I Want to Tell You [Beatles Fan-Fiction]

One

"Today is the day." Amber grins, taking her hair out of its ponytail and letting fall onto her shoulders. "Today is the day I finally get to see them!"

She double-checked her calendar, just to make sure. Yes, it was the day. On this Saturday in January, 1964, she would get to go to her very first concert. A Beatles concert, to be exact.

Amber looked at herself in the mirror, she had to wear something absolutely perfect.

The night before, she had rooted through her closet and wardrobe, searching for the perfect thing. Now lying on her bed was her two choices.

"Hey Kimmy! Which do you think I should wear?" Amber's best friend comes into the room, yawning. She's just gotten out of the shower, so she towel-dries her hair while looking over the choices. She had spent the night, because they'd be attending the concert together.

"Why are you asking me? You're the fashion expert." She says, fingering the fabric of the dress.

"I know, but do you think a dress would be too fancy? Too overdone?"

Kim shrugs. "I'm just going to wear jeans."

Amber looks at the outfit next to the dress. Jeans, and a black sweater.

Kim walks over to the window and looks out. "Just think. In a few hours, we'll be watching a Beatles concert!"

"I know right! It's almost seems to good to be true..." Amber says as she slips the sweater over her head.

"But it is true." Kim grins wide.

"We need to find you something to wear." Amber takes Kim's hand and pulls her to the overnight bag on the floor. She looks through all of it, then finally pulls out jeans and a simple cream colored top.

They both stand in front of the mirror, doing each other's hair.

"I bet John is going to think you're sexy." Amber giggles.

"Like he would ever look at me. First, I'm 19 and he's 23. Second, he would never think I'm pretty. Imagine all the gorgeous girls he's met."

"Aww, c'mon. You can't possibly think that. You're really pretty, and he would be lucky to have you. And a girl can dream, can't she? Like I dream about Paul..." Amber sighs dramatically.

"I personally think you'd be better with George." Kimberly says as she puts thin braids throughout Amber's short purple hair.

"An why's that?"

"Because you need someone calm and quiet in your life. You're rather crazy. The first time we met, when you moved to England, I was scared of you."

Amber laughs. "Because I was a purple-haired, green eyed American who was playing an electric guitar in the park? Who wasn't a little scared of me at first?"

"True, true." Kim chuckles.

Once Kim is finished with Amber's hair, they look at themselves in the full length mirror. "Does this make me look pale?" Amber asks, looking at her hand compared to the black sweater.

"You are pale." Kim says.

Amber punches her in the shoulder. "Shut up."

Amber looks at the clock. "11am. When does it start?"

"Umm... " Kim gets her ticket out of her bag and inspects it. "4pm. What should we do until then?"

"Call Mari and see if she wants to jam a little?" Marilyn was there other best friend, and last member of their band.