dust cluttered the empty indra club. john looked at the small stage, taking in where they'd performed every day since they got there.

"bloody dark in here, eh?" john shouted. the others were backstage. george just barely heard him over the amplifiers and feedback from the microphone. the band was preparing for that night, and a strange presence was felt in the air.

almost tension, for john. he couldn't stop thinking about telling molly, but he didn't want their friendship to be ruined. he knew she knew he knew she had a crush on him, but he just didn't want to embarrass her.

"john, get up here!" stuart called. "get'cher guitar, too!"

he sighed and hoisted himself up onto the stage, bumping and stepping on cords and stands. "watch it!" pete cried while john almost kicked his drum set off the stage. "what's gotten into you, lennon?"

he glared at him, trying to stay calm. "just a bit tired."

pete shrugged and grabbed the drums off the ground, handing him his guitar as he did. "where's george's friend, uh... millie?"

"it's molly," george remarked as he came into the stage between the two. "and she's out shopping." he adjusted his leather jacket and slicked up hair, being careful not to mess it up.

"with what money?" stuart asked, getting ready to let the owner know they were almost ready for a sound test.

george fixed himself once more, saying, "i gave her a few pounds,"

they all played a few notes on their instruments to make sure it sounded okay. the sounds of out of tuned guitars and bass filled the empty club. once they were done, they put their things down and rushed backstage as the club was about to open.

paul was in the back trying to find a new shirt because the one he had on had a giant pudding stain on it. "johnny, where's that one grey shirt?" he asked.

john pointed to a little grey thing on the floor, smiling. he surely didn't think paul would wear the sweaty thing, but he did.

"thanks!" paul closed the room door with a grin.

john shuddered and sat on a small wooden chair, stretching his fingers so they wouldn't cramp. pete and stuart joined paul in the dressing room, and george sat coyly next to him. "you nervous?" he asked him.

john shook his head. although he was quite excited, there was a hint of nervousness in him. he didn't want to admit it, but there was.

"nah..." he lied, lifting a cigarette to his mouth. "i've done this plenty of times,"

george chuckled and nodded with him. "yeah, me too,"

the air smelled like cigarettes and coffee, an unusual combo. molly's sudden fingers skimmed over the gruff hands of the guitarist, taking his hands.

"john, look what i got!" she brought a white dress up to her face, grinning widely. on the dress, there two words. two words that would forever change the course of history. it read, the beatles. "the man at the desk ran out of letters, so he just put this..." she told him. she'd gone to a tailor who made prints on shirts and dresses.

"the beatles?" paul came out of the dressing room with the dirty grey shirt on, looking between the two. "i thought we were the-"

"the beatles," john repeated. "we're the beatles now."

george spoke up, saying, "t's got a nice ring to it," he chuckled.

paul shrugged and looked at the dress. he took it in his hands and examined the new band name. it did sound pretty nice to him, so, he stuck with it.  he rushed pete and stuart out of the dressing room and showed them the dress. "new band name, boys,"

stuart scrunched his face in disgust, shaking his head. pete didn't seem to care, but he might've just been high. "no arguments, the club's open!" molly interjected. "get out there, boys! i'll be in the crowd... somewhere!"

they all said goodbye to her after she placed her bags full of clothes in their back rooms. she rushed back out there, stepping carefully past the already rowdy crowd.

she used her manners, excused herself and found a nice place where she could see them. a man next to her nudged against her, spilling his drink on the floor. "oh, i'm sorry!"

when he turned around, molly instantly recognized him. it was stick!

"you never called," he teased. "you still healthy?" he wiped the spilt beer off and listened to her answer.

"i should ask you the same," molly joked. when he didn't answer, she laughed, saying, "i'm here with my friends."

"the band?"

"the beatles," she exclaimed with excitement. "i helped come up with it." he nodded, obviously uninterested, but molly didn't notice. the lights became brighter as the band was announced as the beatles.

molly cheered and clapped for them as they played their normal songs, some of their own mixed in. stick and she danced the night away with no cares, making occasional conversation.

"you're eighteen now, huh?" he yelled, somehow having a new beer in hand.

