True To You

Chapter 19

George nearly dropped his phone when it suddenly started to ring. He was lucky that he hadn't, as he wasn't sure it would have survived the fall onto the hard, stone floor. Quickly, he glanced around to see if anyone was near, before disappearing into a dark corner.

It was a quiet evening in the club and he and Stuart had just gotten off stage with a moderate applause. Actually, they were lucky it wasn't that busy, as it seemed the changing weather had given half of the people terrible colds, leaving them unable to work for a while (being sneezed on wasn't exactly sexy). But with so people working, George knew he'd be alone here for a little while. Stuart had gone to get changed, John had been ordered by Brian to remain behind his bar and Paul and the other's were tending on everyone. No one had the time to pass by here for no reason, so he'd be alone for a while.

He nearly dropped his phone again, though, when he saw Ringo's name on the screen. He was calling him? Now? It had been almost two weeks since he and Ringo had fought and finally he had started to feel a little better about the whole thing. Why was he calling him now? After such a long time? He had almost given up the hope that Ringo would call him. Should he... answer?

His fingers trembled as he raised them to the screen, unsure and nervous. His heart was thumping in his chest almost painfully and he swallowed thickly as he accepted the call.

There was only silence on the other end of the line, and for a moment George thought Ringo had hung up alright, but then he heard someone curse softly.

"R-Ringo?" George asked carefully, unsure if this emotion he was feeling was nervous, anger, sadness, or happiness, maybe even relief. It remained quiet for a bit longer, save the light sound of someone breathing, irregular and in short breaths, as if the person was building up the courage to finally say something.

"Please..." Ringo's voice finally came, "Don't hang up. Please." George closed his eyes for a brief moment, only now realising how much he had missed the other man's voice, and how much it hurt to hear it so weak and frail, rather than the happy, joyous tone it used to have.

"G-George?"

"Yeah... I-I'm here. Sorry. I just... Why are you calling?"

"I wanted to call sooner, but... I wanted you to know that I am sorry." Ringo stammered, letting out a nervous chuckle before continuing, "I practised this so many times, but yet... now I'm finally talking to you, I can't remember what I wanted to say other than I'm sorry. I- I miss you."

George didn't know what to say to that. He glanced around the corridor again, to be sure there was no one listening and let himself slide down on the floor, letting himself rest with his back against the corner, his legs tugged in, his body curled up.

"I miss hearing your voice. I miss the calmness on your face when you're fast asleep. I miss your smile and they way you used to look at me. I miss our little texts. I miss sleeping next to you, waking up next to you, going to sleep next to you. I miss listening to you, hear you talk about anything that interests you. And god, I missed talking to you. And I'm sorry for everything I said. I shouldn't have lied to you. I should have been honest and discussed it with you. I- I really like you and I don't want to fuck up what we have, or had, or whatever, because of a stupid party."

"You- You don't get it do you?" George replied with a deep sigh, letting his head hang between his shoulder, looking down at the dirty floor on which he was sitting.

"W-what? I told you I was sorry." Ringo said rather forcefully through the phone, obviously not getting what George was going on about. Taking a deep breath, George rubbed his forehead, slowly feeling tears come up again.

"I don't care about your damn party, Ringo. It's more than you not telling me or not wanting me to work at the party. I understand that. I do. It's your party. It's just... I need to know if you're okay with me doing what I do."