Well, she was just seventeen,

You know what I mean,

And the way she looked,

Was way beyond compare. 

So how could I dance with another, 

When I saw her standing there?

I woke up to this lovely tune playing in the bedroom upstairs. Paul must have finished packing, and got bored. 

I got dressed and cleaned up quickly while Paul was occupied with his guitar. I went up to his room and knocked on his ajar door. 

"Oh, did I wake you up?" He said, setting down his guitar. 

"No, you didn't." I said. "That song is one of my favorites, by the way."

He smiled, and got up. "When are you turning seventeen, Elle?"

"What's the date?"

"Um...March 26th."

"Oh, well it's actually rather close then. My birthday is the tenth of April."

"We might just have to celebrate it." Paul said. 

"I think you just want an excuse to have a party." I said. He laughed. 

"By the way, did you need a suitcase for your things? We have to leave soon, so I figured that you might want something to hold your things." He rummaged through his dresser. "You're going to want to leave your coat out, though. It's cold outside." 

He handed me a small suitcase and I thanked him for it. I stuffed all of my things inside as Paul came running down the stairs. 

"We need to hurry," He said, tugging on his coat. I pulled on mine. 

He smiled as we ran out to the car. 

"Are you ready for a trip to London, Miss Sullivan?"

"Absolutely, Mr. McCartney."

Let's just say our encounter with fans was a lot like the one in the beginning of A Hard Day's Night.

Police were there to hold back the fans, but their barrier broke. I got separated from Paul, who I had mainly stuck with the whole time. But I felt someone grab my hand and pull me towards the train. It was Brian. 

"Can't leave you behind." He huffed, helping me on the train even though I was perfectly capable. 

The screams accompanied us as the train left for London.  

We found an empty compartment and sat down, the lads smiling and talking about the 'prettiest birds' they saw. Brian announced that he and some of the assistants would go for coffee in the dining car. George told him to bring something back for him. 

"Did you see the bird with the curly hair?"

"She was beautiful."

This conversation lasted a good twenty minutes, and I was horribly bored. I noticed that Ringo was tapping on his legs, mouthing beats while playing rhythms. 

"Practicing?" I asked, in a lower tone.

"I, um, well..." Ringo mumbled. 

"Are you normally this articulate?" I teased, which made him smile. 

"I guess I just miss my drums." He said. 

"Ringo, quit playing with yourself and come get some coffee with me." John said, getting up. Paul and George laughed. They too mocked him. I felt bad about that. 

Ringo left with John, leaving me with Paul and George. They were talking quietly for a few minutes, but then Paul leaned over and asked me: "Doing alright?"

"Why do you do that to Ringo? He's a sensitive person." I whispered. I didn't like standing up to Paul, but I felt like I was the only one who noticed that Ringo looked saddened. 

"Ah, he's Ringo. He'll get over it." Paul said, shrugging it off. 

A employee came by and stamped the tickets Brian gave us. Paul and George were smoking cigarettes and he demanded that we take them out into the hallway. 

I had to hide my laughter because this was just like the scene in A Hard Day's Night with the man who rode the train regularly, twice a week. Paul was quite sassy with him, but the man told him not to be 'cheeky'.

George was the first one to return, and he sat down across from me. We talked quietly for a few minutes. He was a sweet boy, and it was nice to hold a conversation. He was also a little shy, which was really cute. 

John and Ringo returned a few minutes later. They were talking about 'birds' (again.) This conversation lasted even longer than the other. Finally, I spoke up. 

"Is this all you guys talk about? Birds?" That sounded weird coming out of my mouth. "Don't you ever talk about sports or something?" I asked. 

John turned to me, his chocolate eyes sparkled mischievously. "Well, we could talk about...whatever you are."

The lads tried hard to hide their laughter. 

"Arse." I snapped. The boys laughed hard at the expression on John's face. He obviously wasn't used to being insulted. 

"Well, aren't you a cheeky one, Elle?" He said, mocking my American accent. 

I smirked at him, and then looked out the window at the visions racing by. I knew that he would occasionally make a face at me, for I could see him out of the corner of my eye and hear the lads' laughter. 

So when he wasn't looking at me, I made a grotesque face at him. 

He never saw it too, which was the best part. 

We pulled into the station in the afternoon, and the lads had the night to relax until the next day. 

At least that's what they thought. 

But then we got attacked by fans at the station. 

I was separated from the lads again, and I ended up in the car with Brian and a few of the assistants. It was a bit awkward, because a few of the girls were pounding on our windows. 

This was something I, obviously, had never experienced before. 

