Believe In Yesterday (Beatles Fan-fiction)

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da

YOU GUYS. This is the most catchy song out there. I sing it in the shower all the time and the lyrics creep my brother out. But it is genius, and glorious. And updating is really hard for me because I'm always lazy and write now I want to pass out but it's only seven. 

IMPORTANT! : I'm going to twist time and make them stay in New York longer than usual. Makes it easier for writing. I should just make a McLennon fanfic because that would be so much easier, they were with each other all the time, 

And this is dedicated to SaratheBeatleslover because I like her stories, A lot.

"So, how long are you guys staying," I asked Paul as we walked down the streets of New York City. They were all in what they call disguises. To me though, I could probably recognize them twenty feet away being the huge fan girl I am. John was wearing a familiar hat that I have seen him wear and pictures, and they all wore dark shaded sunglasses.

"Oh, a couple of weeks,"  Paul pondered in his head, giving me a small smile. I wanted to scold myself when my heart started beating faster, because no matter how hard I try, these four have made an impact on me that I can't shake off. 

When Ringo had given me a wide grin earlier, I felt as if I was going to pass out. But I don't think Sandra would like it very much if she found out I was crushing on her favorite Beatle also. Don't even get me started when John's hand skimmed mine. 

I liked Paul though, but I knew we were never going to be together, He seemed like a good friend though and that was good enough for me. I knew many girls would kill to be in the position I'm in, and come on, there are only four Beatles and how many girls in the world. 

"And what do you think of us? America I mean," I asked.

"I don't know why, but we were expecting something different, but it's just the same as back home. Listen to the same music and everything, and we were completely surprised to learn that one of our songs had made it the U.S. charts. It's just that you guys just talk funnier," he joked. I nudged him in the arm and he chuckled softly. 

The six of us, (Sandra was included) walked into a unfamiliar clothing store which was particularly small but Ringo had insisted that we go inside. While Sandra was intruiged by Ringo's small conversation, George and John talked about the band, and somewhat wished I were talking with them. But Paul was fun, too.

"Hey you guys," Ringo burst while giving a manical laugh, In his hand, he held out a hat, and much to my distate, had feathers on it. "Look at this!" He put on the hat, grinning broadly. "How do I look, stunning?" he asked John. 

"I could just kiss you," John said sarcastically.

We all shared laughs, and Sandra and I watched as the guys play dress up. The funny thing is I don't think they figured out that it was a women's clothing store. Ringo's hands were decked out with even more rings and Paul was trying on every single scarf in the store. 

I jumped when I heard something crash behind me. Turning around, I found a girl, around sixteen staring with saucer eyes at the four men. The four of them looked alarmed as well. The poor girl didn't even know what to say. 

I leaned in towards Paul who stared at the girl, as if trying to decipher her next move (A/N:Remember, there was that one fan who tried to mail herself to the Beatles and almost killed herself in the process. This is only minor fangirling). "I think you guys should restrict yourselves from talking. This is America after all." 

Grinning, Paul replied, "Maybe you should be a comedian, you sure act like one." 

I bowed. "I'll be here all year." 

"You have a great view of New York," exclaimed George as he looked out my window. It was true, I didn't get a very good veiw of the imortant stuff but it was still very pretty. I lived in one of the higher floors of the apartment, which made walking up the horiffic amout of stairs worth it. 

We were all in my apartment, except for Sandra anyways, she had to run a few errands. These guys were pretty persistant about hanging around me though, not that I was complaining or anything. It was really weird though, because honestly, seeing jesus in real life was more believable that the fact the the Beatles want to hang out with me.

I smiled at the veiw. "I know, that's what makes this apartment so amazing. I'm surprised I got it for the price I did."

It wasn't a very big apartment, but whether the less I was still proud of it. I had some of my mothers old furniture before she died. What I admired the most was her china collection, which my father would have sold if I hadn't smuggled it. 

"What do you do?" George asked.

"I'm a waitress," I replied. I know, it sound like a boring life, but it was actually quite fun. I loved my job very much and the people there. That was how Sandra and I had met, because she was also a waitress. 

"That's fitting," he said, glancing at me.

Rubbing the back of my neck, I asked, "Am I suppose to take that offensively?" 

His eyes widened. "Wha- of course, not!" he said quickly. "Waitresses are cute, your cute." As if realizing what he was saying, his cheeks turned a crimson color and he hung his head. "I'm only embarrassing meself, aren't I?" 

I pinched his cheeks. "No it's cute, you're cute," I mocked him.

He scowled. "I wasn't thinking straight, never mention that again." I couldn't help but laugh at loud. His face was still red and he wasn't looking me in the eyes. He was so precious, I wish I could hug him. Like a teddy bear. 

"So how old are you?" Paul asked. 

"I'm twenty two," I said, raising an eyebrow. "What's with all the questions?" I asked.

Paul shrugged. "You're interesting," he said, as if that explained everything. I scrutinized him for a few seconds, contemplating on whether he was lying or not. Noticing my confused expression, he grinned. "It's true."

I snorted. "And you said I should be a comedian." 

"No, it's true," John voice cut through the air, surprising me. I was surprised because he didn't really talk to me as much as George or Paul did. He joked around and stuff but he just wasn't as easy to talk to.

Then it just occured to me that he though I was interesting. I knew he didn't like me in that way but to me that was everything. John Lennon actually fucking complemented me, well sort of. And the butterflies in my stomach says it all: I liked him. 

I knew that already though. In my eyes, he was the best looking guy out there, no matter how cute Paul's smile was. 

The worst part was, I didn't even stand a chance.

A/N:

Well tell me what you think of it guys, it's been a while since I've updated. but here it is! I'm so proud of myself. I've now experienced what it was like to have writers block, and it sucks, but then I found the perfect solution for it all to make sense. You guys, why is writing so hard though. Like the words are easy, it's just the fact that I don't want to and yet I have to. And does any of you have a tumblr, if you do send me a link, if you like the beatles, supernatural, dan howell, phil, or sherlock.

Hoped you liked it, have a good day... or night :D

Obladi, oblada life goes on bra! lala life goes on! THOSE ARE IMPORTANT LYRICS, 'KAY. Gif at the side of John agreeing that she doesn't have a chance. I'm such a realist. Sorry for the long An, I really like to talk.