On Loving Paul [McLennon]

Brian Epstien

A/N: just a quick warning this this is a shitty ass really short chapter because my brain fucking hates me....love ya

August 13, 1962....

The Beatles had found a manager. It was the biggest thing that had happened to them since Hamburg. Brian Epstein had gone to the Cavern one night and watched the band play. He had been absolutely amazed and had offered them a record deal.

But! Only if they got rid of Pete.

"That's insane!" John exclaimed when he, Paul, and George met up with Brian for a meeting to get everything set and ready. "We can't just kick Pete out of the band!"

"He's just not professional material," Brian sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry, really I am, but he has to go."

"And who do you suggest we replace him with?" John shot back. "We may be popular in Liverpool, but we don't exactly have a list of people waiting in line to be our bloody drummer!"

"Actually, there is someone who'd be beyond willing to join us." Goerge piped in.

Brian, John, and Paul all looked over at him interestedly.

"Really?" Brian smiled. "Who?"

Paul looked puzzled and John, while still annoyed about the fact that they had to kick out a member of their band, looked rather curious.

"Well - uh - you see, we met him a while back." George said. "And he and I have kept in touch. Over the phone and through letters. We met him back when we had this gig in Hamburg, Germany for a while. His name is Richard Starky, but he goes by the name Ringo Starr."

"Ringo," John nodded, thinking back to their weeks in Hamburg. "He's a nice guy. Funny, too. And a fantastic drummer. We watched him play a lot in Hamburg with his band and he played with us a couple of nights when Pete came down with the flu."

"George, can you contact him and ask about him joining the Beatles permanently?" Brian questioned almost excitedly.

"Yeah," George nodded. "I'll call him tonight."

"Brilliant," Brian nodded.

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By December of 1962, the Beatles were a hit. They were touring the United Kingdom and getting ready to start work on their very first album.

John, Paul, and George received word a couple of weeks before Christmas from Astrid, Stuart's wife, over the telephone. She informed them that Stuart had suffered brain damage from an undiagnosed illness and had dropped dead in the sitting room.

But the Beatles were off to do big things. Oh, they had no idea.