The Autograph : George Harrison x reader

Part 7

authors note : i love Pattie and Olivia too much to add them to this, so George's ex girlfriends name is janelle lol

I woke up the next morning feeling groggy. George wasn't next to me, As I got up and put on some shorts, I made my way towards the door. Suddenly, I caught snippets of a woman's voice, she sounded angry. I pressed my ear against the door, straining to catch the muffled voices on the other side. I heard the same woman's voice erupted in anger, lashing out at George, "How could you do this, George? You knew how much this relationship meant for MY future!" Her words echoed through the room, filled with hurt and frustration. George's voice cut through the tension, "Janelle, you need to leave." The intensity of their exchange made my heart race with anticipation. Lost in the moment, I didn't realize the door slowly creaking open until it was too late. I stumbled forward, caught off guard by the sudden movement. There she was—the same woman I had seen in the magazine with George, engaged in a heated argument. I couldn't help but blurt out, "What's happening here?" The girl's eyes met mine, and they were ablaze with fury.

"You!" she exclaimed, her finger pointing directly at me as she advanced closer. "You're the whore who took him away from me." Her words pierced through the air. George quickly rose from the couch, gripping her arm firmly. "Janelle, get out of my apartment and leave us alone ," he urged. She spun around to face him, her voice filled with rage as she screamed, "Get the fuck off me, George!" The tension in the room was discernible, and I stood there, unsure of what to do. She forcefully yanked her arm away from George and lunged at me. After that all I remember was falling back and blacking out.

I slowly open my eyes, feeling a bit disoriented and unsure of how much time has passed. And there, right in front of me, is George's face. I can see that he's been crying, his eyes swollen. He holds my face gently and tells me that I was out for a little bit. Then, with a laugh, he says, "She got you good., I ask him what happened. George starts to explain, telling me that his ex, Janelle, broke in using the spare key she never gave back. He heard the noise in the morning and woke up to investigate. And that's when he saw her. They started arguing, and she was furious that he had moved on already. George comforts me and assures me that he called the police, who promptly arrived and took Janelle away. I let out a sigh of relief, grateful for their intervention. I ask George, "How long was I out?" He responds, "Only about an hour." He plants a quick kiss on my forehead.

"Oh no, Georgie, don't we have to leave soon for the tour?" I ask, a hint of worry in my voice. George's expression drops as he realizes his mistake. "I completely forgot," he says, glancing at the clock. "We were supposed to meet them at the studio 15 minutes ago." Without wasting a second, he pulls me out of bed and I scramble to put on whatever clean clothes I can find. George frantically throws his clothes into a suitcase and grabs mine. Thankfully, I haven't unpacked my bag from last night. We rush out the door and quickly make our way to the car.

As the car sped through the streets, the wind whipped through my hair, and my heart raced with exhilaration. It felt as if time itself had been compressed, a fleeting moment of pure adrenaline before we arrived at the studio . And there, standing outside the studio building, were Paul, Ringo, and John. George emerged from the car, and Paul couldn't resist a jab at him, "It's about bloody time, George!" George groaned, "Let me be." George flung our bags into a waiting van, parked nearby. I turned to Ringo,, "So are we taking a plane?" Ringo chuckled heartily, shaking his head, "Nah, we stick to the trusty van for all our tours!" I gazed at the seemingly minuscule van, puzzled, "But how will we fit everyone and all the equipment in there?" Ringo's infectious grin spread across his face, "Who knows!"

John hops into the driver's seat, and George pipes up, "Hold on, I thought I was driving!" John, teases, "Oh yeah, George. I'll sit in the back with your girlfriend." George rolls his eyes, unamused, and takes the seat next to me. Meanwhile, Paul and Ringo are locked in a battle of rock, paper, scissors outside the van, fighting for the passenger seat . "HURRY THE FUCK UP!" John shouts impatiently. Finally, Ringo emerges victorious, raising his hands in triumph, and takes his place in the passenger seat. Paul squeezes in next to me, I find myself sandwiched between George and Paul in the middle seat. As we drove along, the band jammed out, with Ringo drumming on the dashboard using two random pens he found. I was hesitant to join in on the singing. I didn't want to disrupt their flow, so I contentedly hummed along, gazing out at the road ahead through the windshield. About an hour into our journey, the car sputtered and slowed down.

Paul exclaimed,  " What the fuck did you do, John?" John angrily hit the steering wheel "Were out of bloody gas!" He yelled. Paul buried his face in his hands, and George couldn't help but shout, "What the fuck, John?"  "What are we supposed to do now, John?" Ringo asks as if he doesn't have a clue what's going on. John, with a grin, responds, "I think you gotta get out of the car and beg for some gas, mate." Ringo shoots him a bewildered look. He opens the car door, stepping out onto the roadside. Meanwhile, Paul remains seated, his face still buried in his hands. George impatiently tapped his foot. Ringo stands there, holding his thumb out, desperately hoping that someone will come to our rescue and stop for us.