My eyes immediately landed on a highly intoxicated George Harrison, whose mouth was rapidly moving as he babbled away to John, gesturing wildly with his hands. Beside him, though, John didn't look nearly as drunk as his friend, he looked a bit amused, though.
Sure, I wasn't exactly thrilled by either of those things, but I was perfectly capable of handling both drunk lads on my own without causing much of a spectacle. What I couldn't handle, however, was the sight of the other woman who had draped herself casually across *my* boyfriend, she was sprawled across his lap and everything.
The woman was exactly George's type, which (oddly enough, seeing as I was his girlfriend) happened to be the complete opposite of me. She was tall, blonde, beautiful with gorgeous blue eyes and flawless skin - and the slut knew I was there.
How did I know that she knew I was there, you ask? That's easy. She looked straight at me and smirked before looking back to George.
The sight of that woman infuriated me, not just because I was jealous of her for throwing herself at my Georgie or because she made feel self conscious about my appearance, but because I knew who she was. She was Pattie Boyd, the woman who would become George's first wife, she was also George's ex girlfriend from the previous year, George had been out drowning himself in alcohol after their breakup until he had become so drunk that the pubs would not longer serve him, that was how he had discovered me standing alone and confused down a lane.
George didn't appear to be reacting to Pattie's advances, in fact, I wasn't entirely sure he even knew she was there, which had me feeling very smug.
My smugness quickly amounted into nothing but pure fury. The anger was boiling and bubbling up in the pit of my stomach, it spread throughout my body, scorching my throat and turning my vision to red. Why did I feel like that all of a sudden? I felt like that because *that whore was kissing my man.*
I wanted to hurt her. George was *my boyfriend.* Who did she think she was kissing him. My anger wasn't just for her, though, it also extended to George himself for allowing it to happen in the first place.
George remained frozen for a moment, shocked by the lip rape, his brown eyes wide and his thick, dark brow arched high in surprise. My anger towards George quickly faded, though, as I saw him realising what was going on, turning his head to the side, I saw him not-so-gently (although, to him in his drunk state, it may have seemed gentle) push her away. He swiped the back of his hand across his mouth and I stared at him, watching his lips form shapes and words, vigorously shaking his head as he seemingly told her off.
Her face flooded with colour and she bit her lower lip, turning her face away from him, her pretty, blue eyes filling with tears. I still wasn't happy, though, and I wouldn't be until I killed Pattie Boyd, or at least beat her up.
My body seemed to unfreeze itself, even though I hadn't realised that I was frozen in the first place, the relief that washed through me when George rejected her was unbelievable, I had never felt anything like it before in my life. Pattie still wasn't getting away with kissing George, though, and she (and anyone else, for that matter) would be sorely mistaken in thinking that I was going to just let this slide.
John, I could see was howling with mirth as he watched his very drunk friend scolding the beautiful girl before him. Neither man had noticed my presence which I felt was a good thing as they would be too shocked too immediately interfere and stop me from rearranging Pattie Boyd's pretty face for her.
Without even realising it, I was tearing across the pub, heading straight for the shame faced girl. Jumping on the taller girls back and grabbing a chunk of her straight, blonde hair, causing her to emit a startled, pain filled shriek, managed to grab the attention of both young men.
John and George both jumped at Pattie's shriek, turning to stare at us both, eyes widening in astonishment as my nails tore into the other girls face, leaving long, deep, angry, red scratches across her face, whilst I still tugged on her stupid, blonde hair with my other hand.
"...Charlene?" George questions, slowly, surprised to see me, shocked that I'm beating up his ex. "What the bloody hell do you think you are doing, Char?!" His voice was slurred, but it still managed to sound angry.
"Hello to you, too, George," I greeted, sarcastically. "What the bloody hell does it look like I'm doing?"
If George made any sort of reply, it was drowned out by a long, loud, high pitched, blood curdling scream from Pattie as I began driving a fist repeatedly into her face, whilst keeping the other hand in her hand. To be honest, I knew that if my hand wasn't in her hair, preventing her from protecting herself and fighting back, she probably could have kicked the shit out of me. Obviously, that's why I had my hand fisted in her hair near the roots.
I gave John a quick once over during my fight with Pattie and he seemed wholeheartedly entertained and not even slightly disapproving. I knew that taking encouragement from John was usually a bad idea, especially while he was drunk, but I took it anyway.
"Listen up, whore face, because I don't want to have to repeat myself; repeating myself makes me violent and trust me, honey, you do not want to see what I'm like when I'm violent," I laughed harshly. "George Harrison is *my man,* and I don't share what's mine with *you* or *anyone else* for that matter so in future keep your filthy, disease ridden lips and self away from *my boyfriend."*
After I had said my piece I planned to let her go and drag John and George home, forget all about Pattie Boyd and sort things out between George and I, but Pattie had to open her poisonous mouth.
"I can't and I won't do that, Charlene," she sneered, her blue eyes shining maliciously as she mocked me. "George was *my* man first, and what an *excellent* lover he was. You couldn't blame me for wanting him back, could you? I mean, you wanted him back."
My nostrils flared, angrily. How dare she speak about my Georgie like that? "What George and I have is different: it's real." I stated firmly, kicking her in the back of the knee in case she hadn't understood the first time.
"Yeah, yeah, that's what everyone says," she smirked, flippantly. "I always get what I want and in this case, I want George." She had barely gotten the words out of her mouth before I completely lost it.
I let go of her hair, freeing her to fight me back. I lunged at her, screaming as I did. "I'm going to kill you! I'm going to fucking kill you!"
Pattie screamed in terror as I tried to claw her eyes out, to frightened to try and defend herself. "Help! Somebody help me! She's mad! She's going to kill me!"
"That's enough, Charlene," George growled, placing his hands upon my shoulders and roughly yanking me back into his chest.
"Let go of me, George," I tried to struggle out of his tight grip.
"Charlene, just stop fighting me for once, would you?" He demanded, his voice becoming desperate. "Look, love, I know that I'm drunk, but I'm not too drunk too actually think that you'll get away with this. The police are probably already on the way."
"I don't care," I claimed, still struggling.
"Liar," John hissed, scooping me up in his arms, ignoring my shouts of protests. "Come on now, Georgie, we're going home now, lad. I don't know about you, but I don't feel like dealing with any police."
George, it appeared, felt like John and didn't want to deal with the police either. I couldn't do anything as John carried me out of the pub, George traipsing along by his side. I couldn't do anything besides swear at them both, which they ignored. We met Ringo coming out of a shop down the street, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.
When he was informed of what he had missed out on down at the pub he tutted, shook his head and sighed forlornly. "You're a lucky bloke, George."
"I agree with you, Ringo, mate," John nodded. "Who doesn't want to beautiful birds fighting over him?"
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Author's Note: Happy New Year, to you all.
I won't be uploading the next chapter until I get 5 votes and 3 comments. Sorry for the inconvenience, but I feel like my story's being neglected after all of the time, effort and energy I put into my writing, trust me, it's a lot.
