ʟɪʟʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴀʟʟᴇʏ ! ʇɹɐǝɥ ɹǝɥ uᴉ lᴉʌǝp | GEORGE HARRISON

16| four of fish & finger pie

january, 1967

roxie awoke from her sleep with a jump. she had been dreaming of the beatles—as usual these days.

as her hearing cleared, she could hear the bright groovy phone on the wall in her bedroom ringing. she glanced at the clock beside her bed and winced. it was midnight. she wondered who could be calling so late in the night on a random tuesday. she swung her legs over the side of her bed, feverishly rubbing her eyes.

after a long work day of shooting for various brands in london, she desperately needed some rest in her own comfortable, large, inviting bed. she felt the shag carpet beneath her feet as she lazily walked over to her phone. she picked it up and was shocked when she heard the recognizable voice that belonged to paul himself.

"hullo? roxie? you there?" he shouted through the phone. in the background of the phone call, roxie could hear loud music coming through his end, along with shouts from john and ringo.

"paul? it's midnight... what are you calling me for?" roxie cleared her throat as she leaned against the wall.

paul laughed and seemed to shout something, words roxie didn't quite understand, to john maybe? "roxie, we need you here at the studio! when can you be here?" he bellowed, just loud enough over the sounds of piano and symphony in the background.

roxie sighed. she had just fallen asleep at barely eleven—but when else would a beatle be calling her, asking her to come down to the studio? she rubbed her temples, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep.

"can't this wait until the morning?" she pleaded, her voice tinged with exhaustion.

"sorry, but nope."

"okay, i'll be there in a half hour."

as she hung up the phone, roxie dashed around her house, throwing on some clothes and hastily fixing her hair. she went back to the phone on her wall and dialled a number she might as well have on speed dial.

"hello?" one of her best friends, mark, responded, almost as tired as her.

she explained the situation and the fact that she needed a ride to the studio as soon as he could be at her house. mark reluctantly agreed.

in a matter of minutes, she was out the door and into the freezing london night. the breeze flowed through her hair as she waited for mark to come pick her up.

roxie had been to the studio with the beatles a handful of times, but none of which occurred at twelve in the morning.

she found herself torn between excitement and fatigue as she settled into the passenger seat of mark's car, the engine roaring to life as they sped through the quiet streets of london towards the studio where beatles awaited her presence.

roxie took one look at mark's hair and burst into laughter. usually, it was combed perfectly and done with various gels and liquids, but tonight, it was free of all of that, unkempt. she had never seen his hair so curly and wild.

"fuck you, roxie. not everyone is blessed with looking perfect after just rolling out of bed," mark gestured to roxie's appearance.

her hair had been done in rollers before she went to sleep, but she decided to leave them in as she made her way to the studio, and she would take them out before going in. the boys would undoubtedly make fun of her if she showed up with them in. she wore a large fur coat, a brown sweater and loose corduroy pants, pairing the outfit with brown lace-up boots.