all things must pass » the beatles, queen and the backstreet boys

12- Ringo Starr

His good looks were both incredibly striking and absolutely frightening.

To be quite honest, his short stature lessened the intimidating effect---nevertheless, he still looked as though he could smash my head against his drumkit, and watch me slowly cease to exist as he looks handsomely onward without a care in the world. It was quite alarming really.

The band were taking a quick 15-minute break, doing nothing but fooling around. Rory, naturally, attracted all the girls with his usual James Dean charm and charisma, clustering them all at the bar, and quite effortlessly he did it. With the other man sitting beside his girlfriend at the back of that group, it seemed that the drummer was the only one detached and faithful to his instrument even during the break.

Right in front of the stage I sat, I got the perfect view of him. Such sad, azure eyes set in his face, staring onwards seemingly challengingly as those chunky rings of his twinkled in the half-dead underground lights. His nose was prominent, but perhaps what most gave an impression of dominance was the immaculately trimmed facial hair, and that ominous grey streak in his otherwise luscious brown locks.

Soon enough I was pulled out of my trance with them resuming the show, and though my eyes kept trailing back to the stunning drummer of an unknown name, I lost myself to the good soul of rock and roll for another hour.

Shortly, the crowds trickled out; it must've been nearer to the 3 AM, because that was when the majority of the people at the club found it appropriate to end their night out. I myself, considered this far too late anyways, but couldn't help but follow the urge to stay behind.

Bit by bit, the noise lessened, until it indicated that we must've been a maximum of 10 people indoors, 6 of which were workers at the club. Taking that irreplaceable step forward, I approached the quiet beauty who fumbled with unplugging all amps on stage, not knowing whether he would snap my neck in two or not.

"Your show was amazing tonight," I shyly spoke, barely above a whisper, "As every other night."

He paused his ministrations, looking up at me with those melancholy deep eyes. And then, unexpectedly but to my delight, his face broke out into a full grin that showed nothing but absolute sweetness.

"Why, thank you, love," his voice was quite contrary to the rough scratch I expected it to be, instead a lovely baritone, "You must be a regular then," he said as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking at me through his eyelashes.

Blushing a little, I admitted, "Mainly for you though."

"Oh," he quietly said, sounding decently shocked, "For me?"

I nodded bashfully, "You're intriguing, even if I don't know your name," I lightly hinted.

"Richard Starkey," he took his right ringed hand out for me to shake, and I did so as tingles spread from even the lightest touch of his calloused skin against mine, "Me mates call me Ringo though."

"Can I call you Richie?" I asked hesitantly, before stating my name, "If you'd like to consider me a friend, I suppose."

He cocked his head a little, the sweet smile spreading on his face once more like an innocent schoolboy, and I truly wondered how a person with such a ray-of-sunshine personality could be hiding under such a hardened shell---and of course, it didn't go unnoticed that my hand was still held in his.

"May I please take you out to dinner?" he asked with bright red cheeks, "I'd like to take the first step to court you before some other bloke does."

"I'd love that, definitely," I bit my lip in an attempt to stop myself from squealing out loud.

"Let's meet here at 6 tomorrow, that alright, sweetheart?" he inched a little closer, and the proximity had me hitching my breath.

"Can't wait," I honestly said with a smile, as the sweet blue-eyed boy bent down to press the most tender of kisses on my hand, leaving me in a state of further amazement as I wonder what might be in store for me with this bundle of joy.

¤¤¤