*ೃ:.✧ ─── ( 𝙚𝙥𝙞𝙨𝙤𝙙𝙚 𝙨𝙞𝙭 )
❛ EIGHT DAYS A WEEK ❜
⌣*ೃ:.✧✼°․⋆⌣
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𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗲 𝟴, 𝟭𝟵𝟲𝟰
THE SUN was starting to set over amsterdam, and evelyn was in the airport, surrounded by the beatles and their team. since it was getting late, that usually meant the boys would become more giddy through the night. they had a fourteen hour flight ahead of them and evelyn was not eager in the slightest bit.
"i've heard you have glasses? why don't you wear them?" she asked john, trying to get in a few questions before she plans on sleeping during the plane ride.
"glasses are for grannies. but don't worry, your beauty is still crystal clear." he smiled cheekily.
at first, she thought john was as the most mature given he was a bit reserved when she met him, but after observing him for the past couple of days, he was just as crude and childish as the other three.
rolling her eyes and having no energy to retalliate, evelyn turned to ringo who was on the other side of john. "why do you insist on wearing so many rings?" she inquired, her pen resting on her small notepad.
"for each person i've killed, deary." he said in a swashbuckling voice, holding up his hand and pointing to one of his rings.
"brian," evelyn called out to the manager, not caring that he was using the pay phone just a few feet away from them. "they can't even give me serious answers."
"boys," brian simply warned, not really listening to their conversation with evelyn but assumed the band's demeanor was upsetting her — per usual. he then again focused on his phone call.
brian epstein was one of the main reasons the beatles' fame skyrocketed. they had much respect for him and so they obeyed his warning. "tattletale." ringo muttered.
"i'm not getting paid enough to work eight days a week for these imbeciles." she thought aloud.
"it's also not enough time to show you how much i care about you, baby." paul moaned, followed with a wink, making the boys laugh. evelyn shot him a glare then stormed off to join melanie, who was sitting and filing her nails.
"hey, that'd be a good song title. eight days a week." ringo repeated, having an epiphany.
they sat by the gate for a few more minutes until the plane arrived.
she was scared of heights, but somehow, the idea of floating above the clouds was oddly exhilarating for her. it was peaceful from way up here, far away from the rest of the world and it's travesties. her mind felt at ease, even being cooped up in the same plane with the beatles.
larry and the boys sat in a circle on the floor and immersed themselves into a very heated game of poker. where they got the chips and random change was beyond evelyn, but it kept them busy and away from her so she couldn't care less.
she sat near the front of the plane, reading a magazine — as she often did before going to sleep.
"bullocks!" paul exclaimed startling all of his fellow passengers.
"so i bluff." ringo shrugged nonchalantly, impressed with himself and his win more than anything. he grabbed his pile of earnings as his vibrant blue eyes flickered with greed.
"i quit." paul huffed, throwing his cards across the floor.
"either of you ladies want to take paul's place instead?" larry offered looking over at melanie and evelyn.
melanie, sitting across from evelyn, gave her a friend a look seeking reassurance. almost as if she was asking for permission considering she was still evelyn's assistant and this was, indeed, a job assignment.
"i'm not going to stop you from gambling with those idiots. easy wins in my opinion." evelyn stated nonchalantly before going back to reading her magazine.
the african-american woman smiled eagerly and made her way to the sloppy poker circle. "let me show them how it's done, paul, yea?"
"go ahead, but they're cheats." he said standing up. "and george sweats like a pig when he's nervous, so if it starts to smell rubbish, just know he's got nothin'."
while melanie giggled and took paul's place on the floor, george had no problem in giving paul the bird. larry dealt a new round of cards as paul headed towards evelyn. he had been planning to get her alone, and having melanie join in the poker game was all just apart of that plan.
he plopped down in the seat next to evelyn and she mentally groaned at his presence. she was just about ready to doze off until he sat down, knowing he would blab about something.
"i wanted to say i'm sorry for being so forward with ye at breakfast the other day . . . and when we met, and then that time after the concert, then that time at dinner, and then that — "
"i got it." she assured, silencing him. "did brian tell you to say all this?" she asked in a skeptical tone.
"yes — but i still mean it. honest." she lingered her gaze on him to check for sincerity, and once she was sastified, she adverted her attention back to her magazine. over the last few years of being a journalist, it was easy for evelyn to decipher if someone was lying or not.
"so you read a lot?" he asked, sparking up a conversation. evelyn couldn't decide what she was more annoyed by; paul himself, or his stupid question.
"i don't know. does a journalist read a lot?" she asked him dumbfoundedly.
"touché." he admitted, mentally slapping himself. "i read every now and then when i can." he shrugged, trying to impress her.
"you mean besides sheet music?"
"oh, none of us can read sheet music." he shook his head with a laugh, shifting in his seat.
"well that explains it." she muttered, referring to the band's mediocrity.
"my favorite book is the boy who wouldn't grow up." he told and she quickly snapped her head to face him.
now he had her attention.
"that's a children's story." she explained slowly, making sure she was thinking of the correct story.
