Hi (: This is my first time posting here, and I hope you all enjoy what I write. I'm a huge Beatles fan so I couldn't help but write this. Just so you all know, this isn't all going to go in proper order. I might skip a few things here and there, but that's only for the sake of the story. I will try my hardest to keep things on track with what really happened, though. Anyway, enjoy!

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please please me – chapter one

1963

Eleanor Lennon let out a loud, frustrated sigh as her back rested against the brick wall of the busy night club. Her eyes were closed and one hand was stuffed into the pocket of her long, black coat that was thrown across her black, halter neck dress. Her black heels patted across the cement when she switched feet to lean on against the wall.

She felt tears stinging her eyes, but she forced them away. You are not crying over him. She told herself. She always told herself that. It never seemed to work. She ran a hand through her dark hair, letting out a long drag.

She was used to it. It had happened over and over again, but it just seemed to be too much now. Yes, it was expected. Yes, she pretended not to care in front of him. But she was so sick and tired of him brushing it off as if it were nothing.

She looked down at her feet, hoping that tonight he would admit he was wrong, that all those women were useless and she was the only one he would ever love. And sleep with.

Being married to a Beatle had it perks, but this was its main low. The man of your dreams sleeping with woman after woman, and simply not caring what you had to say.

"You a'right, Eleanor?" said a voice from her side.

She looked up through her hair and squinted, trying to make out who it was in the dark. "Oh, heya, George." she said, giving him a little wave.

"Evening." He said, stepping closer. "You didn't answer me question."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Are you a'right?"

She shrugged. "I'm fine. Just tired, it's been a long day."

George nodded, but he didn't look as if he believed her. "Can I have a ciggy?" he asked, pointing to her cigarette in her mouth.

She nodded, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the small box. She pulled it out, handing to him, and he took it, politely, with a gentle touch. He placed it in his mouth and she reached up and light his cigarette with her purple lighter, before placing it and the pack back into her pocket.

"Thanks, luv." he said, leaning against the wall next to her.

"It's fine." She mumbled. "It's bad to smoke, you know?" she said.

"Eh?" George spoke. "You doin' it, too."

"You'll be letting down a whole lotta people when you die." she told him.

George looked confused before answering. "And you won't be?"

She shook her head.

"John?" he asked.

She scoffed. "Right."

"He'd care," he told her.

She looked up at him, smiling a fake smile to make it look as believable as she possibly could. "I s'pose."

"He does love you." George told her.

She looked ahead at the street was busy.

"He might...you know, do what he does, but he loves you."

She closed her eyes and nodded.

"Oi, George!" came a voice from the side. It was John. He had two blondes by his side, giggling, hands all over him. "I'm leavin' now, mate." He winked. "Take care of 'er." He said, gesturing to Eleanor with a slight, uncaring nod.

George looked over at her; she was looking in the opposite direction. George nodded. He would normally make some encouraging comment, but knew better this time. "Right," he said, and watched John pile into one of the four personal cars which would take them to the hotel they were staying at.

"Yeah, he loves me." She said, sarcastically.

George turned back to look at her, and saw the look in her eyes. It hurt him, to see her in such a state. "What time you leaving?"

She shrugged. "Now, I guess. Ain't no point hanging 'round," she said, removing her foot from against the wall. "Bye George." she smiled, leaning in to give him a hug. "Goodnight."

"G'night," he said, puffing on his cigarette. "Want me to get the taxi?" He asked.

"Oh, I was just gonna walk." She said, turning around to face him.

George shook his head. "John'll want me to take care of his bird, luv."

Eleanor sighed. "I'll be fine, thanks."

George stepped forward. "Eh, John would hunt me down if he knew I'd let you walk home on your own."

She smiled, "You sure?"

George nodded, a small crooked smile beginning to peer across his lips.

She shrugged. "Thanks."

***

Eleanor let out a loud laugh at George's story. "Are you serious?"

"Yes," he grinned, "we basically left him out there for a bit of a laugh."

"You left Paul out in the rain for a laugh? You lot are so mean!"

George laughed along with her. "Bloody idiot deserved it if you ask me," he said, as they continued to walk down the empty street. "Him and John were always pickin' on Ringo back then."

Eleanor stopped walking. "Are you serious?"

George stopped beside her and nodded. "Yeah, not much, you know. Still not nice though, hey."

She nodded. "You were always nice to him, though?" She asked, hopeful the answer would be yes, as the two of them began walking again.

"Oh, yeah, 'course I was, luv. It's nice havin' him 'round. Someone that wasn't mad and all. John and Paul were always the ones lookin' for all the fun and that. It's to just nice sit back sometimes."

Eleanor nodded. "Tell me about it." She said, staring at the ground. "Must be hard for you lot."

"Mmm, it's pretty wild. Nice right now though, bein' on this break and all."

"Still, must be hard not to be able to walk down the street without someone underage throwing themselves at you."

George laughed. "Yeah, it's crazy. This is the only time I can go out without being recognised, really."

"What, dead in the middle of the night?"

George laughed again. "That's the basic idea. When it's way past all the girls' bed times."

George was expecting her to laugh or agree with his comment, but she remained quiet. He looked down at her; she seemed to be out of it, not exactly with the conversation. "You right, luv?" He asked.

She turned her head to face him quickly, forcing a smile. "Just thinking."

"What 'bout?"

She was about to open her mouth, to spill her secret, but saw that they were nearing her house. Once they were outside of it, she spoke. "Well, this is it." She said, stepping outside the house and ignoring his question.

George nodded, hands in his coat pocket. "Have a good nigh', Eleanor." He told her.

"You too." She whispered, leaning against the gate.

George couldn't help but stare at her, her eyes more visible in the moonlight. They showed sadness. Simply sadness, and nothing else. He remembered at one point when she'd be all smiles, when those brown eyes would light up a room, and light up John's life. He missed those days.

"Goodnight." He said softly. His eyes remained on her lips; did they always look soft and delicate?

"Goodnight," she told him, before turning on her heels. "Thanks for walkin' me home."

"Welcome." He whispered.

She turned around again when she saw him still standing there, staring at her. "You alright?" She asked.

George nodded immediately, suddenly a bundle of nerves. He stepped backwards quickly, only to trip over his feet. "Shit!" He said, once he hit the ground.

"George, oh my god!" Eleanor cried out, pushing the gate open in a hurry. "Are you okay?" She asked, kneeling beside him.

"Fuck it." George muttered, pulling himself up. Eleanor reached her hand out, which George took to help balance himself. The minute he touched her he pulled back. He felt something. Like a spark. Some strange sort of warmth he'd never felt before.

"Are you okay?" She asked again.

George nodded, dusting himself off. "I'm alright, luv. Thanks. Just made a wanker of meself, but whatcha gonna do, aye?"

Eleanor let out a small giggle. "You sure you alright?"

George nodded, trying to hide his embarrassment. "I'm fine." He told her. "Listen, I uh, better head off now."

"Yeah, of course. Goodnight." She smiled. "Again."

"G'night, Eleanor." He so badly just wanted to hold her hand again, that kind spark he felt was addictive. Then he began to think – if one simple touch of the hand could make him feel like that, imagine what else she could do to him. A kiss would probably make him feel more warmth than a fire. He wanted to reach out to her and kiss her all night long, to show her that not all men were like John.

Jesus Christ, George, she's John's bird. You can't have her. Stop thinking like that.

"Bye." He said, quickly turning around and leaving her in a confused daze.

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So, that was it, haha. Please tell me if you guys enjoyed this, feedback is what keeps me going! By the way, chapters will be much longer than this one. Thanks for reading. (: