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I'VE HIT 1K! Wow, that means a lot to me, guys. You've been amazing. To thank you, here's a great chapter ;) xxxx

John's POV

I watched from side stage, as I strapped my guitar over my shoulder.

I felt my body tense up as the stage lowered it's lights, preparing for us to walk on and jam.

It was supposed to be just a gig, but something felt wrong.

The crowd was too big; too loud; too.. wrong.

"Hey, John?" Someone called, and I spun around to see George, striding up to me, his arm outstretched. "Did you see how huge the audience is?"

Sighing in relief, I nodded.

"Yeah, I was beginning to think I was the only one that noticed."

George laughed and gestured for me to follow him backstage, where the rest of us were supposed to be while we're waiting.

"When do we go on?" Paul asked, sitting down on a stool, his bass guitar held limply between his knees.

"Soon-" Ringo started, but stopped. "Who's that?"

From the dim lights in the distance, someone was pulling the stage door open and ushering in around 15 people.

"Are people sneaking in?" Ringo added, but stopped short as the group of people came closer.

My jaw dropped.

Walking towards us was the two exact bands I never wanted to encounter again; Led Zeppelin and The Rolling Stones.

"Sorry for the short notice, boys!" Peter Grant, Zeppelin's manager said, his smile beaming. "But all three of you were in England at the same time and we thought 'why not!'"

Paul's face turned green and he shot me a grimace, which he soon gave to the other two.

George seemed quite content, as though he couldn't have cared less, but Paul and I must've shown the disagreement on our faces, because Grant was pushing Robert Plant towards the stage.

"Go!" He hissed, hoping to get the show started before we could object.

It was our gig, first of all.

"Uh, you'll be going on after The Stones." Andrew Oldham stammered, glancing nervously at us Beatles. "You'll be the main show, still. Don't worry."

"Excuse me?" Paul asked, his eyebrows raised, his mouth twisted into a horrible frown. "You can't do that!"

"Do what?" Oldham questioned, confused, but I knew better.

I couldn't believe they were all in on this!

"Is this some kind of joke?" I started, staring Oldham in the eye, as Grant returned to his side.

The Stones were getting dressed a few feet back.

"Joke?" Grant asked stupidly, looking from Oldham to me.

"Yes, this!" I shouted, raising my voice, as the screams and squeals of the unsuspecting audience filled my ears. "You're gonna use up all the crowds energy with your stupid bands and leave us to- to wither!"

Before I could get an answer, not that I wanted one, I pushed my guitar further onto my shoulder and walked down the hallway, past the rest of my band, the managers and the ridiculous Stones, dressing in their tight clothes.

"Hey- John!" I heard Mick Jagger call, but I wanted him dead, so why should I answer him?

I ignored him and walked faster, ending at the door holding the exit to outside, where the sun was setting and the world was quiet, despite the shouts and screams from the crowd, roaring for Led Zeppelin.

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