Where The Rain Gets In || McLennon + Starrison

An Afternoon In Hamburg

It was a lovely afternoon in Hamburg, Germany. It's mid-autumn, a cool, chilling breeze flowed around outside as people walk down the sidewalks. And as you follow down the road, you'll get to Paul-Roosen street, at which the Beatles were hidden behind a cinema screen.

Inside the Bambi Kino, there was a storeroom that held two bunk beds but contained five men. Now, you can already tell what sort of situation these band members were in. They slept right next to the loo, that constantly left a horrid smell. But to be honest, it was a bit better than sleeping on small, leather seats at a club which they used to work at: the Indra Club.

The Beatles have only been in Germany for around a month, and already they lost a job due to being too loud, thus the club being shut down. So, they got gigs at a different club, The Kaiserkeller.

The experience at The Kaiserkeller was about the same as it was at the Indra Club. Tons of breakout fights, hours of playing music, but one thing was different; a well-known band, possibly known as the best band in the area, Rory Storm and the Hurricanes were performing at the exact same place. This led to some jealousy and anger, hearing that the Hurricanes got paid more while they only had to play for 90 minutes, as for the Beatles doing hours on end.

This is where they were stuck. At a club with a stage made of beer crates, sleeping in a poor-conditioned cinema. They only hoped things could escalate from there.

••••
That afternoon, there in the small storeroom was George Harrison peacefully sleeping. He might not have been getting the best sleep he's had in days, but he would get sleep at any chance he got.

And as the little boy silently snored, John Lennon with a devilish grin creeps up to his bed, staring down at George as he slept. There, John held a pillow ready to smack him awake.

George snuggled his face into his pillow, his mind far from reality as possible. Fast asleep, too deep into a dream to notice someone standing over him. But before he could carry on with his dream—

George's POV

W H A C K

"Get up!" John cackled as he instantly whacked me in the head.

"Argh! What the hell, mate?!" I yell at him and sit up.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead." He throws the pillow back onto his own bed. "It's already the afternoon."

I groan in annoyance. "Oh piss off. I was having a good dream and you ruined it."

"Ah, and what might have ye been doing in that dream?" He sits down on floor. "Have ye met Brigitte Bardot yet?"

"God, I wish." I smirk and get up out of bed.

"One day, George. One day she'll be in our bloody crowd. I know it." John leans back against the wall. "Also, the others are gone eating breakfast. Ye wanna go join them?"

I softly nod, then shrug. "I'm not too hungry. I'm still hungover from last night, and I'd prefer not to have breakfast with the two drama queens. They're probably gossiping or something stupid like that." I say as I shake my head and run fingers through my hair.

John laughs a bit. "Probably. I already ate, I'm just waiting in here till we do our sound check for the evening... which isn't gonna be for a while."