"it's really been that long?" she thought. it'd already been so long since she last saw him.

george tried to spot her in the crowd, but with all the lights, he didn't get much of an advantage. at one point, he did see her talking to stick, cracking up over a silly joke he made.

a beer found molly's hand in the middle of one of their breaks, stick encouraging her to chug it. she had at least two or three beers from the time the guys got up on stage until they took a half-hour break.

the show started to get slower and slower as the night went on, the band taking short breaks between the performances. as it drew closer to eleven, molly could tell they were ready to have their first break.

paul was sweating up a storm, pete's face was smiling but his hands and they way they lazily strummed and bashed the drums said otherwise. george and john looked pretty happy, stuart looking high out of his mind.

stick cracked a dismissing joke about him, pointing out his dazed, lazy way of playing. she laughed and also noticed how his eyes were hazy.

"are you here with your college friends?"

"molly, i graduated in may," he quipped. molly, dumbfounded, laughed anyway. "college is such a fucking waste of time, don't do it."

"why?" she curiously asked, although she knew she would go to college no matter what at that point.

"the professors don't care about you, they just want to get paid. the other students are high all the time. you don't learn shit." he explained.

molly furrowed her eyebrows; stick seemed smart enough. why did he go to college in the first place?

then again, they were both pretty high at that point from all the others smoking there. a bit drunk, admittedly.

"should i quit med-school?"

without warning, stick started hysterically laughing. his hollers filled the echo-y club, him not caring if america heard him.

"definitely!"

molly took that with a grain of salt. what did he know about her life, anyways?

"but- but i wanna be a doctor..." she whined. "i-"

"doctor?" he roared with laughter once again. "the day you'll be a doctor, i'll be the-the fuckin' pope!"

molly scowled at him, hastily turning back to the stage and looking at john. he was coincidentally staring back at her at that moment, getting a blush and a smile from her.

when he saw her, he knew she was drunk. the look in her eyes was more lustful, seducing than the normal molly's. when she was drunk, you wouldn't want to be the wrong person around her. she'd holler at you to come nearer and then she'd try and grab your hair, sometimes even getting a chunk of it out. she had a great grip. john knew the normal molly from the drunk molly.

"quite med-school," stick advised her. "it'll be worth it, trust me."

she looked at him with worried eyes, her eyebrows knitting together in sadness. "i want- i have to... backstage... the guys," she stuttered.

stick understood and lead her to the back of the room, taking her around the stage and behind it. he talked his way out of getting kicked out by the drunk security guards, bypassing all of them with ease.

he took her into paul's bathroom, her slowly making her way to the toilet. it didn't take long before she was throwing up, stick patting her back and making sure her short blonde locks didn't get in her face.

it was nearly eleven forty-five now, and the band had just gotten offstage for their break. paul came bounding into his dressing room, coming in on the unsuspecting adults inside the dirty bathroom.

"what's—molly?" he cried. "what's wrong?" he crept into the bathroom and looked at her.

she was pale, out of sorts and sweaty.

"she's pissed, mate," stick said, being sober himself.

paul gave a short, "duh." and shoved him out of the way. "molls, it's me, paul... are you alright?"

she shook her head, silent tears falling down her cheeks as she threw up the vile substance some more. george came into the room and cringed at the scent of vomit mixed with sweat. he pinched his nose and wiped his forehead full of sweat off.

"what's with her?" he asked stick who was pitifully standing in the corner of the small room.

stick grinned. "she's shit-faced, can't you see?" he said sarcastically with his scouse accent.

george ignored him as he brought a cigarette up to his mouth, deeply inhaling the smoke and breathing out as paul stood behind molly who was puking her guts out. now, the room smelled of vomit, cigarette smoke and sweat. that only made molly puke more.

"george... stop... smoking!" she yelled in between holding back her vomit.

he coldly put it out and stepped out of the room. she released the final bit of it, flushing the toilet and lazily wiping her face afterwards.

she stopped hugging the toilet and turned to face paul. he looked down at her in disgust, and rightfully so. the only black dress she'd worn for three days was soaked in beer and puke, a horrible combination.

"c'mon, molly, take a sip of this," before she could even stand up, pete was in the room, handing her an unmarked bottle. "it'll sober you right up!"

she thanked him, getting to her knees and clutching paul's hand. with hooded eyelids, she took a swig of the special drink. it tasted delicious, maybe the best thing she had all night.

"thanks, pete..."

finally getting to her feet, still holding paul's hand, she still felt nauseous. "you okay?"

"yeah, yeah. you guys were great out there, by the way!" and she still wasn't sober. molly clung onto paul like bark on a tree until he finally got her off him on the ugly green couch backstage.

john was staring into an abyss of nothing until she was dropped beside him. he looked at her and chuckled.

it was so weird how such a goodie-two-shoes could turn into such a drunken mess with the right drinks.