Carry On (A Beatles Fanfiction)

Chapter Forty

A/N: Double feature today! I got on a roll... Wow, forty chapters...hard to believe I started this story almost two years ago. This is a shorter chapter, but lots happens. I think I should also trigger warning this for a small part involving sexual assault that could've lead to something worse... had someone not stepped in, I won't say who. But if that is uncomfortable for you to read, this is your warning. I promise it's not even remotely graphic, but I leave it up to your discretion. Enjoy the chapter.

Chapter Forty: Ashley's POV

The car ride was silent, no one really dared to speak. Needless to say, it wasn't an exciting atmosphere, and it should have been.

"Why didn't you say hi back? That was the most civil thing he said to you in the past couple days." I thought, staring out the window.

"Just let it go, Ashley. Try and have a good night." I wasn't sure if I could.

"Is there gonna be alcohol at this thing?" Ringo suddenly asked.

"I hope so." Paul answered. He sounded tired too. I knew this situation was stressful on him, and George and Ringo too. They were all caught in the middle of this. So that was another thing I could feel bad about. I started tracking my fingernail over the design on my locket and noticed John was watching me. I stopped, looking down into my lap. I had a bad feeling it would be a long night.

"Why can't you just talk to him? I thought. Well for starters, I could probably get my head torn off. I knew he read the letter, what difference would it make? It would still be up to him whether he believed it or not, or thought I was a shoo in for the psych ward. As we pulled up to the building, I was the first to get out, Paul followed and took me by the hand. I didn't care who saw. I wasn't even in my disguise. That night, I was Paul's date and the broken princess all rolled into one. The tabloids could write me up however they wanted, it didn't make any difference to me. Nothing mattered to me anymore. The ballroom was very fine, elegant string music was playing.

"Would you like to dance, Ashley?" Paul asked me with a sweet smile. He seemed happy, but his hazel eyes spoke volumes. I didn't want to be miserable around him any more than I had been, so I smiled back and agreed. We headed to the dance floor, just as a slow song queued up.

"Your eyes look so sad." He noticed.

"I could say the same about you." I replied, without missing a beat.

"I just feel for you, Ashley." I sighed and tried to focus on the music.

"Let's not think about it right now. Let's just forget it and have a nice time." I said. I intended to perk up as much as I possibly could. As the song concluded, we all clapped politely.

"Do you want champagne or anything?" Paul asked me. I wanted to say yes, but I'd sworn off alcohol.

"One won't kill you, it might take your edge off." I thought.

"Sure." I smiled. So we headed toward the drinks. As we did, Ringo and George came over.

"There you are. Ashley, we did something." Ringo smiled, his eyes twinkling with excitement. I gave them both a funny look as Paul handed me a glass of the bubbly liquid.

"What did you guys do?" My tone was cautious.

"You're gonna sing!" George announced. I almost dropped my champagne flute.

"What?" I asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, it's all arranged. The singer they got for tonight can't make it, and we overheard the conversation and said our good friend Ashley Bunting could sing. So you've got the job! Do you know Moon River?" Ringo explained. My heart was racing. They got me to sing? In front of all these strangers?