Brian might have sensed my discomfort, because he leaned over and said, "We couldn't let the fans see you with Paul. It will make a nasty mess."

Well, that sounds like most celebrity relationships in the future. 

Brian thought Paul and I were dating. We really needed to coordinate our lies. 

"Oh, right, I guess that's the smart thing to do." I said, looking down at the ground. 

Luckily, the car ride wasn't long and we arrived at the hotel shortly. And I ended up staying in the hotel room with The Beatles. 

As soon as John entered the room, he walked straight into his bedroom, not speaking to anyone. He didn't come out for awhile. George went in and joined him a few minutes later. 

"He was stark quiet in the car. Well, he stopped talking after you called him an arse." Paul told me. I felt bad about snapping at John. I didn't think that one little word would upset him. 

And, after all, I was the one telling Paul to leave Ringo alone. 

"Do you think he's mad at me?" I whispered. 

"I wouldn't worry too much. We've all said worse things to him. He'll be teasing you again in no time." Paul reassured. I smiled slightly. 

Paul and Ringo were sitting around on the couch when Brian came into the room and handed us a sack of letters. 

"Work on these tonight. It'll give you something to do." He ordered. 

"But we're supposed to have some time off." 

"Don't argue with me, Paul." Brian turned to me. "Tell me if they cause trouble." I nodded. He left. 

I stood up, and hefted the sack onto the coffee table. "Come on," I said, motioning to them. "I'll help you."

Paul called for John and George to help. John didn't meet my eyes when he came out of the room. 

I went through the letters. Most of them said the same things, and it was a bit boring reading them. A lot of of "I love you so much, (Insert name here)!", "You're my idol!", and the occasionally sappy poem.

I would ever so often ask them a question from the letter. "Hey," I said. "What is your favorite type of clothing on a girl?"

The lads mumbled a little, but then they started to laugh hard. I awkwardly set the letter down and started reading another one. 

We finished the letter two and half hours later. We were exhausted, and my hands were cramping. 

Rubbing his eyes, Paul told me that I could take one of the beds. 

"You and Ringo should share it. You've got a show tomorrow; you need the rest. I'll take the couch." I argued. 

"I insist."

"You don't need to be a gentleman at this hour. Go to bed, Paul." I moaned, flopping down on the couch. I started rummaging through my suitcase, looking for my sweatshirt to wear to bed. It went down to mid-thigh, so I figured it was appropriate. 

He smirked. "Good night, Elle."

"Good night, Paul. Sleep well."

Once all of the lads were in their bedrooms, I went into the bathroom and changed. I promised myself that the next day I would take a shower, because I felt filthy.

I crawled onto the couch, finding a blanket there. Paul must have dropped by. 

Within minutes, I fell asleep. 

But a few hours later, I woke up abruptly. I don't know why I was yanked out of my slumber; it was silent in the apartment. And as tired as I was, I couldn't fall asleep. 

I decided to go out on the balcony and get a breath of fresh air. 

I wasn't the only one. 

I jumped a little when I saw that John was out here too. 

"Oh," I said, tugging down my sweatshirt slightly. "I'm sorry. I-I didn't know you were out here too."

"It's alright. I don't mind." He said, which surprised me. A lot.

I leaned on the balcony railing next to him. His brown hair was tousled, and he was still wearing his shirt and pants from today. He stared up at the stars. It wasn't cloudy tonight, so they were visible. It was beautiful. 

"Can't sleep?" I asked him. He smirked. 

"I've been up for hours. I can hear Ringo snoring from the other room." He said. I smiled. "And who would want to miss this?" He motioned to the sky. 

Bright are the stars that shine,

Dark is the sky,

I know this love of mine,

Will never die,

And I love her.

Never die.

Oh, John. 

Without warning, I threw my arms around him, pulling him close. He tensed and pushed me away from him. He looked confused. 

"What was that for, Elle?" He said. 

I felt tears sting my eyes as I thought about how young he was, and how much longer he had left to live. I was glad he couldn't see them in the darkness. 

"I...I'm sorry, John." I stuttered, trying to keep my voice from breaking. "I'm...I'm just afraid...that this whole, amazing thing...won't last long. I won't be able to see you again. All of you."

"Oh," He said, still a bit bewildered. "I've been thinking about that too. I guess you just need to...enjoy everything as it lasts." 

"Yeah," I replied, feeling embarrassed. "You're right, John." 

We were silent for a moment as we gazed up into the black sky. But then I broke it.

"I'm sorry for calling you an arse, John. I shouldn't have done that. It was horribly rude." I spilled. 

"It's alright." He said, his milky coffee eyes fixed on me. "It's the truth. I can be a real arse sometimes." He smiled a little, and so did I. 

