⇾ 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈

Chapter Nine: Happy Birthday to George You-Don't-Have-A-Middle-Name Harrison!

February 25, 1964

"Happy birthday to George you-don't-have-a-middle-name Harrison!" yelled John enthusiastically as he and I entered the recording studio the morning of their first official recording day for their newest LP.

"The big twenty-one!" added Paul from across the room. "You can drink in America now, Geo!"

My eyes scanned the room looking for him. He was huddled in the corner with his guitar strapped around him, his face bright red. Ringo came out of a door next to him and put his arm around his shoulders jokingly. "It's alright, Hassa," he said. "Cheer up."

"You three are terrible," George said remorsefully.

John gave a sarcastic, loving smile to him. John's tie was swung lazily around his neck still. We had been in a rush this morning. As John and Paul bickered and the three poked fun at George, I moved in front of John and began to secure it into place. He gave a dopey grin when I was done and placed a quick peck on my cheek.

"Donna?" Brian emerged from the room Ringo had just come out of. I turned and he was waving for me to go join him.

"I love you," John's aid in a singsong voice before I turned to leave.

"I love you too," I replied. The band had a rule about no girlfriends in the studio; although, they had to make an exception for me since I was still Brian's assistant and had to be there. No one had really given a second thought to me. I think they just genuinely enjoyed my company...I hoped they did, at least. John always told me they did, but I was too self-deprecating to believe any of it anyways.

I made my way over to Brian as all the boys huddled together in the middle of the room, George's face still slightly red.

~~~

"Well, happy birthday to you." John grinned lopsidedly at George, looking around at the piles of fanmail George had received, curiously including a door "for all of his 21st birthday keys."

Perhaps he needed one because there were thousands of little paper keys and thousands of messages, drawing, letters, and everything alike.

"George, I think the fans have outdone us. We can't give you anything this big," said Paul. "We sincerely apologize."

"You ought to be ashamed," replied George sarcastically. "Letting strangers beat you."

John put his hands up in surrender. "We really did try."

"Oh, come off it," said Ringo with a laugh. "Our friendship should be enough," he scoffed teasingly.

"Of course it is," said George as he opened another letter, giving a reassuring smile. "But I like Donna the most."

John's mouth fell open jokingly and secured an arm around my shoulders. "Watch you back, Harrison," he said, cracking a grin.

"Hurry up with your 30,000 letters," said Paul. "We're all ready for dinner."

"I thought you'd never say so," George said, putting down the letter he'd been reading and standing. "We can come back to this later."

Everyone in the room laughed and Brian came up beside George as he was slipping his suit jacket back on.

"Here, George," said Brian, handing him a gold cigarette lighter. "Happy birthday" He smiled.

George took it with a happy grin on his face. "Thanks, Bri," he answered, looking over the lighter with fondness in his eyes.

Brian nodded. "Anytime. Now, let's go eat."

As Brian strode ahead, I saw George look up and catch my eye, an excited look on his face.

~~~

A private party was set up for George on the second floor of the Ivy restaurant down the road. There were a few guests at the party, but not too many. Jane was there with Paul, Maureen with Ringo, Cilla Black was there, Dick James, and so was George Martin.

Our dinner was turtle soup, smoked salmon, and Chateaubriand steak. I had never heard of half of those, and being picky, didn't eat too much. I wasn't going to completely refuse something though because that's just rude, so I just helped myself to a small serving of each.

"That all you're having, love?" asked John.

I nodded. "I'm not very hungry," I assured him. He nodded, taking a sip of his drink and then resting his hand on my upper thigh under the table. I tensed up and saw John smirk out of the corner of my eye as he stayed indulged in the conversation with the others at the table as if nothing had happened. I folded both of my hands on the table and kept my eyes moving around from face to face to pretend I was present.

Paul caught my eye and seemed to recognize my discomfort, sending John and I a knowing wink. John let his hand wander teasingly and I jumped slightly when he slipped it up under my skirt. When someone gave me a confused look, his hand slipped around my waist and I shot him a warning look, tapping my toe intensely.

I blushed, not knowing what had made him act so rashly all of a sudden. I could see Paul laughing across the table with John. I then realized that Jane had suddenly started acting the same way I had and gave an annoyed look to John that said, "Are you kidding me?" He shrugged slightly, giving me a little smile.

"Stop," I said lowly to him.

"Maybe it's just the alcohol," I told myself

"That's all I get?" he asked suggestively.

I rolled my eyes. "What else can I do in a room full of people?"

"Nothing, I presume," he responded. "But—?"

"But—?"

"But, we won't be here forever." He had a begging look on his face.

"Unbelievable," I said, taking a long, contemplative swig of the alcohol in front of me.

"Is that a yes?" He gave the smile I could never say no to and I had the near-irresistible urge to slap him in frustration.

"But, I'm tired," I said teasingly.

"You've got me all worked up now," he complained.

"Actually," I corrected. "That was you and Paul's little 'game,'" I replied with a sarcastic smile.

He took a bite of his food. "I guess you're not wrong."

"How 'bout we just sleep on it?"

He gave me a desperate look and I rewarded him with a innocently mischievous smirk. If we hadn't been in a room full of people, I could have hit him.