Hey guys, I was figuring since Beatles fanfiction is mainly OC'S falling in love with one of the boys(no offense to anyone, there nothing wrong with those stories) or slash, I thought I'd try my hand at writing something a bit different and new. So lone and behold, you've got yourself a collection of witty misadventures during the Beatles first U.S tour as seen through the eyes of not your average Beatle lover, but of a tacky, awkward roadie/friend of the boys. So yah now that that's done let's get on with the story! Please review:).
Early January 1964
"We did it Peg! We're goin' to America!" Paul McCartney, a boy, or I guess it's man now, told me picking me up like I was still half my age and swinging me around as if we were Lindy hop finalist. I'd known Paul since his sneaking into strip clubs and doodling vulgar images of woman beside his fanatical poems days, and I have never seen him so excited. In fact I haven't seen any of them so excited.
They came to the studio and tackled me with there news as if we were playing rugby and were giddy with excitement. And what can I say, I think I wet my pants a little when they told me(okay not in that way you creeps). I laughed and hollered like the rest of them, not caring that Paul had caused me to bang my elbow on a wall.
"I-I don't know what to say." I stammered breathless. "Really?" I mouthed and Paul put me down and I had a chance to breath. "Congrats."
"You mean to tell me we've just got done bookin' a deal in the states and all you've got to say is 'congrats'. Bloody 'ell Peggy." John had a crisp grin on that sly face of his, and I knew he was only fooling.
It had taken me a while, but I could finally tell when he was kidding around with me. Back in the old days, when I was eight and nine years old with a bad crush on him, I was constantly afraid of messing up around him. It seemed whatever I did though, he was always mean and displeased with me. 'Course when George and Paul educated me in the way of John and my little girl first crush died off, me and John became cool with each other, best blokes of the sort.
"Well what can I say, that's gear, right to it, real boss and all, for you guys. I ain't goin' anywhere, but be sure to send letters and records." I explained. It was my common rule for whenever they went off touring, going back to there Hamburg days when I'd tearfully type out letters instead of school work and would get back a effortless scribbled out note.
"Oh my dearest Peggth, how could thou forget such a wicked bitch? My yearning for you shallth never dyth, oh my sweet Peggth." Ringo grabbed my hands and kept up with the same joke he always used when greeting me, which started when George told me a lie that he fancied me to get us to hang out more.
"Yeah and your coming with us anyways." George said a smile a mile wide on his thin handsomer-than-life-to-a-girl-who-doesn't-see-him-as-a-brother face.
"GEORGE!" Everyone else groaned and Ringo hit him hard but playfully on the back, Paul socked him in the side and John purposely spilled some of his water bottle on him.
"Wait I'm coming with?!" I gasped, hardly able to keep from fainting, my head spinning.
"Ow, hey, what was that for?" George yelped.
"Nice going Georgie, we were going to surprise her with that news tonight at the dinner, as an early birthday gift. Now we'll have to buy her a birthday gift too." John pouted.
"Yeah" Ringo and Paul chimed in.
"So I'm going?" I asked, looking kind of slap happy.
"Damn kid you really are thick and slow." John muttered lowly, which translates to "of course, why wouldn't you come" in Lennonese.
"Oh my gosh, thank God, Jesus and Buddy Holly I'm going to 'merica!" I exclaimed hardly able to contain my excitement. Ever since I was a little girl watching the sea from the docks in Liverpool I'd only dreamt of America. It was a heaven of the sorts, far away, a distant paradise. It was where all the good stuff was, the rockers, the dances, the records, the freedom. I thought I'd never get a chance at it, and now my girl hood dreams were coming true.
"America" Paul corrected me shortly. "And you'll need to do work, Eppy wanted John to recruit a new roadie and he was lazy so he chose you."
"Yeah plus you've helped us a lot in the past year or so, I mean you almost got trampled to death in Bristol to get us fizzy drinks." Ringo smiled.
