𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 | george harrison

thirteen

"i cannot believe this is happening again." i stated, standing in front of my vw with nancy. it was the next morning and the two of us were more than ready to ditch the motel.

"didn't you just get it fixed? like... yesterday?" she asked, applying a fresh coat of red lipstick.

"yes! piece of shit." i grunted.

we both leaned against the hood of the broken car as it sat, completely useless, in the parking lot of the equally shitty motel. nancy lit a cigarette to ease the frustration; we began to pass it back and fourth.

"i cannot believe you took a bus out here."

"oh no, we're mad at your car remember? not me. i just thought i'd be nice to ride home together."

"really? i think it'd be nice to ride home at all!"

"relax, would you? why don't you call george or something? you said yourself you regret leaving anyway. hell, if i knew a rich, world famous band, i'd be calling them for everything."

"that's just it. i can't have them coming to my rescue every time something goes wrong. i need to be able to help myself. i can do this! i'm a strong, independent woman and i-" almost as if on cue, the all too familiar bus began to pull up beside us.

"you were saying?" nancy smirked, tossing the cigarette down and crushing it with her heel.

"blimey! it's been twenty four hours! how did they even manage to find me?" i questioned, frantically fixing my hair. "i can't let them know my car is broken again."

"i think it's fairly obvious."

"what do you," i turned to face my junky vehicle which was now smoking from the hood. "christ!"

the bus came to a stop and to say nancy was growing excited is an understatement.

"i can't believe you know the beatles. i was obsessed with paul mccartney in sixty four."

"trust me, i remember. just keep it cool, okay? i don't want them thinking we're desperate."

"aren't we? you were literally sobbing over george last night,"

"shut up!" just as i elbowed her, the door of the bus whipped open only to reveal the reason for my tears.

"michelle! mother fuck- don't ever do that again," he started as he began to walk down the steps. "i was so scared. i was nervous something would happen to you and i was petrified i might... i might never see you again." he rambled as i walked in his direction to meet him halfway.

"i know, i know. i should've said something to you. but i'm not apologising for leaving, george. it's not fair to the four of you to have you drag me around. i'm a burden, i just wanted you to enjoy the rest of the tour."

just like that, the two of us were standing face to face once again.

so close that all i had to do was lean forward and we'd be kissing.

play it cool.

"oh thank god! there you are!" paul exclaimed, jumping out of the bus with ringo close behind.

"have you gotten taller? your hair has gotten longer?" ringo questioned, pulling me into a hug.

"ritchie it's been one day."

i guess when you spend every minute of every day with someone on a moving bus for two months, one day feels a lot like an eternity.
i knew that first hand.