1966
"I thought it couldn't get any worse, but it did!" Ringo jumped as a newspaper was slapped down in front of him. "Look at this garbage! I was only stating the truth!"
"Well John, it's a risky move telling everyone we are bigger than Jesus."
"It shouldn't be!" he spat. "People can be so stupid!" Paul sighed. "And another thing, we can't tour anymore. Do you really think anyone will be able to hear us?" He opened his mouth to protest, then closed it. "No...those amplifiers aren't doing jack shit. It'll be easier on us to not be traveling the world as much. Knock it off, George!" George frowned as he looked up from the sitar. "The planes scare me."
"They scare all of us...I didn't wanna go to jail..." Ringo whimpered, remembering the incident in the Philippines. "This year has been a bad one for all of us."
"But it may help if there is only one more concert, we won't be as easy to target, correct?" Paul shifted uncomfortably. "I don't know, that man told us to expect a few surprises at the show. It can't be anything good." John scoffed. "What are they going to do, shoot me?"
"HOLY FUCK!" John dropped the microphone, making it release an ear-piercing screech. "THEY'RE ACTUALLY SHOOTING AT ME!" The crowed roared as fans panicked to get out. Ringo jumped, holding onto George for dear life. "If that really is a gun, I just want you to know I love you!" He nodded wordlessly, too shocked to move. "FUCKING FIRECRACKER!"
"What?" George looked up. "Sonofabitch!" He yelled at the smirking man. "At least they didn't shoot you," Paul laughed, mostly out of relief. "That would be the worst. Wait, no John!" He stopped him from throwing the burnt out firecrackers back at the owner. "He's already angry!"
"That makes two of us!" He snarled. "John, no. There's nothing we can do about it, he's in the Klu Klux Klan and we shouldn't provoke them anymore. Let's get back to the show." The audience had mostly calmed down after the incident, anxiously awaiting what happened next. "We're okay, everybody! Now to get this show back on its rails, we bring you...Ticket To Ride!" The fans screamed and cheered as the familiar twangy sound rang out.
"I think I'm gonna be sad
I think it's today, yeah
The girl that's driving me mad
Is going away
She's got a ticket to ride
She's got a ticket to ride
She's got a ticket to ride
But she don't care..." John paused for a moment, realizing how close they were when he and Paul shared a mic. Close enough to accidentally kiss...
"Sh-she says that living with me
Is bringing her down, yeah
For she would never be free
When I was around
She's got a ticket to ride
She's got a ticket to ride
She's got a ticket to ride
But she don't care..." Oh my god, his face is adorable, a cute baby face. Long eyelashes, doe eyes, slightly chubby cheeks, those smooth, shiny lips that looked so kissable...
"He's out of it," George whispered, amazed at how he kept singing anyways. "He has a gorgeous man to look at like I do."
"Oh stop it." He smiled under his dark mop of hair. "You flatter me too much."
"You deserve it." Paul looked over and noticed the staring. We're such queers, he thought, and that makes us criminals...but why?
"Okay...so on this album...we grow mustaches!" They all blinked dumbly. "Paul, I love you, but you're a bleeding idiot." Paul's face dropped. "I didn't say permanently! Just for the one album! I mean, it's not hard to just shave!"
"Paul," John sighed, "you have the most babyish baby face I have seen in my whole life." He smirked at the way his face heat up. "I do not! Do I have a baby face, George?"
"Yes," he answered immediately. "Agreed." Ringo shot him a sympathetic look. "Sorry."
"I can grow stubble!"
"Wanna bet?" Ringo watched the scene unfold, pulling popcorn out of nowhere. "You want some, Geo? I got caramel and butter." The arguing stopped for a brief moment. "Wha...why? Just...why?" Ringo frowned. "Fine, more for me." George grabbed it with a hiss. "Mine..."
"You're disturbing, Harrison." John turned to Paul. "I still say you have a babyface." He opened his mouth to protest, but he was cut off by his boyfriend grabbing his face. "You have chubby baby cheeks, and you have plump little baby lips...I could go on forever, honestly."
"Swine." Paul frowned as his face was squished. "You're so mean, at least let me try." John smirked. "Alright. But if I don't see anything by George's birthday, you have to admit I was right."
"Deal!" They shook hands as Ringo facepalmed. "I nearly forgot about his birthday in all this confusion! I feel terrible!"
"It's okay, Ringsy. We've had a lot on our minds lately, I'm just glad you're still concerned for your safety as well as mine." George placed a hand over his. "I'm happy with what I have right now. My family."
"Get a room," John chimed in. "Oh you little...let's get him!" John bolted down the hallway as the rest of them followed in hot pursuit, Paul doing a rather impressive hurdle over a chair.