"You've earned it." George added, playing with on of my dark ringlets that he thought I couldn't see from around my shoulder. I said something, but I don't think he heard.
"Gee thanks." I breathed, not knowing what to do. It was just far too good to be true. I expected John to shout "gotcha" and Mr. Martin to pop out of a closet or something and tell me that it was all a joke while Tony Barrow filmed the whole thing. But after a few moments, it dwelled on me that it all really was true. A smile started on my face and I started feeling really hyper. So by the time Brian Epstein, the boy's manager walked through the door, I was dancing on a swivel chair to a demo for a new single that I had been told specifically not to touch. We were all having a bit of a riot out of the occasion.
"Boys! Peggy!" He shouted, running in the studio and quickly flipping off the demo, as John did the same to him.
"What in the blazes is going on in here?! For God's shake can't you act civil?" He went on, clearly upset.
"No" The boys all answered in unison.
"We're children Eppy, complete children." John added in a high pitched whine.
"Well they are at least." Paul added good naturedly.
"Aw you suck up!" John shouted back to Paul.
Just then George Martian, the producer walked in and his smile and happy whistling turned to a look of shock. He didn't speak for a moment and when he did, it was sort of awkward. "What happened to the wall?"
I turned and saw a large whole in the wall from where Paul spun me around and my foot hit the wall. I hadn't noticed that it left a hole.
"Peggy." John smirked holding back a laugh. So we're back on fat jokes I thought to myself, still to happy to care. Now I'm not exactly small, but I'm not fat either, just a bit chubby, but when I was younger, I did look kind of fat. So John made it a joke to blame everything on my weight, and every once in a while, it comes back, usually with me getting pretty upset. But I was too content to care at the moment, and I was lost in my dreams of America. Not hearing John, Mr. Martin went on.
"Well anyways I came to get you all for dinner, boys you've all done wonderful, and now it seems all your hard work has come to something. I can't tell you how proud I am." He told everyone, looking very happy in his own mature way.
"Yes food! I'm starving!" George stopped chewing on the tart he'd had in his hand and walked to the door as if his life depended on it. I just rolled my eyes and laughed before catching Eppy's disapproving eye. Eppy, as we called him to save time, had never cared for me. He saw me as a distraction, an annoyance and couldn't understand why I was still around what was now his band.
"Peggy where is your father?" He asked me coldly as Ringo, John and Paul all followed George and Martian out of the studio.
"Um my father?" I asked, dazed as he prevented me from leaving with everyone else. "He's dead in the ground, you know that." I laughed nervously, making a joke out of how I was an orphan, though I knew what he meant. He meant Thompson, my foster parent.
"Yes Peggy, your father, the man legally in charge of you, he should be coming to pick you up right about now shouldn't he?" Eppy asked, obviously not finding me amusing. I gulped.
"But I thought-" I started, feeling my heart sink and tears start down my face.
"Thompson's at the restaurant, you told me to invite the whole road crew." John said from nowhere, stepping behind Eppy. I gave him a grateful look, though I was piecing things together, and getting kinda pissed. The boys had chosen me as their third roadie, but they hadn't told Eppy about it probably because they knew he'd say no. So my chance of going with them was really more of a maybe.
"You mean to tell me John Winston Lennon, that you assigned Peggy Sue Stirring as a roadie!? She's fourteen." Eppy cried turning around.
"Well Thompson said it was fine, I already asked him, he got the paper work and everything ready." John explained. I stood there, awkwardly until I saw John mouth to me "It's fine, go on."
I nodded and walked around the now ranting Eppy, mouthing "thanks" back to John. I skipped down the steps of the studio after my friends, hardly able to contain my excitement. For I had caught the look in John's eye, and I knew he'd won. I was going to America with my best mates. I was going to America with the Beatles.
Okay so I'll admit, that was a kinda hard to follow chapter, but I am editing it and trying to make it better. I've never been this excited for a fanfic! I'll update asp, as in later today, so stay tuned if you'd like. As always thanks a ton for reading.