"which is why it's so great!" he insisted.
the boy who wouldn't grow up was about the daring tales of peter pan who was a boy forever, falling in love with a girl, fighting pirates, and flying with fairies. evelyn remembered reading it as a child and the magic it brought her. but then she remembered how her parents killed the elaborate imagination she had, for it was 'silly' and 'improper'.
"how fitting." she said, knowing paul had a youthful free spirit — like an immature child did.
"although, i have read classic literature like 1984." he stated, hoping she'd view him as an intelligent bloke.
"you've read 1984?" she inquired unconvincingly.
"yeah! my little brother did too. it scared him shitless." he chuckled paying no mind to his foul language. "he's so paranoid now."
"what's your brother's name?"
paul started to get excited seeing evelyn take in interest in him, but he seemed to have forgotten that she was simply just doing her job. if she was going to chat with him, she might as well get something productive out of it. she hated wasting her time.
"michael — well it's peter, but he goes by his middle name, just like me." he informed.
"your real name isn't paul?" she questioned confused.
"it's james. and since we already decided i was to go by paul, 'peter' would just be too alliterative."
she was actually surprised to know this fact and realized she liked 'paul' much better than 'james'. his real name sounded too . . . sophisticated for his personality. "wouldn't have taken you for the 'james' type."
"and that's why i go by paul." he said with a pointed finger. "i just got a new stepsister too. her name is ruth. i've only met her a handful of times with touring and all." he rambled.
she started to zone him out, simply because she was tired. he didn't realize how much he was talking, for he was so thrilled to finally have a moment alone with her and that's all he could think about.
paul usually hated cold-hearted people, but he had a funny feeling — call it a musician's intuition — that under her bitter persona was actually a broken woman. he firmly believed no one was born malicious and suspected she was in denial about something. he hoped by talking to her, he could possibly help her.
paul wasn't looking for love or a romantic relationship with evelyn, not that it hadn't crossed his mind, but rather make her a safety blanket he could confide in, and she could do the same with him. he's spent so many nights feeling lonely and tired of only being surrounded by his bandmates every waking moment, and needed some female companionship. but evelyn was an entirely different case.
there wasn't a second of the day that she didn't sit in the back of paul's mind. no matter how hard he tried to shake the thought of her, it was useless. he had this weird, fluttery feeling in his gut that told him he was meant to be in her life. and even now, with her guarded personality, he just knew he shouldn't give up on evelyn.
evelyn's eyelids were starting to become heavy until paul did something to jolt her awake. "hey, that's mike's favorite model."
as paul points to the picture in the magazine, his wrist ever so slightly grazed evelyn's, making her flinch violently at his touch and he quickly retracted his hand. she froze, staring at her magazine, embarrassed by her action . . . she had just shown paul mccartney that she was afraid.
paul's face went numb, not sure how to react. why did she jump like that? it was just a simple touch — if one could even consider that a touch.
she turned her head towards him, meeting his gaze. his hazel eyes were burning into her sapphire ones, and it was almost as if he could see the pain behind them. it made him tense up and she quickly looked away realizing he had probably gotten the idea that he provoked some of her trauma.
he wanted to know why his touch seemed to cause her twinge because he hated feeling like he had done something to scare her. out of the entire tour, she never looked so unsure — and at a loss of words — than she did this very moment and it made his chest ache.
evelyn remained quiet, hoping he'd leave her alone and forget the fear she felt only a moment ago. but it felt like hours of silence between the two with paul simply gaping at her.
luckily, john's voice broke the awkward tension, "bloody hell!"
paul got up and joined them to see what his bandmates were fussing about as evelyn banged the back of her head on her seat, closed her eyes, and let out a sigh, reminsching the unsettling memories of why she grew to be so sensitive to another man's touch.
"what do you say, boys?" melanie smirked, winning the whole pot as she brought it closer to her. "round two?"
━━━━━━━ 𝑨𝑼𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑹'𝑺 𝑵𝑶𝑻𝑬
chapter summary: the beatles, brian, larry and evelyn await at the airport for their flight to hongkong. she asks the boys some questions before the board the plane, and they give goofy answers which makes her say, "i don't get paid enough to work eight days a week for these imbeciles," sparking an idea of a song title from ringo . . .
while on the plane, the boys play a poker game on the floor. paul loses by a lot and quits, and melanie decides to take his place. this opened an oppurtunity for paul to talk to evelyn alone. they discuss literature, paul telling her his favorite story is the boy who wouldn't grow up, and then brings up his brother's favorite book.
evelyn finds out paul's real name is james and then paul rambles on about liverpool. he then points out a picture in the magazine she has in her hands, accidently touching her wrist and causing her to violently flinch. he ignites bad memories and trauma for her and feels awful. for the rest of the plane, they remain silent.
sometimes, because i read and write so much paul and ringo fan fiction, I literally forget their old men now lol like idk it just feels weird to me when i leave the world of wattpad
⚠️ also, you'll probably find out why she flinched so hard in ACT THREE, but I'll be dropping hints.
this is my new favorite photo of these two bc look how sun kissed and hot they are 🥵
btw, there was no good george content in this chapter because he get's some of the spotlight in the next . . .