If I Needed Someone

Chapter Four

  Ringo’s mind raced as every individual second passed by. What had that been about? George had just bloody kissed him, and then he walked away as soon as it was over! Now he and Paul were gone, and Ringo didn’t know where they ran off to. What if George was telling Paul terrible things, making up lies? What if he was telling all the others, saying stupid things like that Ringo tried to rape him or something along the lines of that ridiculousness?

  Now panicking, Ringo raced back up the his room. It was empty, but a presence seemed to linger in the room. It felt like someone had been there only moments before. Ringo didn’t see anyone, but as he sat down, the bed felt warm from a human touch. Suddenly the undesirable hit him; what if George had just been here?

  Why would George want to be in my room? he thought, a worried look across his face. Did he want to come find me? No, that wouldn’t make sense. I was in the alley, and it only took me about five minutes to come up here after checking the coffee shop. I guarantee he wouldn’t want to talk to me after something like that. Why would anyone?

For the rest of the day, Ringo stayed as far away from the Beatles as he could. He only saw John and Stu occasionally, dicking around near the coffee shop as well as their room. He hung out with Rory the entire day, the two of them chatting and laughing away as Ringo tried to forget about George.

  He didn’t see either Paul or George until their performance that evening, the two of them acting like nothing had ever happened. Did he tell Paul? Ringo was furious as he watched them performing, scowling from his seat next to Rory. He took another swig of beer, trying to maintain a positive attitude at least on the outside. Why would he drag Paul into this? There is no reason that he needs to know. It’s not like I kissed George; he kissed me. Sure, I wanted to kiss him, but he initially took the action. Nothing is my fault here; it’s all George’s.

Ringo looked over toward Rory, realizing that he was a rather strange man. He wore the craziest clothes, sometimes wearing outfits of all pink. Yet Ringo still stuck with him. There should be no reason for he and George to stop talking over something so small. Tonight, Rory was thankfully wearing an entirely blue suit, and the rest of the group was wearing the same suit in red. They were a crazy group indeed, but they definitely didn’t have the intense amount of drama the Beatles had.

  From what Ringo had heard, that John fellow was a crazy lad. His dad had left him and he had been sent to live with his aunt, and by the time he reconnected with his mum, she died. He had lived a rough life indeed, but that was no reason for him to be a dick to everyone. Paul’s mum had died as well, but when he was younger. Yet Paul was still somewhat nice, besides his occasional stuck-up attitude.

  But George was being a plain asshole, kissing him and then running off. From what Ringo had heard, nothing too bad had happened to him. He had a perfectly fine mum and dad, and plenty of siblings. He hadn’t even been raised in the poor part of Liverpool like Ringo was. So why was George acting so strange?

  The Beatles were an incredible band, Ringo had to give them that. They certainly didn’t need to hide behind past experiences to make them seem cooler. John could get by completely based on talent, but his lack of self-esteem certainly made everyone doubt him. If they hadn’t hid behind that, maybe they would be a bigger band overall. 

  Ringo decided that thinking too much while his blood was infused with alcohol and painkillers. Taking a little picker-upper every now and then before performing was important to him, and he tried not to take too much before each show. He knew for a fact that John took way more than the rest of them, so if anyone was at risk of anything deadly, it would be him and certainly not Ringo.

  Watching the Beatles performing, Ringo couldn’t help staring at George until his stomach felt sick. That young lad from Liverpool was absolutely perfect in every single way. Ringo didn’t know how anyone could be that perfect. Every chord progression he played, every single note and strum of his strings; George was flawless.