"Cut! That's a print!" The director smiled, signalling that finally the boys had finished that scene.

I had been mindlessly biting my nails as I sat in a chair next to my uncle, finally realizing it once the director spoke, making me quickly retract my hand from my mouth. It was an awful nervous habit.

My uncle sat beside me in the directors chairs we had gotten from the same frightened young workers in charge of catering to The Beatles every need and want that we had seen earlier.

"I thought that was rather good." My uncle looked at me with an impressed look at the boys' work.

"Very." I nodded with an ecstatic smile. The scene was absolutely great, I thought the song was beautiful.

I couldn't help but notice the boys stealing glances at me playfully throughout the song as if they hadn't seen me in decades.However I was slightly disheartened to see how serious George remained throughout the entire scene, without a glance at all in my direction whatsoever.

I didn't let it affect the happy feeling in my chest, I hadn't watched them play together in such a long time.

I looked down at my watch and realized it was almost seven o'clock, it had been a long day since I had arrived here.

I stood up and fixed my black pants and black turtleneck.

"Poppy!" Paul called suddenly, motioning for me to go come over to him as someone was taking his bass away for him. I noticed that the crew's eyes all shifted to me, making me want to sink into the floorboards and disappear.

I apprehensively walked over to him looking back at my uncle once who was shooing me away elatedly.

I approached Paul with a small smile seeing the excited look in his eyes as he grinned back at me.

"John and I were going to go to the pub after we're done here, and I was wondering if you'd like to come with us, to catch up." He asked hopefully, an innocent grin spreading along his lips.

"Erm, sure, sounds great Paul." I smiled underneath his warm gaze.

"So, how have you been? How's art school?" Paul asked after catching himself staring at me.

"Oh I'm great, and, I mean, art school has been good, I'm not sure I was ready to up and leave so suddenly, but I'm here." I spoke with half of a smile sounding unsure of myself.

It was true that I really liked what I was doing back and Liverpool. Being here made me feel slightly out of place already, it was exactly the reason I hadn't come to London in the first place.

"So, what's up with you? I heard you moved in with Jane?" I asked, regaining excitement.

"Yeah," Paul's eyes gleamed. "Everything's been going great really," He blushed slightly, looking to his feet becoming flustered at my question.

The crashing noise of the cymbals made us both look over to the drum kit where John was whistling and walking away suspiciously from a fallen over crash cymbal with his hands intertwined behind his back. Ringo and George were snickering, John obviously having accidentally bumped into them.

"Hey John, I don't go messing about with your guitar do I?" Ringo laughed.

"Spoiled sport!" John yelled back as he walked off set nonchalantly.

"That was a reference to the movie." Paul clarified for me giggling, making me realize why everyone was laughing so hard at Ringo and John's exchange.

"John!" My uncle yelled, groaning with annoyance. He walked over to Paul and I and sighed heavily.

"Brian," I started sweetly, making Paul smirk knowing it was the voice I always used when I wanted something. My uncle looked at me curiously.

"Can I go out for a drink with Paul and John tonight?" I asked with a grin, hoping that he wouldn't treat like a child and make me stay in because we had work tomorrow.

His eyes flicked over to Paul for a moment then back at me with an unmoving straight face.

"I suppose so, yes." My uncle agreed hesitantly. I smiled and kissed his cheek happily.

"Thank you." I gushed, a happy feeling fluttering in my chest.

Paul grabbed onto my hand.

"Well we better be on our way then, I hear there's fans everywhere outside, we better be off before any more show up." Paul explained quickly. My uncle nodded understandingly as Paul began to pull me away, making me laugh like a madman.

"Have fun!" My uncle called as Paul tugged me towards a door out of the studio.

Paul lead me to their dressing room so he could grab his things.

"-well your just going to have to-" John spoke impatiently as we opened the door, his sentence immediately stopping as we walked in the room.

