The Beatles: A Mini-series

Ringo (1965)

"(Y/N), hurry up and bring your things in! It's getting late," your father yelled as you hauled more of your bags into the new house.
You sigh, wishing he wouldn't rush you. It was already bad enough you had to move away from your friends only months before graduating high school, not to mention all the way across the ocean. Yes, you and your American family moved to dingy old Liverpool, England because father couldn't refuse the job offer.
You almost stomp down the driveway to collect the rest of your things, tears in your eyes as you think about your friends, your old school, and the house you grew up in.
"Hey, need some help?" A stranger asks as you struggle with your bags.
You look up to find a cute, big-nosed man with a sort of funny haircut and the most beautiful blue eyes in existence watching you holding your stuff.
Dropping one of your bags, you exclaim, "Holy crap, you're Ringo!"
He chuckled. "Holy crap you're an American!"
You blushed. "Both statements are true."
He bent down and picked up your bag. "So, need some help?" He repeated, holding the lavender bag.
     You shook your head. "No thanks. My father wouldn't like it too much if you walked in."
   He nodded. "I see. Well, I live down the street. You should come visit me some time." He smiled as he pointed down the street to his house.
     You blushed. "S-sure. I'd love that."
    "Oh and one more thing. What's your name?"
     "(Y/N)"
    Ringo smiled again, and said, "(Y/N), that's beautiful. Try visiting me soon, okay?"
     You nodded and he walked off, a bounce to his step. You skipped to the front door, thinking that the move might not be so bad after all.