imagines; beatles

standing there : george

You firmly held the small piece of yellow paper between your hands, nervous and panicking. Your job was on the line if you didn't perform well at this press event.

You had one job, to interview the Rolling Stones, and do a good job.

"Shit." You muttered under your breath, freaking out.

"Hey Y/N!" Your boss called out to you. You perked your head up. "Look, change of plans. Melanie is going to interview the Stones, you've got the Beatles. They're over in studio 5 so go grab your stuff and run over there quick. Ask...Carl." He pointed a finger at a tall and slender young man. "For directions or a golf cart. You have five minutes. And remember, don't piss of John Lennon." He quickly walked away, talking to someone else. You barely had time to process all that was going on. Your anxiety rose.

There was one major problem...you hated the Beatles. The snobby, posh and woman hunting lads.

You shook your thoughts and grabbed your brown leather bag, sweeping it across your shoulder and running over to Carl. He directed you to a golf cart and from there things went in double the speed of the real world.

"Y/N, here to interview the Beatles from Rolling Stone magazine." You gulped. A tan security guard led you over to a couch where the four lads sat, goofing off with each other. You felt yourself boil with anger at them being so happy when they have been notorious for sleeping with lots of women.

"Look at the bird.." John nudged George's shoulder and they all looked up at you walking towards them.

"Blonde hair.."

"Another Brigitte Bardot.." John chuckled. Your anger grew and all you wanted to do was slap him across the face.. "whatever you do don't make John Lennon angry.."

"Hello, boys." You hissed, sitting down in a chair to face them.

A couple questions in...

"Fans are saying you four are obsessed with the luxuries of fame and that's why you decided to stop touring. They also ask when you four will tour again. What do you have to say?" You asked. George opened his mouth to speak, leaning in to get closer to the mic, and you.

"To me at least, it's not fame that we are obsessed with, it's our music. Now we decided to stop performing because the screaming was too much. We love our fans dearly..but it became hard to just enjoy it, y'know? Thinking about the possibility of touring again after we've just quit? I mean we just want a break to think for ourselves."

You were shocked by his response. His seriousness was alluring and sexy in a way. Your respect for him grew.

"Ello?" He added, giggling. You snapped back to reality.

"Yes. Sorry, I just wasn't expecting that." You quickly scribbled the notes down on your paper.

After you finished the last of your questions, you started to grow doubts about how you originally thought of The Beatles. The lads were taking a break to eat, before they would be taken to a show they had. George made eye contact with you and then started to walk over, a biscuit in hand.

"Ye look a bit sick. I hope we weren't that bad to interview.." He let out an airy laugh and took a bite of his biscuit.

"No, No. I'm alright. I just...didn't know you felt that way about touring and such. Offered me a new perspective."

"what do ye mean?" He looked at you quizzically.

"I mean, I was supposed to be interviewing the Stones.." George cracked a devilish grin. "Don't look at me like that. They're nice."