I noticed John had been talking irritatedly to George, although I tried to avoid looking at him. It's not like he was going to speak to me anyway.

"Hello." Paul greeted them uncomfortably, feeling the tension in the room. They mumbled hellos and Paul continued to a table his keys and wallet were sitting on and scooped them up swiftly. I stood at the door, running a hand through my hair as I kept my eyes glued to my feet.

"I'm walkin', yes indeed and I'm talkin'
About you and me, I'm hopin'
That you'll come back to me, yeah-yeah" John sang almost incomprehensibly in a low voice, trying to imitate Fats Domino as he ran a comb through his hair looking in the mirror. I looked up at him as he did so and watched with amusement.

"I'm lonely as I can be, I'm waitin'
For your company, I'm hopin'
That you'll come back to me." Paul continued in the same low voice, grabbing his coat and walking back over to me. I couldn't help but laugh at their ridiculousness, they knew how to put on a show even if they weren't trying.

"Ready to go then John?" Paul asked chuckling slightly.

"Yeah." John said flipping his hair one last time and walking over to the two of us.

The boys spoke their goodbyes and John, Paul and I began to walk to the building exit, bracing ourselves for the screams of fans that were faintly audible from the inside of the building.

"The others didn't want to come?" I asked the two of them, trying not to sound as curious as I was.

"They have a double date." John uttered quickly, shrugging, obviously trying not to get too far into the subject. I nodded becoming slightly downcast, my smile dropping from my face.

John opened the door for us and we exited to the parking lot, hearing girls scream beyond the barred fence.

"John! I love you!" I heard a girl yell over the rest of them, as she was broken down into tears.

"Paul! Marry me!" Another girl screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Subtlety at it's finest." I muttered trying not to smile. Paul and John laughed from either side of me as we walked to Paul's car.

"Who's that skag with them?" A girl hollered maliciously. I gulped suddenly becoming extremely self conscious.

"Don't listen to them, they say that to Jane and Cynthia as well, they don't know what they're talking about." Paul assured me, a worried expression settling across his face. I nodded trying to get out of my own head about it.

I didn't know it would hurt that much to be called a name by someone who didn't even know me, but it really stung.

"She's probably a prostitute." Another girl laughed. I looked at the gates seeing the little group of hecklers that were laughing at me between the other fans.

"Why don't the whole lot of you just piss off!" John growled at the hecklers making them become very sorry as the fans around them stared at the group in astonishment that John acknowledged them in such an angry manner. The group of hecklers pleaded desperately for John to forgive them as we got into the car. 

John sat in the back, letting me sit in the front seat with Paul.

"Thanks for that John." I blushed in embarrassment of the assumptions of the teens.

"They're ruthless, they need to be put in their place once and awhile." John said pulling out a cig from his pocket and putting it to his lips.

He realized his actions and quickly retracted the cig, staring at me with sorrow.

"It's alright John." I giggled at how ashamed he seemed of himself for even thinking of smoking with someone who has asthma in the car.

It really was okay if he smoked, I had my puffer and I didn't think my asthma was nearly as bad now as it had been, most of the time I barley even remembered I had asthma.

He looked at me for reassurance once more before placing it back and grabbing his lighter. I looked back to where Paul had just passed the gates of the studio and was struggling to get past the fans without running any over.

"Wow, the last I remember girls were running away from you lot." I smiled watching the girls screaming and crying.

Paul gave me a look and I heard John chuckle.

"Im joking, I'm joking." I laughed.

"You know I love you two." I smiled sweetly, batting my eyelashes. Paul reached over and pinched my cheek, half a smile appearing.

It was a short drive down to the pub, but it looked very high end compared to any pub I've ever gone to before.

"If you keep your mouth open any longer you might catch flies." John smiled at me as we came to a halt.

"Are you sure this is a pub?" I asked in amazement of how clean it looked, there were no people fighting outside or drunks sleeping it off outside, only a long line to get in, with only prim and proper looking people waiting patiently outside.

