"Well, that was very helpful of George!" Brian huffed as he heard George's footsteps dying away.
You looked around the studio, and for the millionth time your brain went over what just happened.
Toddler John was poking at Brian's nose, and that just made him more irritated. George and Paul were sitting under a table, whispering to each other, and Ringo had managed to crawl back to the drum kit and was holding a drumstick, confused.
"Well, the question is, what do we do now?" You asked.
"I honestly don't know. Would your roommate be really be fine with four wild toddlers running around with no explanation?" Brian responded.
"Rory's really nice, and she's very good at keeping secrets." You said.
"Let's sneak out the back of the building, and make our way to your place then. I feel bad about this." Brian said.
"Don't be." You assured him. "You are the manager of one of the most famous bands in the world. I'm just a nobody. The press won't suspect a thing."
The two of you gathered the boys together. Ringo held tight onto your right hand, and John held onto your left hand.
Brian had pulled out a pair of sunglasses from his blazer pocket and put them on, and then took Paul and George by the hand.
"How did you get here?" Brian asked you.
"I took the tube." You responded.
"Let's take the tube then." Brian said.