𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 | george harrison

two

"holy shit." i said, with emphasis on each syllable. "were you sky high on an acid trip when you designed this?" i questioned, my eyes focusing on every colorful object on the bus other than the man i was speaking to.

"surprisingly, no. this whole cluster fuck of a tour was the work of macca, over here." john remarked, slapping a hand on paul's shoulder.

"piss off, lennon." he scoffed, making his way to the alcohol cabinet.
with good reason, i thought.

"can i get you a drink, love?" paul asked.

just as i was about to decline the offer, a fourth man groggily stumbled out from the curtains where i'm assuming their beds were.

"for fucks sake. we agreed, nobody else comes on this bus. who brought a bird?" the mystery man asked.

"george," ringo started.

"excuse me? if you want to know who i am, ask me to my face. i'm not some bird who begged to be here. trust me, uh, george? that's your name? right. george, i don't want to be here either. but unfortunately, my car is being towed on the back of this eyesore of a vehicle and i have absolutely no other option right now. so how about, until we both get what we want, you refer to me by my name, yeah?" i smiled cheekily as all four boys stood in silence.

"well! harrison just got his ass handed to him by a b-" ringo caught himself. "by michelle."

john laughed, his face reddening by the second. paul giggled quietly to himself as he continued to pour drinks.

"very well." george finally got out with pursed lips.
before i got the chance to say anything else, he walked back behind the curtains where he emerged from minutes earlier.

"what's his deal? really, where does he get off being such an arse?" i asked, turning my attention back to the three boys who were enjoying my company.

"truthfully, i've never seen any girl speak to him like that. they're almost always begging for his attention, climbing on his lap,"

"it's a disgusting spectacle." ringo finished paul's sentence before he could.

"as much as i'd love to gab about geo's sex life and michelle's lack of a sex life,"

"hey!" i squeaked, interrupting john.

"i think i'd rather go to bed." he finished, flashing me a toothy smile and raising his brows dramatically. "you can sleep with me, if you wanna fix that, chelley."

"it's michelle. and no thank you. i will not be sleeping on this bus."

"what'd you mean?" paul asked, seemingly to be genuinely concerned.

"use your head, macca! of course she doesn't wanna sleep on this bus. she's a very cute girl who's already acquired an enemy and two men who seem to be eager to shag." ringo defended me, i was definitely starting to feel bad for almost blinding the fellow.

"well, yeah. i am a very cute girl who is very protective of her body. therefore, i will be... uh," my eyes darted around looking for something to occupy my attention. i plopped onto the light orange leather couch and picked up the puzzle book. "crosswords!" i held it up next to my face, smiling.

"you sure are an odd one, chelley."
john scoffed.

i sat with my legs folded under me as i watched the night sky through the window. the lads had all gone to bed, it was me and their driver, ernie. of course, he didn't like me too much.
"we don't need any more people." he said, repeatedly.
as he mumbled to himself, i got up with the urge to use the loo. i hadn't had the opportunity to see much of the bus for myself yet considering the only tour i received was john pointing to a large wooden chest and saying, "that's mine, don't open it."

i have to open that at some point.

i made my way past the bunks, all the way to back where a large pink door with a toilet painted on it stood tall. i looked closer, seeing the painting was the handy work of ringo due to his signature right along the seat. i laughed to myself, opening the door.

"HEY," a man yelped from inside.

"WHAT?!" i exclaimed, covering my eyes out of reflex.

"don't you KNOCK? jesus, michelle!"

i lowered my hands slowly only to reveal george standing there with shaving cream all over his face and the only article of clothing being his boxer shorts.

"oh... forgive me. i had assumed you were all asleep i uh," i nervously jammed a piece of hair behind my ear. "i guess not."

he rolled his eyes and got back to what he was doing. surprised he hadn't kicked me out, i decided to sit on the edge of the small bathtub. i crossed my legs and watched what he was doing. he seemed fairly focused, up until he noticed me in the mirror.

"what? did you come in here to yell at me again?" he asked, finally breaking the silence.

"listen, i'm actually quite the cheerful person. i know it certainly doesn't seem like it, but recently my life has been one bad card after the other. just today my car broke down and my best friend decided her sex life is a higher priority than my," i stopped for a moment, realizing this was way more information than he needed.
"i apologize for snapping at you." i finished.

just like before, he waited a couple minutes before speaking up. with his back still facing me, he asked, "like what?"

"huh?"

"like what? you said your life has been a series of bad events recently, so what exactly turned you from joyful to constantly irritable?" he asked, now shaving the hair on his upper lip.

"i am not constantly irritable. and it's a long story. it's just... well it's a lot."

"lucky for you, i'm not tired. we have all night, darling." he smirked.

"fine. if you must know, i was studying at cambridge to be a doctor. my god, did i hate it. i despised it! i never wanted to go to college, let alone be a doctor. but my mother forced me into it. she put me up in a flat and had a trust fund set up to give me once i turn twenty five. well after i dropped out last week, she put my flat up for rent and canceled all of my funds."

he finally turned to face me, freshly shaven.

"and now i have no home, no career, no money, and apparently no car. i'm barely existing at this point." i continued.

"so what is it you want to do, then?"

"what?"

"if you don't want to go to college, and you certainly don't want to be a doctor, what's your plan?"

i thought for a moment. i wasn't exactly sure myself. i knew one thing though, i knew i loved to draw. i knew i had an eye for it.

"i'd like to be an artist." i said, playing with the hem on my dress.

george began to open his mouth to respond, but the moment he did the door whipped open just as i had done twenty minutes sooner.

"would you two ladies keep it down in here? i'm trying to get some sleep and that's proving to be quite the challenge since you feel the need to have your gossip session right. next. to. my. BUNK." john complained. his expression began to lighten up.

"wait. was i interrupting something?" he asked slyly, winking at george.

i stood up and met john at the door.

"nothing at all." i smiled, giving his cheek a pat with my hand, as if he was five years old.
i closed the door behind me, leaving the boys a perfect opportunity to discuss amongst themselves their opinions about me.

i knew there was a lot.

i took my place back on the leather couch, this time laying back with my hands beneath my head. despite my original idea, i was growing quite tired myself and i was desperate for some sleep.

i curled onto my side, listening to ernie's mumbles once again. as i fell asleep rather quickly.

"she shouldn't be on this bus."