"Certain." Paul smiled at me in amusement.

"Gear." Was all I could utter, opening the door of the car.

We all got out of the car and made it onto the sidewalk. I started to walk to the back of the line until John grabbed my arm lightly.

"Where do you think you're going?" He laughed motioning for me to follow him as he released my arm.

I obeyed uneasily, noticing people staring at us.

"Hello." Paul grinned at the doorman in charge of letting people in and out.

The man immediately unclipped the velvet rope to let us inside without another word. I stared bewildered of how easily we'd been let inside, I suppose it was a perk to the boys' newfound fame.

The pub was sleek and pristine, with an immaculate collection of alcohol along the wall. I couldn't help but notice how the kinds of people I saw weren't the same as Liverpool pub goers, it seemed as if I had travelled to an alternate dimension.

"Let's grab a booth." Paul said pointing to a booth near the back corner. I nodded as we walked over all together, an unmoving grin on my lips.

We sat down John sitting across from Paul and I as almost instantly, a waitress coming over with some drinks for us, seeming to know well who the boys were.

"Oh I just remembered." I said fishing into my purse. The two of them watched curiously as I pulled out some letters their families wrote for them hoping I'd give them to them.

"Aunt Mimi," I read her name on the letter and handed it to John.

I looked through the stack seeing Ringo's mothers name, then letters from George's Mom and Dad, then Paul's father Jim.

"And father McCartney." I handed it to him contentedly, placing the other letters in my purse once again.

"I just talked to him this morning." Paul laughed as he opened the envelope in awe.

I shrugged with a smile as I took another large swing of the drink.

                        ____________

We spent a majority of the night talking about everything that's happened from when they left to now.

John and I had become increasingly intoxicated, although Paul stayed sober enough so he could drive us back.

"John," I giggled.

"What?" He looked at me, slurring.

"Remember that one time, the first day I met you lot, you got drunk and started singing Mr. Moonlight?" I cackled at the memory of it.

"It's a good song." John moped throwing back another shot.

"-I'd stay it's about time to get home." Paul looked at his watch and slid John's drink away from him, cutting him off. I huffed, my head resting on Paul's shoulder.

"But I'm having so much fun here." I grinned, slurring my words together, looking up at Paul's face.

"We have to go to work tomorrow." Paul reminded me, looking down at me.

"You sound like Brian." I giggled making him grin.

We got up from the booth, John and I groaning with displeasure.

Paul made sure I was walking ahead of him as we got out into the cool night air out the pub doors.

"Paul! John!" Someone yelled before snapping a photo of the three of us, a bright flash making me nearly jump.

"Sorry." Paul said lifting his hand to his face to block him from taking another, ignoring the reporters badgering questions, John did the same as we entered back into the car, the boys seeming unfazed by the small scene that took place.

The car ride was mostly silent, only the sound being John snoring lightly, filling the car with noise. I looked at Paul beside me.

"Jane's a lucky girl." I smiled before I even thought about the sentence. Paul laughed as he glanced over at me. My mind wandered to how kind Paul had been to me this whole day, I don't think anyone had been so happy to see me in awhile.

"I'm serious. You're very giving." I muttered looking down at my nails. I fought hard to keep tears in my eyes thinking about George suddenly through my other drunken thoughts.

He didn't even say one word to me today. I felt so hurt by him, and yet I didn't know why, it had been two whole years.

"What's wrong?" Paul said making me realized the tears silently spilt from my eyes.

"George didn't even say anything to me today." I shook my head, embarrassed of my sudden outburst.

"Poppy-" Paul began, sounding like he was pitying me.

"You've always been so kind to me. Thank you." Was all I said, not wanting to talk about it any more. He smiled wearily at me as I sighed and closed my eyes, I knew I was going to have a massive headache tomorrow and a few regrets, but all I wanted to do was sleep.