It was a silent night in downtown Los Angeles of 1965 for the Beatles, who were in their nice secluded house seated by Benedict Canyon. The pool's water outside their house was rushing with water while the crickets chirped soundly in the pitch black night away from the sounds of downtown.
"SHE LOVES YOU, YEAH, YEAH, YEAH!" John screams violently in the house's living room.
Paul plays his bass at a booming loud triple forte with the vibrations hitting every glass item in the house.
Ringo and George are on the scratchy green couch in front of the both laughing away at their friend's silliness.
"No, John! It's sie liebt dich!" George laughs from the couch.
"Ah! Right, right! Sie Liebt Dich!" John yells at the top of his lungs.
"WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Paul laughs harshly.
"Du glaubst sie liebt nur mich? Gestern hab' ich sie gesehen!"
The house is loud with noise.
It takes about an hour for the four to grow wearily.
"All right. My vocals are just about damaged now, so I'll be heading down for a rest. Goodnight everyone!" John says while going to his room.
"Yep, my fingers are raw now, so I'll best be needing a band-aid for them." Paul says while looking at his raw, red fingertips.
"Good night you two." Paul yawns packing up his bass, and taking it with him to his room.
It's just George and Ringo on the scratchy, green couch now.
The two look at each other in the now silent atmosphere.
"Want to go outside?" Ringo ask, in hopes to break the silence.
"Sure." George responds softly.
The two get up, scratch themselves to free their skin from the itchy material, and make their way out the back door leading to the back yard. George and Ringo are still in their pajamas. Ringo in baby blue stripes, George in plain white.
Ringo steps down the concrete steps and sits, George follows, but Ringo tickles George's legs in hopes that George trips down. George's leg twitches and he almost loses step.
"Hey! What was that for?" George giggles, knowing that Ringo meant well.
"Oops!" Ringo laughs.
The two chuckle in the soft dark starry night on the still cold porch of hard stone steps.
"Hey George." Ringo says in the soft silence.
"Yeah, Ritchie?" George replies, looking at Ringo.
"Look at that star." Ringo says while pointing at a shining bright star in the night sky.
"This one?" George says before tackling Ringo on the concrete.
"No! That one up there!" Ringo laughs while pointing at the same star.
George, who is on top of Ringo, looks at the star he is pointing at.
"That one? Up there?" George ask in a bit of a gaze.
"Yeah! Beautiful innit?" Ringo responds.
"Very."
The two look at the glaring white star in awe. It's shine is brighter than all the others in the sky littered with tiny, white stars.
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"They're all special in their own way." Ringo says to the sky, and to his friend.
"Yeah, you're right." George says back to Ringo before sticking his head in his neck slowly.
"Huh?" Ringo gasp.
"But this Starr is the best star of all, at least for me." George whispers.
Ringo blushes and gets a little feeling in his gut.
He strokes George's hair slowly and steadily. With each stroke, he collects hand fulls of fluffy George hair.
"Ringo." George ask calmly.
"Yes, Georgie?" Ringo answers softly and quietly.
"For the better, let's not talk about this afterward."
"Right. We're just two lads anyways."
"Right.
Ringo continues to stroke George's soft, clustered hair in the cool deep dark glittered night. George star gazes with Ringo, onlooking of all the twinkling white dots filling the blank chalkboard of a night sky. The world was a mirror reflecting space right now. Reflecting what humanity still had to discover. The Beatles, their band, was making history in the world floating around in what they call "space".
"What would happen in the future?" The four band members, plus anyone close to them thought.
How would the band end? How many people would still like them in the future? How influential were they really? Would any of them drift apart one day?
So many questions, with no answers at the moment there and then.
George was comforted by Ringo's presence. His fingers going back and forth in his hair. It all felt so profound and comforting.
"Let's go back inside now, hm?" Ringo ask, taking a break from stroking George's hair.
Aw.
"Right." George sighs, getting up from Ringo.
Ringo gets up, and the two go back inside of the house where warmth from the fireplace in the living room meets them.
They part ways at their room, and both sleep soundly while thinking of eachother.