"You don't like me, John." I said, speaking my mind for a moment. "You always seem to hate me."

"That's not true," He said. Somehow, we seemed to have gotten closer to each other. I kept tugging down my sweatshirt protectively. "I guess I'm just not good at meeting new people."

We were really close then, and I swear I heard his heart beat faster. His brown eyes were calm, and they twinkled in the darkness. Then something crazy happened. 

He closed his eyes, and leaned in. Time seemed to slow down.

I'm sorry, John.

 I broke the aura of silence between us by pulling away from him. He didn't look hurt. He just gazed back up at the stars again. 

"I, um, good night, John." I said. "Sleep well."

"Good night, Elle. Sleep well." 

I woke up later that morning, and John and Paul were in the living room reading the newspaper. I smiled at the thought of seeing John, until he said: "Morning, Animal."

Did he forget about last night? The quiet words, and the dancing stars? The almost-kiss?

A small part of me, a deep, dark part of me, desperately wanted to jump off of the couch and kiss him. It would have never admitted it to anyone. 

The rest of me glared at him. 

I untangled myself from the blankets, and said: "Do you mind if I take a shower and get cleaned up?"

John said: "Yes," when Paul said, "Not at all. Go ahead."

I hurried into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. Unfortunately, it didn't lock, so I ran back out to the living room, took the Do Not Disturb sign and hung it on the doorknob. 

John and Paul smirked. 

So, for about twenty minutes, I soaked myself, got cleaned, and made life decisions. Like most teenage girls do in the shower. 

I wrapped a towel around myself before I stepped out of the shower. The steam had fogged up the mirror, and the room was hot and sticky. 

It was then I noticed that my dress that I brought in with me was missing. I checked everywhere in the bathroom, when I heard a voice say, "Looking for this?"

John was standing in the doorway, holding my dress. An evil grin was plastered on his face. He turned on his heel and ran. I heard his laugh as he ran down the small hallway. 

"John Winston Lennon, give me back my clothes!" I shouted.

Well, if that wasn't a unique sentence, I don't know what was.

I wrapped another towel around myself, and, without hesitation, ran down the hallway after him. 

I think it took a minute for the other Beatles to figure out what was happening. Me, in two towels, still soaked to the bone, chasing around a laughing John as he waved my dress around like a banner. 

I bet it was most hilarious.

John and I were in a stalemate around the coffee table.

"Give it back, or so help me, John Lennon, I'll..."

"You'll what?" He teased. 

"Just give it back!"

"Never!"

Paul got up. I could tell he was trying not to laugh. 

"Come on, John. That's low." He said, snatching the dress from his hands. But he didn't give it back to me right away either. He started to play catch with John while I tried to jump up and grab it. 

Then, finally, one of The Beatles decided to help me. 

George shoved John out of the way, caught the dress, and handed it back to me. 

"For God's sakes, Elle." He teased. "Put some clothes on!" John and Paul sat down, disappointed that their fun was ruined. George spoke softly. "Sorry about that. I'll keep an eye on them. Go get dressed."

I tried to ignore John and Paul as much as I could that day, but that was a bit hard because Brian had introduced me to everyone as 'Paul's girl.'

I was more furious with John than anything. I just couldn't forget how he made me feel that night. It was like we were the only ones left in the world. His brown eyes shut out everything else. 

Why didn't I kiss him when I had the chance?

But now I didn't feel anything for him. 

Right?

I was silent in the car, until John said something about me that I had no desire to repeat, and I snapped. 

"I take back what I said last night. You are the biggest arse that has walked this earth." I sneered, causing all of the lads to look my way. 

John smirked. "Not like I haven't heard that before. It's best you just keep quiet, Elle. We can't afford any distractions." 

I was about to start busting some heads when Ringo said, "John. Elle. Enough."

I looked out the window, wishing for the John from last night to reappear.

Once we arrived at the venue in London, Brian suggested that I went with him because the crowds were frantic, and he was afraid I would get lost. But Paul decided to be a rebel and take me with him. 

There were guards and police men flooding the streets, trying to keep all of the screaming girls back. The lads smiled and waved to them, but walked quickly because everyone knew that they couldn't stick around long. 

We made it inside, and were immediately directed to the dressing rooms. A few of the female assistants gave me a few suspicious looks. I can't believe that everyone thought Paul's lie was true. 

I felt John's eyes on me several times during the day, but I ignored him, pretending to be interested in something in the opposite direction. Occasionally Paul would try to talk to me, but I was still frustrated with him too.

