The Object of my Affection: My Brother's Band Mate

Allegations

They stayed hidden in the archways, waiting the perfect opportunity to jump back into the scene with minimal suspicion. They stayed quiet and distant. They were spectators, watching and learning how to play the game they'd later decide to participate in. A game of secrecy and deceit.

It wasn't long until the band invited the crowd to sing Auld Lang Syne. Seeing the commotion, Paul nudged Brona. She nodded in agreement. Casually they stepped out of the shadows and joined the scene, falling into place effortlessly.

After the traditional song, they gave and received well wishes for the New Years before dancing and drinking commenced. It was after Cynthia Lennon embraced her, Brona encountered trouble. She had already pinpointed as the most likely candidate to interrogate her or even to take notice of her disappearance. It was mostly because she was sober and, since Cyn became a mother, Brona had noticed she had a more acute sense of awareness.

"Where have you been?"

"I've been right 'ere."

Brona feigned confusion as she tried to convince Cynthia she had been with their crew since the countdown with as much subtly as she could muster. The blonde's eyes drifted side ways as she cast her mind back to moments ago. She tried to visualize the set up, picturing the scene as best she could in her mind. But it all happened so fast that the quality of her mental picture was poor.

"I was right behind you durin' the countdown, Cyn," said Brona casually.

The creases in Cyn's face ironed out as she decided to accept her friend's word. "Yeah... Sorry it's all a bit of a blur."

Brona was about to pass comment about the quantity Cynthia must have consumed to possess such memory loss when someone suffering of intoxication threw their both arms around her and the blonde. Brona giggled as she crashed into John Lennon's side, steadying herself by placing her hand on his chest. Naturally, her arm wrapped around his waist in an effort to support him.

"Brona, I 'aven't been talkin' to you at all since last year," said John in all his dramatics. There was a slight slur to be detected in his words and a lack of stability to his motions.

"And what a long time ago that was," Brona replied, her voice unsteady with laughter.

They exchanged the traditional greeting for the occasion, which for John also included a purposely, slobbery kiss on the cheek. Brona wiped her cheek with mild disgust. She gasp at the sudden sensation of arms wrapped around her neck and a head resting in the crook of her neck. She was quick to recognize the perfume, hairspray and the fiery red hair. Brona held onto her friend's arms as she tilted her neck back to see Cilla White.

"Happy New Year, Cill!"

"Same to you," she replied jovially. "Hey, where did you get to? I thought you were beside me but I turned to you after I wished Bobby a happy new year and you weren't there."

Brona, who was experiencing tension in her neck, motioned to Cilla to retract her arms. She straightened up, alleviating the discomfort in her neck. Subtly, she eyed Cynthia, hoping she didn't hear Cilla's comment. She didn't want any allegations made against her. These things had a way of getting twisted through speculation and the last thing she needed was to clear her name with all her friends and acquaintances.

"I wasn't beside you, Cilla," she explained coolly. "I was behind you. By the time, you turned for me I was probably lost in the crowd."

Brona leaned back to watch the red headed girl's facial expression as she ran Brona's statement through her brain. The brunette gnawed on her lip while waiting for her friend's response. She wondered how Paul was bearing up and where the hell he was. She wanted him near.

"Yeah, it's really packed in 'ere this evenin', ain't it?"

"So packed!"

Brona could've almost collapse with relief. Instead, she decided to dance the stress out, moving her body in rhythm to the beat. Her and Cilla were impressively dancing in sync, pulling out all the moves they knew, when John, beer in hand, got their attention.

"Your brother is really suckin' the face of that poor bird over there."

"He pulled, did he?"

"Yeah, look."

With a raised brow, Brona peered over Lennon's shoulder before he cleared the view by moving around to her side. Indeed, George was lip-locked with a girl, who's face they couldn't see, on the other side of the club. Soon, their little crew had gravitated together again to stare at the sight. John was willing to supply all the information he had, which wasn't much. Apparently, George asked her to kiss him at midnight... it was edging one o'clock now.

This planted a seed in Brona's head. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. She turned to Cilla, ready to tease her about Bobby Willis and if they shared a proper kiss at midnight when she was beaten to it.

"Did you snog anyone at midnight, hun?" asked the red haired girl curiously.

Brona's brows furrowed. "I don't think the tradition calls for tongues, Cill."

"Fine, then," she said, nudging her mate with her elbow. "Did you kiss any one at midnight?"

"Nope."

"You didn't?"

Brona glanced down at her shoulder to see a mop of dark hair and feel a chin rest on her shoulder. She instantly identified the shocked voice of Maureen Cox, who was staring up at her with wide, big eyes. Brona shook her head, reaffirming her statement. Simultaneously, they asked why.

"There's no one 'ere that I want to kiss."

"Then let's 'elp you find someone," Cilla suggested with a bright smile. She looked excitedly at Maureen. "Come on, Mo. We're bringin' Brona on the pull."

Alarm bells blasted in Brona's head as her friends linked her arms. Her face faltered briefly before she caught herself. Her heartbeats became sharp and quick. Their volume heightened. She felt as though she was wearing a stethoscope and listening to her own heart. She didn't know how to get out of this one. It was as if her brain had lost the ability to think.

"Why are we all just hangin' around and watchin' George snog Lisa Smith?" asked Paul, coming up from behind and putting a loose arm around John and Ringo.

John lifted his shoulders in a half shrug. "It's a rare sight."

Brona's body stilled as she felt the hands that were holding her arms captive drop. She was afraid to move, even breath. Something else had caught their attention.

"Lisa Smith?!" Cilla and Maureen spat out in shock.

Paul pushed off his two mates, taking a few steps closer to the curious girls. He bobbed his head in confirmation. Brona listened to them swap information. Something about that her and her boyfriend Darren Someone must be off again. Normally, Brona would've eagerly joined in but their words were irrelevant. They were background noise as her eyes made a connection with a set of hazel eyes.

It wasn't long until she felt his hand rest lightly on the small of her back. He retracted it quickly, thinking better of it. Yet, she could still feel it's ghost haunting her and eliciting a craving within her to have his arm tenderly wrapped around her. He could've, she thought. Almost disappointed. No one would suspect anything.

She felt his warm breath tickling her ear, sending an involuntary shudder down her spine, as he leaned in to whisper.

"Do you want to get out of 'ere?"

"Yes."

A/N: This is short and uneventful, I know and I'm sorry. The reason for this is I was having trouble with this chapter because there is more to it but it was getting long. I felt I needed to break it up so I can deal with the more eventful stiff in a more focused way. I feel this chapter could easily be left out but I felt I needed to gradually reintroduce some of the other characters. By the way, I have another Beatles' story on the go too. It's called Beautiful Dreamer, if you'd like the check it out :)

Sorry for the delay guys. Unfortunately, I lost a friend unexpectedly and randomly and I wasn't able to function for awhile because it couldn't have been foreseen and it's been devastating.