Run For Your Life {Beatles Fanfic}

Two - Arrival

I heard a bunch of laughing. Men laughing. I groaned and crept towards the door, and peered through the convenient peephole.

Oh my god. 

Them. They were here. The damn Beatles were staying into the room next to me. John was joking about something, which made the other three laugh uncontrollably. Their manager ushered them into the room, shushing them. I turned around and looked at the balcony. The curtain was still open. I ran over and started pulling the curtain shut when John magically appeared and started rapping on the window.

"Ello!" He yelled.

I yelped from the suddenness, then felt icy. I mumbled some obscenities and slid the door open a tiny bit.

"What?" I grumbled, my breath forming a cloud in the chilly November air.

"Wo ho ho, we got a feisty bird over here!" John called as he motioned the other three over. I wanted to slam the door shut, pull the curtain closed, and move on with my life. But no. I had to scold them. My feet stepped one in front of the other and I was suddenly outside. It was freezing. I rubbed my arms, trying to warm them. I looked up and saw the remaining three devils, all staring at me.

"Hi," George said.

"Hi, roomie," Ringo joked, and John and George laughed.

Paul didn't react, he seemed too focused on my face. I looked down and I was wearing pants and a night shirt. My coat was in the room. I was surrounded by the last four men I wanted to see. Great.

"Hi,"I replied flatly, then wrinkled my nose. George lit a cigarette. "Can you not do that?" I pointed at his joint.

I hated smoking. It was like slowly burning your insides. And the smell was awful.

"Oh. Uh, sorry love," He dropped the joint and reluctantly stepped on it, sighing.

My face must've showed some disgust, because John started laughing.

"You're a special yak, aren't ya?" He poked my cheek. I swatted his hand away. It was really warm, and I was reluctant to let go. I shook my head.

"I'm trying to sleep, can you not be this loud?" I said as I slid open the door, ready to head back inside.

"Can I join you, love?" John joked and the others laughed.

I turned around. John was winking. Paul was staring at me, anticipating my answer. His hazel eyes were pleading no.

"Sleeping with a yak? How could you think of such an idea, John." I mimicked his accent and slammed the door to the sound of George and Ringo roaring with laughter.

John tried to shrug it off and watched me as I closed the curtains. The mood in his eyes changed, as if he wished he didn't act so stupid. I forced my gaze away from him and looked at Paul. Honestly, he was breathtaking in person. His dark hair was ruffled in the wind and his fringe laid over his eyes. His eyes. They never moved from mine. They were so green, yet so brown. His nose was perfect, like a button. My eyes moved down to his even more perfect lips, which were full and puffy and shaped like a heart.

They mouthed, "See you."

I gasped and shut the curtain completely. I grabbed my jacket to warm myself. I ran into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. My black hair was messed up from the wind. I smoothed it down. My lips were chapped. I licked them. My jade eyes were wide. I was speechless. My parents were on a hunt to find the Beatles and now myself. We were both located in the same place. I attracted John. I possibly attracted Paul too. My hands curled around the sink. I couldn't like them! They were the reason I was risking my life. With a new determination I sat at a desk and pulled out a notepad, and I started writing what I had to do.

1) Find a job.

I just graduated from high school last spring. My birthday was in a month. I would turn nineteen soon. I was very sure that the men neighboring me were all at least twenty. Stop. I had to stop thinking of them. I returned to the list and bit my lip, trying to focus. Once I got a job, I would make money. I could buy clothes. I'd have to stay in this room for a while. I hoped the band would only perform once here in New York and leave right away, not returning for at least a year.

I was lost in thoughts of a world with no Beatles when one of them knocked on my door.