"I'm not most women." I answered, still pretty perplexed. He just smiled back and turned away again. I watched him and his hazel eyes started welling with tears.
"Paul?" I asked. He punched the cushion next to him, clearly angry now. I jumped a little, trying frantically to remember if he was violent when drunk at all.
"I can't believe it." He cried angrily.
"Can't believe what? What's the matter?" I reached out to him.
"It's over, Ashley. It's just over...and he's so horrible to me..." I took his hand and gave it a squeeze, trying to figure out what in the hell he was talking about. My eyes skimmed over a newspaper laying on the coffee table and noted the date. It was April 1970. The band had just broken up. I knew that though Paul chose to leave in the end, it really broke him and he and John weren't on the best of terms during those days. I caught my breath just thinking about him briefly. Where was he? Did he know I married Paul? Did he approve?
"Hey listen, it's a rough time for all of us right now. But it will get better. I promise. And as for John, don't you worry about him. I'll deal with him if I have to." I finally opened my mouth. He faced me again, tears still in his eyes.
"You don't think I'm a failure, do you?" He asked me. My eyes softened at his sadness.
"Of course I don't. You're a wonderful man. You're a wonderful musician, songwriter and person. Don't you dare let anyone else tell you different." I told him. I knew he probably wouldn't remember any of this come the morning, but it was worth a shot. He accepted that and let me put him to bed after that. I let him have the bed, feeling really weird about sharing one even though it seemed we were married. I went back to the living room and picked up the books before I laid down on the couch. I was going to close my eyes and go back to sleep when suddenly it all came to me. How I'd been stuck in the past since 1963, I toured with the lads, I dated Paul come winter of 1964 and we dated right up until 1968 when he asked me to marry him. We'd been married for three years, I'd watched the band go through Beatlemania, to the decline of the band, the drugs, the fighting, everything. I remembered I hadn't spoken to John since '69. They had all been in attendance at the wedding though, a small garden affair. And I was still here. Living life married to Paul in the wake of the breakup of the best band in history. I loved him, I really did but I did wonder about my old life sometimes and if I'd just faded out of existence. Somehow, even though I remembered all that and should have been losing my mind, I still went to sleep.
I felt my heart pounding in my ears and heard short gasping breaths. I was running, but from what? I opened my eyes and my legs were running down a street in the middle of Manhattan.
"Not again!" I panicked. I was still not seventeen, it was the night John died and I had aged. I was now in my thirties. Where Paul was, I didn't know. I tried to stop running, but I couldn't. I looked around frantically for him through a sea of faceless faces until I caught sight of him.
"John! Run!" I cried. He looked at me perplexed.
"Ashley?" He asked in disbelief. I approached him and he was alone, his wife wasn't with him.
"That's not right..." I thought.
"No, no don't stand there, run!" I pleaded, noticing we were in front of the Dakota. He reached out to me.
"It must be... ten years since I last saw you." He was getting sentimental!
"Okay, that's great, I'm sorry I haven't been in touch but we really have got to go." I urged him.
"Why? What's the rush? I've missed you. Why don't you come inside? Meet the wife and my boy." He smiled.
"John, listen to me...there's a man around here with a gun and he wants to kill you." I said in all seriousness.
"Ashley, have you lost it? No one's going to hurt me." He chuckled. Just then, I hard Paul's voice.
"There you are. You just took off; I didn't know where you went." He came up to me.
"Sorry..." I was still looking around, panicking.
"John... good to see you." Paul realized who was with me.
"You as well. Treating Ashley good, are you?" He asked. Paul smiled at me.
"Oh I think so."
"Listen guys, this is a nice reunion and all but please we have to go!" I cried.
"She's convinced someone's out here to kill me." John laughed. Just then, the popping sound of gunfire echoed down the street. It all happened so fast. The gunman ducked out from around the corner and started firing his sidearm like a madman. I screamed bloody murder as I realized it was me in the path of fire. John dove in front of me to save my life and I landed face down on the pavement. I scrambled to my feet, feeling blood drip from my forehead and started screaming. John lay dead in front of me having saved my life but Paul lay next to him, his dark eyes wide open but seeing nothing.
"No...No!" I screamed.
I sat right up, my heart racing a mile a minute.
"Well, that's new." I thought. Adrenaline was coursing through every fibre of my body over what my mind had just cooked up. I was shaking like a leaf as I threw back the covers and staggered to the bathroom. I turned on the light and faced the mirror.
"Why?" I asked myself. The dream had even started out weird. Slightly panicking, I checked my hands just to make sure there was indeed no wedding ring. There wasn't, I was still seventeen, I was still in New York in 1964.
"Geez, if this one doesn't take the cake..." I said to myself. I was scared. The dreams of me watching John die had been scary enough but coupled with me growing older as time went on with me stuck in the past was scarier. As was being married to Paul and the fact that this time both him and John had been shot dead... because of me.
"Oh stop overthinking this. It was a bloody nightmare." I thought, trying to get my mind off it. Suddenly, I just wanted someone to hold me close and tell me it was just a dream and everything would be okay. Usually that was my dad. But he wasn't here.
"And I'm not bugging one of the lads over a bad dream." I thought, trying to get myself to laugh. I got myself a drink of water before my nerves calmed down enough to go back to bed.
"Relax. It's not the seventies, you're not married to Paul, he and John haven't died saving your life. You're okay." I told myself. But the cold reality was, John was still going to die. It was written in time and yet again in my dreams I failed to save him.
"Isthis some kind of foreshadowing? Because I don't like it." I said aloud.Somehow, I managed to fall back asleep.