𝐘𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗚 𝐋𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦; george harrison

𝐯𝐢𝐢𝐢. an unexpected party

𝐓𝗛𝗘 𝐖𝗔𝗬 𝐘𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗚 𝐋𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝐃𝗢

. ݁₊ ⊹ . 🎞️⭒ ݁ .♟️⊹ ⁀ 🫙˖ ࣪ .🍂‧⁺ ݁₊ ⊹

( 𝐂𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗨𝗘𝗗 — 𝟏𝟗𝟔𝟎 )

THEY'D ARRIVED AT JÜRGEN AND VIRGINIA'S APPARTMENT WITH THEIR NOSES RED AND THEIR HAIR DRIPPING WET. virginia had then, in an almost motherly fashion, gotten a couple of towels for them to dry off and was now pouring a few drops of disinfectant on a clean paper towel.

"really i don't see the big deal, we'll be fine. ye don't need to do all this." paul told her honestly as she handed him her favourite (and only) portable mirror and the paper towel. "yeah yeah it's all fun and games until one of you gets a serious infection. my friend's cousin went to the hospital because of something like that. oh and paul, when you're done with the mirror, hand it over to john so that he can clean himself up to and so on."

he mumbled a reply she didn't quite catch and john only snickered. "ye aren't going to clean us up yerself?" he mockingly imitated her worried demeanour from back at the club, batting his lashes with his hands together. "fuck off lennon, you're a grown man are you not? or do you still need your mama to do everything for you?" she snarked back, not knowing why the beatle froze up and why his bandmates exchanged worried glances.

"erm, ginny, why don't ye put on a record for us is somethin'" paul said, abruptly changing the subject. virginia found it weird, definitely, but she chose to brush it off and just do as he'd asked. "sure." she smiled pleasantly, her eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion.

but still, she remained a little puzzled about her previous interaction as she flicked through her box of vinyl records absentmindedly. had she said something wrong? brought up a touchy subject? maybe she shouldn't have been so rude to john. though in reality, he was always pestering her, so it was only fair she'd be allowed to fire back.

suppressing a sigh, she picked out two albums and held them up in front of her friends. "alright so here we have wanda jackson by wanda jackson and brenda lee by, well, brenda lee." she grinned cheekily. "figured a little 'dance party' could be nice, hm?" she had chosen fun and upbeat albums for the sole purpose of trying to lift the mood, though it seems the boys had managed to do that themselves while she was off choosing them. suddenly, they were back to being their chummy and goofy selves, which was a great relief for virginia. 

"not to be rude or anything but i'm pretty sure we'd wreck ye flat if we all started dancing in here." george spoke up with a cocky grin. "and we all know ye don't have the best reputation when it comes to apartment maintenance."

"hahaha very funny george." she rolled her eyes, giving him an unamused look. "so anyways what'll it be?" she held up one album and then the other. "i vote wanda jackson!" astrid held up the beer she'd gotten from their fridge, most likely without asking.

"wanda jackson it is." she grinned before hurrying over to the record player. she fit the vinyl onto its platter and carefully placed the little stick (or whatever people called it) down. she didn't know if that's what it was actually called, but her brother had started saying it like that when he was little and then her whole family had picked it up.

soon, music began to fill the room, and while some of the beatles were still busy cleaning themselves up like virginia had practically ordered them to, the others were up and dancing along with the german trio. beers had been opened and everyone was loosening up again.