Categories > Celebrities > Beatles > Beatlemania!

With the Beatles

by MiaRiversong 0 reviews

All of the lads are introduced to Alice.

Category: Beatles - Rating: PG-13 - Genres:  - Published: 2010-12-15 - Updated: 2010-12-16 - 1573 words - Complete

1Ambiance
Their hotel was far grander than I could have ever imagined. I was apprehensive as soon as we were in the lobby.

“Uh...look, I don’t know if-” I was cut off.

John was tugging me gently to the elevator. “Don’t worry about it, love. It’s to repay you for
paying for both of our meals earlier.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Both?”

“Yeah, you left about twenty quid on the table,” John was steering me into the elevator now and George was watching my face intently.

“Twenty?” I gasped. “I could’ve sworn I only left ten!”

John laughed. “Nope, it was definitely twenty.”

I frowned. “Then yeah, take me inside! You owe me!”

George laughed cheerily and led the way towards room 655. A king suite, I’ll bet.
John did some funky knock thing on the door and yelled, “GOD SAVE THE QUEEN!”

The door was opened by a very annoyed looking man in a suit.

“John, we agreed that all we would do is knock four times,” he snapped, opening the door and letting the three of us in.

“Really, I could have sworn you wanted me to make up a code and password,” John winked at me quickly.

I smothered my laughter and John continued to talk. “George thinks it’s a great idea, don’t you George?”

George forced on a straight face and nodded. “Oh, yeah, straight up.”

The man looked rather irritated now, but let out an exasperated sigh and closed the door behind us and went back to the desk with some papers.

“I thought I told you lot to stay put?” He lectured from the desk.

“Oh cheer up, Eppy, we only made a friend. See, this is Alice,” John introduced me.

I waved, but Brian Epstein, the boys’ manager, hadn’t even looked up.

John flipped him the bird and George led me to the settee, where the remaining Beatles were lazily sitting.

Bravely, I perched myself next to Ringo, who looked far less intimidating than Paul.

“Hello,” I announced politely.

Ringo jumped in surprise when he saw me. “Er, hello.”

“Sorry, I’m not here to give you a lap dance,” I gave him a friendly smile.

John laughed loudly. “Yeah, you can relax, Ritchie!”

“I’m Alice,” I grinned.

Ringo returned my smile graciously. “Hi, Alice; you can call me anything but Pinocchio.”

I snorted. “You have my word.”

Paul looked up when he noticed there was a conversation that he wasn’t involved in. “I’m Paul.”

I nodded. “So I see.”

I had to force myself to be cool. Paul was just, well...handsome. There was no other way to put it. If Ringo was as comfortable as my favourite teddy bear, then Paul was as captivating as a...meteor shower? I couldn’t even think of a good enough metaphor.

The baby-faced “cute one” smiled affably. “Did you follow John down the rabbit hole, then?”

I wrinkled my nose at his attempt at a literary reference. “If you ask me, I was the white rabbit and HE was Alice, following me around New York City.”

Paul turned his amused face towards John, who remained unabashed. “She paid for me meal.”

Paul looked surprised. “You bastard!”

John threw up his hands defensively, and I jumped in to save him. “I walked off in a bit of huff.
Didn’t bother to tell me he was dirt poor until after the sex.”

George gave me a crooked smile from where he was standing and the rest of the boys roared with laughter.

“So you’re the Alice Westwood the lads were lookin’ up in the phone book, eh?” The voice came from a cheerful, slightly stout man.

“Yep, the innocent girl being stalked by two Beatles,” I smiled politely at the man.

“I’m Mal Evans,” he offered.

I waved, since he was too far away to give a handshake to. I turned back to Ringo. “How long are you all in town for?”

“About four days, I’d say,” Paul estimated. “Give or take a few hours.”

“Seen all the usual sights?” I asked curiously.

John shook his head. “All Paul and Ritchie’ve seen is the airport tarmac and the stage. George and I have seen quite a bit of the city, mind you.” His teasing grin was infectious.

I gaped. “No Lady Liberty? No Empire State building?”

All four boys shook their heads no. I laughed almost in disbelief. “Right, tomorrow I am your tour guide around this stupid city.”