After they finished practicing three songs, they came back and I said quietly to him: "Good job."

"Thanks, Elle." Paul said. I didn't necessarily love the fact that he chose to stand about eight inches away from my face. He smiled. "Give us a kiss."

"What?" 

"Give me a kiss."

"How about no?"

"Come on, Elle. It's for the show."

"Nope, sorry, Paul. I don't kiss strange men."

He pouted, but then kissed me on the cheek instead. I thought I saw John leave into one of the rooms backstage. 

John was a mystery to me. 

The rehearsal flew by, and soon it was night and the show was going on. The lads were fabulous, as per usual, and the fans went crazy over them. Ringo kept looking over at us, and I would make a silly face to keep him smiling. 

The show went fast, and the lads gave a bow and the curtain dropped. 

They came backstage and everyone smiled. Once the set was torn down and the instruments were put away, we got in a car heading back to the hotel. Just me and The Beatles. 

"You were amazing tonight. Good job." I told them.

"Thank you, Elle." George said. 

Ringo and I continued to make faces at each other on the way home, trying to make each other laugh first. The lads looked at us like we were insane. 

Which, I suppose I could have been. I was in 1963 with The Beatles. 

The car ride was quiet. The lads practically whispered to each other, and John didn't speak at all. I had no idea what was going on between him and I, but I wasn't about to ask him about it. 

The Beatles wanted to go out that night, but Brian told them to stay. He also told me not to be afraid to tattle if they left. 

So, instead they ordered drinks from room service and sat around, playing cards. 

A few times the lads acknowledged me, but otherwise they were caught up in their jokes and games. Meanwhile, I laid on the couch reading the newspaper. It was interesting reading about things that would end up in my history books. 

"Hey, Elle!" John slurred. "Come sing for us!"

"Yeah, come sing for us!"

The lads agreed. I tried to think of something to sing. 

"You want me to?" I said, standing up. 

"And dance on the table." Paul suggested. 

"Um...no."

"Aw. Please, Elle."

"No."

He was about to say something else, but then I started to sing.

All of my love,

All of my kissin'

You don't know what you've been a-missin'

Oh boy, when you're with me,

Oh boy, the world can see,

That you were meant for me.

All of my life I've been a-waitin'

Tonight there'll be no hesitating,

Oh boy, when you're with me,

Oh boy, the world can see,

That you were meant for me.

The Beatles were smiling and clapping along. Then John lifted me up on the table, almost falling down in the process. 

"I'm not dancing." I told him. 

"Well, then keep singing!"

I smiled and kept singing for them. 

Stars appear and shadows are falling,

You can hear my heart a-callin'

A little bit a-lovin' makes everything right,

I'm going to see my baby tonight

I spun around on the table, making the lads laugh and smile. "Is that what you wanted?" I asked John. He said something I don't want to repeat, but it made me blush horribly.

All of my love,

All of my kissin'

You don't know what you've been a-missin'

Oh boy, when you're with me,

Oh boy, the world can see, 

That you're were meant for me.

George helped me down from the table, because he was probably the most sober out of all of them. 

"You're a good dancer." He said, quietly. I laughed. 

"That wasn't dancing."

It was about ten o'clock when the lads started to fall asleep in their chairs. I figured that they would be more comfortable in bed when they woke up with massive headaches. I tried to help them walk. 

I helped John first. I wrapped his arm around my shoulders to support his weight, but it wasn't easy. Especially because his hand kept wandering down to my rear end, and I had to drape it across my shoulders again. 

We were walking across the hall when John asked me, with a little kid's innocence, "Elle, do you hate me?"

"Sometimes, John. Today was a bit...much."

"I'm sorry, Elle. I embarrassed you."

"Just, please, don't do it again."

Without a moment's hesitation, John stated: "I like you a lot, Elle. You're nice...and funny. I'm sorry that I was such a jerk to you."

Well, you know what they say. Alcohol goes in, the truth comes out.

"You said it."

We finally made it to the bedroom, and he practically fell on the bed. 

I piled George and Ringo in the other bedroom, and I helped Paul last. He fell into me twice, and slurred, "Sorry, Elle."

"You are not going to be happy in the morning, Paul."

I helped him lay next to John, who was sound asleep by then. 

"Elle?" Paul groaned. 

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry about today."

"Don't do it again."

He nodded, his dark hair flopping around on his head. "'Night, Elle."

"'Night, Paul."

I went back to the living room. George was still awake, but barely. 

"Sleep well, George." I said, knowing tomorrow will be horrible for them.

"You too." 

I didn't bother changing clothes that night; I just crawled into bed. And in a matter of minutes, I was asleep.