Wake up at 7:00am. Wake up Rachael since she's too lazy to set an alarm. Feed Bing or else he'll never stop meowing. Eat breakfast. Shower. Get dressed. Do some girly stuff. Go to work at nine. This was how it was, day in and day out for Elizabeth Henderson and her best friend Rachael Smith. They'd been doing this for the past two years, ever since they scored a job at the nicest hotel in New York. There was never change. Never something unexpected. Nothing new. Life was a routine. But that's how Lizzy preferred it. She savored the calmness and security that a rigidly uninteresting life brought. Judge her, I dare you.

"Elizabeth, hurry up or we're going to be late!" A familiar voice echoed through the small, cramped five room flat that Liz and Rachael shared. Lizzy stubbornly ignored the Rachael's nagging as she stood in front of the bathroom mirror. She adjusted her tattered white apron, slightly worn from being out on so much. Her dress was no better off, and her black heels had lost most of their shine. But Elizabeth herself managed to look somewhat better than plain, with their straightened golden blonde hair and complimentary amount of makeup. With one last smoothing down of the hair, Liz grabbed her small handbag and headed into the living room where Rachael was pacing about moodily. If there was one thing that Rachael hated, it was tardiness. Which was strange for her, since she was awfully lazy. Rachael was a year older than Lizzy, and a few inches taller. Her hair was chestnut brown and cut stylishly short, she had hazel-green eyes, and expressive, sharp eyebrows. They had been friends since first grade, and though they both attended college for a time, they both decided to drop out and move in together. It was so much simpler trying to make a living rather than going through all that painstaking work to get a degree.

"Gosh, Liz, how long does it take to throw on a goddamn dress and be done with it?" she said sternly, though there was a tiny hint of a smile on her face. With a roll of her eyes, Liz delivered a playful punch to Rachael's shoulder, and giggled as they headed out onto the sidewalk.

"Well, I might have been out sooner if someone hadn't taken so long to get out of the shower," she retorted, waving down a bright yellow taxi. They sat in the backseat together, their heads turned in opposing directions as they drove along. The hotel was a mere ten minutes away from their flat, but for some reason it seemed to be taking longer. Liz's azure blue eyes drifted ahead of her, and she saw lines of cars and more people than usual bustling along on the sidewalk.

"Traffic's bad today," she murmured to herself, sitting back and praying no one would notice if they came into work late. They finally reached the tall, elegant hotel, but a surprising sight greeted them there. Hundreds of teenage girls were flocked together outside the hotel's front entrance, screaming various obscenities that the girls didn't catch. There was also plenty of paparazzi to be seen, with their flashing cameras and pens and paper. Dazed, but still aware that they were running late, the two girls hurriedly made their way to the back entrance and quietly came into the lobby. No one even acknowledged their presence, and they both breathed silent sighs of relief. But before Liz could even speak a work, she felt Rachael hastily tugging her along into a room behind the front desk where they could clock in.

"Oh my gosh, Liz," Rachael whispered breathlessly to her friend. She was absolutely beaming, her eyes alight with excitement. "What's up with you? Why are you breathing so heavily? We didn't even run," Liz said, arching a pointed eyebrow at her friend. She'd hardly ever seen her friend act like this before. It was a strange sight. Rachael paused a moment to catch her breath before she continued. "It's the Beatles! They're here. I should've known. They flew in today. They're playing at Shea Stadium in two weeks. And they're staying here! Can you believe it? Do you think we'll get to see them? Maybe even clean their room?" she blabbered ceaselessly, her cheeks burning bright red at the thought of being able to even see her favorite band in person. Liz knew how unhealthy Rachael's obsession with the Beatles was. She never shut up about them, it seemed. Elizabeth honestly couldn't care less about them. She didn't like many of the songs she had heard by them. They were just another boy band to her. She had plenty of other things to focus on. They had been running low on cash. She was just trying to make a decent living here in this big city.

"Maybe. We'll have to see, huh?" Liz responded to Rachael's fangirling, feigning excitement and forcing a painfully fake smile. She didn't want to spoil all Rachael's fun, so she decided just to be nice about it. Though she knew in her heart that these Beatles were the last people she'd like to see.