Categories > Celebrities > Beatles
Happy Just To Dance With You (Chapter One)
1 reviewGeorge starts his day off on the wrong foot, and his lonesome feelings grow worse.
0Unrated
George leaned his head against the limousine window and looked out at the gray fog that had fallen over New York City. Chewing on his lip, he followed the rain trickle down the glass with a sullen eye. He was tired, and longing to rest his weary head on something much softer. More than that, he was longing for someone to hold... or maybe hold him. He had never felt so lonesome for as long as he could remember. He furrowed his eyebrows and bit his lip harder. In the dull, dreary late August of 1964, he was a rich and handsome man. Women were throwing themselves at him and his mates. Others constantly by his side to make sure he has everything he needs. The finest clothing, finest shoes, beautiful guitars being given to him from all over. Including the latest, a shiny, red Gretsch Country Gentleman. Hell, people were brushing his teeth for him.
Of course George was grateful for all of this, from the bottom of his heart. But there still something missing, something that couldn't be shipped to him from another country, something that wasn't of material. He longed to simply lay in bed with a woman, hold her by the small of her back, bury his nose into her neck and fall into a deep sleep. Plenty of women would be happy to fulfill that longing for him, plenty have. But it never meant anything, sleeping with those women. He came to their city, stayed with them for a night, and he was off with a kiss on the cheek. It wasn't that they weren't beautiful enough for him, or couldn't satisfy him in the way they were trying to. He simply hadn't found enough of a connection with any of them to keep in touch. And if he had found a connection, would he even be able to keep it going? He was on the road, playing shows, meeting press, making music, virtually for the rest of his life. Never had a chance to sit down, really. What women would want to be in a committed relationship with that? He didn't want a marriage, didn't want to settle down in that way. He just wanted a real steady girl friend. Someone who's there for him longer than one night.
He jumped, his day dream broken, as a hand came down on his shoulder. He bit his lip hard, accidentally, as the hand touched him.
He tasted a bit of blood from his lower lip and yelled out.
"Ah! Don't startle me like that, I mean for Pete's sake John, I..."
"Who's Pete? Someone I should know about?" John batted his eyelashes
George licked his lip and gave John such a look that John replied with a frown, sarcastic one of course. George wondered how he could stay so good natured, seeing as none of them have slept in about week. Now they were off now to a press meeting, hungry and exhausted and George, for one, was cranky and couldn't even bring himself to smile.
"Aw, hey mister, don't get upset. You looked a little down, I thought a nice comforting hand on the ol' shoulder would bring you up, is all. You look tense, want a massage? Hm?"
George shrugged John's hand off and looked back out the window. John's face softened.
"Look," he started, "I know we're all a bit tired and grumpy but after this, we can go to the hotel and sleep, huh? We can order food right to the room and relax, how 'bout it? That party isn't until tonight, we don't have to be out until 7."
He didn't want to go to any party, he thought. Fine wine and dancing was all right, but just about every night? Lay off it, he was tired and it was a Wednesday night. Why can't they push it to the weekend?
When George didn't respond, John gave him one more look, half of disapproval and half of concern, looked back out his window and lit a cigarette. The weather and all around atmosphere had drained the boys. As George peeked around the limousine from the corner of his eye, he saw Paul and Ringo had their heads thrown back and their mouths open, dead asleep. He thought about doing the same, but they'd be at their destination in less than 30 minutes anyway, and John would never let him sleep. He leaned his head against the window once more and ran his tongue over the dried blood on his lip. It was going to be a long day.
Of course George was grateful for all of this, from the bottom of his heart. But there still something missing, something that couldn't be shipped to him from another country, something that wasn't of material. He longed to simply lay in bed with a woman, hold her by the small of her back, bury his nose into her neck and fall into a deep sleep. Plenty of women would be happy to fulfill that longing for him, plenty have. But it never meant anything, sleeping with those women. He came to their city, stayed with them for a night, and he was off with a kiss on the cheek. It wasn't that they weren't beautiful enough for him, or couldn't satisfy him in the way they were trying to. He simply hadn't found enough of a connection with any of them to keep in touch. And if he had found a connection, would he even be able to keep it going? He was on the road, playing shows, meeting press, making music, virtually for the rest of his life. Never had a chance to sit down, really. What women would want to be in a committed relationship with that? He didn't want a marriage, didn't want to settle down in that way. He just wanted a real steady girl friend. Someone who's there for him longer than one night.
He jumped, his day dream broken, as a hand came down on his shoulder. He bit his lip hard, accidentally, as the hand touched him.
He tasted a bit of blood from his lower lip and yelled out.
"Ah! Don't startle me like that, I mean for Pete's sake John, I..."
"Who's Pete? Someone I should know about?" John batted his eyelashes
George licked his lip and gave John such a look that John replied with a frown, sarcastic one of course. George wondered how he could stay so good natured, seeing as none of them have slept in about week. Now they were off now to a press meeting, hungry and exhausted and George, for one, was cranky and couldn't even bring himself to smile.
"Aw, hey mister, don't get upset. You looked a little down, I thought a nice comforting hand on the ol' shoulder would bring you up, is all. You look tense, want a massage? Hm?"
George shrugged John's hand off and looked back out the window. John's face softened.
"Look," he started, "I know we're all a bit tired and grumpy but after this, we can go to the hotel and sleep, huh? We can order food right to the room and relax, how 'bout it? That party isn't until tonight, we don't have to be out until 7."
He didn't want to go to any party, he thought. Fine wine and dancing was all right, but just about every night? Lay off it, he was tired and it was a Wednesday night. Why can't they push it to the weekend?
When George didn't respond, John gave him one more look, half of disapproval and half of concern, looked back out his window and lit a cigarette. The weather and all around atmosphere had drained the boys. As George peeked around the limousine from the corner of his eye, he saw Paul and Ringo had their heads thrown back and their mouths open, dead asleep. He thought about doing the same, but they'd be at their destination in less than 30 minutes anyway, and John would never let him sleep. He leaned his head against the window once more and ran his tongue over the dried blood on his lip. It was going to be a long day.
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