Dearest - George Harrison Fan Fiction - Beatles Fan Fiction

Epilogue - And I Will Set You Free

Annette had gone to bed early, but she couldn't sleep. She rested on her side, staring at the velvet ring box on top of her bedside table.

She questioned what she'd said to George yesterday evening. It had cost Annette her relationship. She wiped at the tears forming in her eyes.

She reached out, opening the drawer, placed the velvet box inside, and shut the drawer.

Annette climbed out of bed, moving quietly in the dark. She was mindful not to wake her sleeping parents.

She soundlessly walked by their closed bedroom door, through the living room, and into the kitchen.

She sat down at the table and picked up yesterday's paper. Her eyes immediately noticed the article on The Beatles.

She'd read it just the other day, but couldn't bring herself to read it again. She set down the paper, moving it off to the side.

George's words from a couple of days ago suddenly coming to mind.

"If you're saying goodbye, Annette. I can't hear it. I don't want to hear it."

He'd warned her, and she didn't listen. She felt that she'd made a mess of things, Annette's eyes welled up with tears again, and this time she let them fall.

(————)

George sipped on a bottle of pop, a sour expression on his tired face. D.C. wasn't any better than New York. It was worse in his opinion.

An incoming snowstorm caused all flights to be canceled, and they traveled by train to Washington. There hadn't been any downtime for George and his mates. The sleeper carriage was filled to the brim with the press.

It was impossible to avoid them. Microphones and cameras were thrust into their faces, capturing every moment aboard the train.

George wasn't in the mood for it, but he hid his irritation. It was an indication of what was to come.

That night at the Coliseum had been one mishap after another. From the moment they stepped on stage, they were pelted with jelly beans. After the press reported, the lads liked jelly babies, a soft coated English candy. The audience substituted those with the harder candy-coated jelly beans.

Performing in the round, surrounded on all four sides by the audience. The odd stage setup called for a rotation of the riser that Ringo and his drum kit were situated on, allowing for the audience behind them to watch the show. There'd been trouble with George's microphone, and the replacement one he'd been given wasn't much better. The show went on as it always did with the hysterical audience not minding the minor hiccups throughout the set.

After the show, their obligation as the Beatles wasn't over. They made an appearance at the British Embassy.

It wasn't the boys' scene, rubbing elbows with stiff posh types. When someone boldly cut a lock of Ringo's hair, that had been the last straw for the Beatles. Much to Brian's embarrassment, the four of them walked out of the event.

They returned to their hotel and had a late dinner. George didn't have much of an appetite. He excused himself and retired to his room. He was still wearing his stage suit sans the Cuban-heeled ankle boots.

Resting against the headboard, finishing off his Coke. George continued to hold the empty bottle, absentmindedly running his thumb over the top.

He wanted to phone Annette, tell her about the horrible time he had. They'd laugh. George knew she'd find a way to make him see the humor in the situation.

He didn't have that anymore, and he wondered if he ever truly did.