If I Fell│John Lennon/Beatles FanFiction

Chapter 7 - 14.May.1960

Chapter 7

May 14, 1960

"We're the Silver Beats," John said into the microphone. "And we're here to play some rock 'n' roll."

I almost choked on my wine. The Silver Beats. Their second name in only a handful of days. Just four days ago, they'd been The Silver Beatles. They were changing names like they were changing drummers.

"What's so funny?" Catherine Davies asked, her brown eyes amused. She'd only worked with me during the morning shift, so she looked refreshed while I looked half asleep. Her dark hair was styled in a flicked-up bob, something my hair would never dream of holding for more than a minute.

I shook my head. "Nothin'."

"Is this them?" she asked, nodding toward the five boys on stage.

"This is them."

John and Paul stood next to each other, and Stu and George flanked them on either side. Cigarettes hung from all of their lips. Cliff settled behind what looked like a brand-new drum set. I wondered how in the hell he would play with the boys having never played with them before, but they'd pulled off crazier things.

Paul counted them in and they began to play their first song. This was how I loved seeing John the most. He looked content when he played. Nothing made me happier than seeing him grin at Paul when they made a mistake. Paul always smiled back and shook his head. It never ceased to amaze me how beautiful their voices sounded together.

They'd been practicing endlessly, and it was beginning to show. They were getting better, more comfortable on stage. But they needed a more committed drummer. The audience was undoubtedly into them, especially the birds, as they flocked around the stage. I wasn't sure if they loved the music or their boyish good looks more. Paul loved winking at girls from the stage, causing them to go wild. A few blokes around the room looked less than pleased, but I imagined it was only because of their raging jealousy.

"How do you know these blokes?" Catherine asked as she bobbed her head to the music. They'd moved onto their next song, and Cliff was doing a fine job keeping up.

"Grew up three houses down from that one," I said, pointing at John while he smirked at Paul.

"I think he's proper fit," Catherine said over the music.

"Who, John?" I took a long sip of my wine before fiddling with my camera.

"Well sure, him, too. But I was talking about that one." She pointed to the right-hand side of the stage where George was playing the guitar like it was the easiest thing in the world to do. "He taken?"

"That's George." He was in the middle of an impressive solo. "He's not taken. I'll introduce you when they're done."

Catherine's lips pulled into a broad smile as her bobbing became more pronounced.

"I'll be back," I said as I slipped from my chair, my camera tight in my hand. There was something that still nagged in the back of my head every time I began taking pictures. My teacher's words burned there, making me second-guess every shot. He'd still not said a single positive thing about my work since pulling me aside months ago. Everything I did was at best average, according to him.

I tried shaking the feeling as the boys finished their second number. With careful movements, I pushed my way through the small crowd of girls toward the front of the stage.

John stepped to Paul, whispering something in his ear. A wide grin grew on their faces as they both laughed, John's head falling back as he continued to chuckle. I brought the camera to my eye and framed the shot. I snapped the photo, loving their interaction. There was something so pure about their friendship.