“We’re not exactly strangers to the...er, Big Apple they call it, innit?” Ringo asked uncertainly.

I rolled my eyes. “If you’re calling it the Big Apple then you’re definitely a stranger to it.”

John was smothering his laughter with a pillow, and Ringo reached over with his hand and punched John weakly in the shoulder.

George insisted I stay longer to play a quick game of Monopoly. My only response was to raise my eyebrows suspiciously.

“Monopoly is never a ‘quick game’, George,” I corrected.

The handsome guitarist shrugged. “Alright, then, you should stay for a really long game of the most boring game to ever exist.”

I smiled despite myself and agreed. But due to the boys’ antics and John’s cheating, the game was fun and lasted for about an hour and a half.

“John, you’re supposed to take 200 when you pass Go, not 800 you wanker,” Paul snapped, snatching the extra notes from John’s fingers.

John threw a wink in my direction. “Whoopsies!”

“Who made him the bloody banker?” Ringo complained loudly.

“YOU did, Ringo!” George retorted with an obvious eye roll.

I laughed at loud. These guys were certain entertaining. “You should all be in the movies, forget your singing careers!”

John took a mock bow and Paul tipped his imaginary hat to me. Ringo grinned like a little boy and George simply nodded in agreement.

After an hour and a half of playing, we decided that Ringo got to win, and John the cheater had to clean up. He did so angrily, shoving things in the wrong way and bending the paper money and cards.

By this time, it was nearly four in the afternoon. Finally, I insisted on leaving. I left my phone number with Ringo and told him to give me a ring when the boys wanted that tour.

They said their lazy goodbyes and I returned to the apartment full in good spirits. I hadn’t laughed that hard in a while.

“Alice!” Lucy’s cheerful voice greeted me when I got home.

“Hey-oh, hi, Joseph,” I said coolly when I noticed the boy sitting on a barstool and eating my pasta with my mother’s homemade recipe.

“Alice,” he smiled rather dryly.

Lucy grinned, oblivious to our obvious dislike for each other. “Where’ve you been, in the park as usual?”

Joseph smirked at the childish ring it had to it.

I blushed. “No, I was with some friends.”

Lucy looked interested. “Really, who was it; anyone I know?”

I shook my head, grateful that she gave me the excuse right on a platter. “They’re new friends. James, Richard, uh Harry and...Winston!” My improvised codenames worked perfectly.

She frowned. “Well, I definitely don’t know anyone called Winston! What an old fashioned name!”

I nodded in agreement. “I might see them again tomorrow.”

Lucy smiled distantly and turned her attention back to Joseph, who was licking the leftover tid-bits of sauce off of the plate.

“Could you take your dog outside, Lucy?” I snapped, glaring at the sickening male in front of me.

She looked rather shocked at my little outburst and immediately sent an apologetic look at Joseph. I slammed the door of my room shut and threw myself onto the bed. This was supposed to be my one chance to get one up on Lucy; a chance to make her jealous of me for once. I got all worked up and started to cry. They were self-pitying tears and I hated them, but I couldn’t really seem to stop.

I fell asleep at around five, but my body’s alarm clock woke me up again at seven thirty, and I could smell something strange coming from the kitchen. I dropped out of my coat and slipped off my shoes (I hadn’t bothered to take them off when I got into bed) and I walked cautiously into the kitchen.

It was a mess. Lucy was trying to watch the microwave, the stove, and the oven all at once, and it wasn’t working.

“Lucy,” I groaned, hurrying over to the kitchen. “What are you doing? You know you can’t cook!”

Lucy looked sheepish. “I was trying to make up. It was chilli with garlic bread and brownies.” She pointed to the stove, microwave, and oven respectively.

I shook my head with a sigh. “Joseph is an asshole, Lucy.”

She nodded. “I know you feel that way. And when you left he was going on and on about what a horrible person you were. I gave him the old “get the hell out of my house” speech. Didn’t you hear? It was quite loud.”

I shrugged. “I took a nap.”

Lucy tried to salvage the chilli, but it was long gone. I dumped it and we had burnt garlic bread and crunchy brownies for dinner.
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