⇾ 𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈

Chapter Eighty-Three: On Second Thought...

I'd like to sincerely apologize

~~~

June 14, 1964

"Ringo!" Paul, John, and George's voices all came in unison.

The tour had started off just as expected—with chaos. We'd been chased probably fifty times at this point. Paul had had children thrown at him. We'd all been stained blue. The possibilities were endless, really! Today had been especially hectic, with nearly 200 people fainting or being injured.

We'd finally made it to the hotel. Jimmie was still here for now, but was leaving pretty soon. Tonight the boys would be having a party.

"How you feeling?" asked Paul, going to clap Ringo on the shoulder.

"Very good," Ringo replied.

"We missed you," I said to him with a smile.

"We've got a press conference in an hour," Brian reminded us. "Room service is bringing you dinner in a few minutes. You've gotta eat fast."

"Can do, Eppy," responded John. As if on cue, there was a knock on the door.

"I'll get it!" piped George, dropping whatever he was holding to answer the door.

~~~

The boys spent the whole press conference looking bored, but of course hiding it the best they could. After it finally ended, everyone stayed around for the party afterwards. It was already late, and I had a gut feeling this would go on for a while. Even better, there was definitely a lot of alcohol involved.

"Donna, Donna, Donna." Two hands covered my eyes from behind. "Guess who it isss." John seemed to try and disguise his voice, but failed miserably.

"Hm," I said jokingly. "I have no idea who it could possibly be."

As usual, I was in the corner, staying away from all of the action in the middle of the room.

"It's me!" said John, turning me around and handing me a drink.

"Is drinking really a good idea for me?" I asked him, looking at the glass he'd put into my hand.

"Always," he replied. I took a tentative sip of the drink and winced as it burned its way down my throat.

"Yum," I said sarcastically, wrinkling my nose.

"Just a few more sips and you'll get used to it," he said, putting his arm around my shoulders. "It's glorious."

I shivered when his lips brushed against my ear.

"Jesus, John, you've got to stop that."

"Why?"

"Because you always think it's a good idea to do it when we're surrounded by people," I hissed.

"What? You don't like it?" he asked. I looked around to make sure that he wasn't playing another drunken game with Paul, and when I realized he was just flat-out drunk, I frowned at him. He hadn't even had that many drinks. He just wasn't trying to fight it.

"No, I don't, actually."

"And why is that?" He took on a look that was almost threatening and I stepped back for a moment, alarmed.

"Because you're being over the top. What exactly do you think you're going to get me to do in a room full of people?"

"I figured you wouldn't do anything," he said. "But I still wanted to try."