All a Misunderstanding, Right?

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Just as the lads were getting a new album out, one that would change the face of music, John has to go and muck it all up. We had all learned a long time ago to meticulously plan what you're going to say during an interview. Reporters could, and would, take anything and everything out of context. It was all a publicity stunt.

Ellen and Brian had grilled us several times on how to handle reporters. We knew what was right and wrong to say, how to say it, and when it was appropriate. While they couldn't keep us from being cheeky bastards, they could keep us from ruining our careers.

In John's case, it was nearly impossible.

Molly insisted we walk to the studio. She claimed the weather was so nice, even though there was still ice on the ground, we might as well enjoy it. Spring was fast approaching and the world was beginning to look it. Snow had stopped falling, trees were beginning to get their leaves, and it was not quite as cold as it once was. The three of us were shivering as we made our way down the streets, but we weren't covered in ice.

"It's bloody cold," I complained.

Molly rolled her eyes, "It's not that bad, Melly."

"I can't wait for Spring," I muttered, "I've almost forgotten what warmth is."

"Quit being so melodramatic."

"I can't, it's who I am."

I grinned, causing Molly to laugh. Vera giggled in her stroller, thrashing her legs about and dropping her bear. Molly handed the baby back the bear she had come to adore. Ringo got her that bear and she had yet to let it go. When Molly and I couldn't sooth her, that bear could. It had a tiny apple in it's mouth, earning it the name Applebaum. 

"Didja get the papers?" Molly asked.

I shuffled in the backpack on Vera's stroller and nodded, "Yeah, all six."

"We'll get a new album out in no time."

"I dunno, Mols," I shrugged, "We've got some complicated stuff here."

"And entire orchestra is not complicated."

I simply stared at her until she furrowed her brow, "Okay, maybe it's a bit complicated, but we can do it. Mitch knows people."

I shook my head and chuckled. Molly was muttering something under her breath about violins, cellos, and a piano. Piano and violins would be easy, we all knew how to play the piano and I knew the violin. Cello would be more difficult. If we wanted a full orchestra, we would need several people playing several different instruments. Flutes, trumpets, tubas, and more all went into making the perfect orchestra.

"Wonder if we could get Georgie to play the sitar for us," Molly wondered out loud.

"You want a bloody sitar?" I asked, "The lads barely pulled it off, how could we?"

Molly shrugged, "Feminine charm?"

"You and I both know you're the only one with that."

"Ah, but that's why you fell for me in the first place," she whispered, blinking up at me with a smile.

"You're not wrong."

She laughed, bumping her shoulder into mine. I had to resist the urge to kiss her right then and there. We were out in the open, anyone could see us and we would be toast. Instead, I resorted to biting my lip and mentally warning myself not to do it. 

Whenever we rounded the corner and the studio came into sight, Molly and I both froze. The front door was being hounded by reporters from every newspaper, magazine, tabloid, and radio station in the hemisphere. They were banging on the door and shouting various names, asking for photos and comments.

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