A big Starr

Going it alone

Two months passed since "the incident" (as George had dubbed it.) He'd managed to get away with Paul not finding out and Ringo not showing up again. He'd gone to America for a charity concert. The work continued, and he managed to balance it with his college work nicely.

Ever since the dinner, things had slowly been changing between John and Paul. Paul was around the flat almost all the time, and it was obvious that they were a couple now. Although he was now good friends with both of them and spent a lot of time with them (most of his time, actually) and loved them dearly, he couldn't help feeling like a bit of a third wheel. It sucked.

Monday soon rolled around again. Ugh. The excitement part had disappeared and was now replaced with the regular dread of work. However this Monday was different.
"Here's the key to the house. Sorry I can't come into today. But thank you so so much for covering for me so I can spend the day with Johnny!" Paul hugged him as he left for work. "You do that everyday" thought George. It was the first day doing this alone. Great.

As he approached the door though, he noticed it was slightly ajar. Shit. Has there been a break in? He cautiously approached the door.
"Hello?" he called out. Inside was a shock. If it hasn't been for the small groan, he would've though let there had been a break in. Bottles were everywhere, and it reeked of alcohol- and other substances.

"Oh look. It's my little drummer boy." Ringo slurred. He was lying half conscious on the sofa, naked, with another naked man next to him. George froze. What is he supposed to do now?
"I had a party last night. See?" Ringo gave a goofy grin, gesturing around , and George noticed how red his eyes were.
"Would you like anything? Um water or-or I could get you upstairs to bed, sir?" George instantly regretted saying the last question.
Ringo just laughed.
"Water." he slurred again, before drifting back of into sleep.

George came back with the water and placed it on the table next to the sofa Ringo had passed out on. He covered him with a blanket and started work. Fan mail today.

After about two hours, Ringo stuck his head round the door. George's stomach filled with butterflies. He really was handsome.
"Um- Gavin?" George was glad to see he'd put a dressing gown on now.

"George" he corrected.
"George. I'll call you Georgie."
George gulped. Ringo Starr had just given him a nickname. No big deal.
"I've just come to thank you for earlier. I think you've made up for the drumming, don't you?" Ringo winked and George's stomach flipped again.
"Sorry about that, seriously. I- um- I seem to be falling back into some bad habits..."
George nodded in understanding.
"It's alright, Sir."
"Please, Ringo, Georgie. I know you get paid for it but-"
George interrupted him.
"I would've done it anyway, Ringo."

Shit! Why did he just say that? Oh God. He really needs to practice not fucking up.
Ringo smiled softly.
"Well thank you, all the same. I'm going to be around a bit for a while. So i'll see you, yeah?"
George returned the smile as he left.

Alone in the office, George was left coming to terms with the fact he may or may not have a teeny weeny little crush on his rockstar-employer he had no chance with. Yay.

Sorry if this is a little dialogue heavy! I'm doing a Ringo POV chapter next. I hope you're enjoying it :) x