Disclaimer: I own nothing that you recognize.

August 17th, 1962

Try to see it my way.

Only time will tell if I am right or I am wrong.

A brown haired girl stood outside a club, biting her lip and looking up at a building. She clutched some papers in her left hand and her guitar in its case in her right, but couldn't bring herself to enter the door. It was only a nightclub, nothing to be afraid of, yet her stomach churned as if she were about to jump off a bridge.

"You're mad, Molly," she told herself in a whisper as she headed into the building.

Walking into the familiar club, Molly couldn't help but notice that by daylight, it was an entirely new place. The hazy atmosphere that usually cloaked the room was nothing but dry air, and garbage was scattered everywhere across the floor. Molly looked around the room, but didn't see anyone besides the janitor. She searched around the bar for the person she was supposed to meet, but instead found a group of three guys sitting at a table in the corner.

"Oi!" she called out, causing all three men to look at her, "Are you the band that's missing a member?"

"Aye," one of them called, "We haven't got a drummer."

"A dr-drummer?" Molly stuttered, her false bravado faltering, "I can't play the drums."

"Really? Then what the hell are ya doing here, eh?" he asked.

"I was…" Molly paused, trying to piece together what was happening. Was this all a joke? "I was told to come here because there was an opening," she muttered, her face turning red in humiliation, "I didn't know it was for a drummer."

"Sorry, love," a baby-faced guy said, "It looks like there's nothing here for you. Unless-"

"Molly!" a booming voice called out from across the bar, "You made it! I see you've met the boys."

Molly didn't know what to think. Here was the man who insisted she came here today, excited to see her, but there was the band she was supposed to be auditioning for, telling her she was unnecessary as a musician.

"C'mon, have a seat," Brian Epstein said, "We need to talk to you."

"Thank you, Mr. Epstein," she said, "but I really should be off. I'm not a drummer."

"Don't let the boys scare you," he said, taking a seat at the table, "We don't want you as a drummer."

"Then what do we need her for?" the first guy asked.

"I'm afraid that once you start becoming successful, you won't get enough staying power if you don't work up a male fan base. You've been doing quite well with the girls, but no one will take you seriously if only girls listen to you," Brian said.

"So what do you want us to do about it?" the first guy asked.

"It's not our faults we're devilishly handsome," the baby-faced guy said with a wink towards Molly.

"Be serious for two seconds in your lives, please," Brian said, "This is where Molly comes in. She'll be there for the boys to look at, you'll be there for the girls to look at, and you'll all make the music."

"But if she can't play the drums, what can she do?" the first guy asked.

Tired of being addressed as if she wasn't in the room, Molly answered for Brian.

"I can play piano and a little bit of guitar, and I could help with vocals. I've tried my hand at songwriting, but I'm really nothing special with it."

When the first guy narrowed his eyes, Molly added, "But what I lack in songwriting, I make up for in tambourine."

The first guy laughed. "Tambourine? Really?"

The corners of Molly's mouth pulled up as she stifled a grin. "I'm a natural."

"What's that you got there?" Baby-Face asked.

"Oh, these?" Molly said, looking at the papers in her hand, "They're just some songs I was working on. You can look at them if you like."

She passed the papers to Baby-Face, and bit her lip nervously as he read them.

"They're pretty good," he reluctantly admitted, "Could use some work."

"So, what do you guys think?" Brian asked.

The third member, speaking for the first time, said, "I dunno. You seem like a nice girl and all, but I just don't like the sound of 'The Beatles and Beatlette.'"

"I'm not being called a fucking Beatlette," Molly blurted out.

As the four men laughed, Molly's face turned bright red. What a perfect way to be immediately kicked out.

"I say we keep her," Baby-Face said, "What about you, John?"

The first guy still had a sort of scowl on his face, "I dunno."

"Couldn't you play us something?" the third suggested.

"Great idea, Georgie. Play us this song you wrote," Baby-Face suggested.

"Er, okay," Molly said hesitantly, taking her guitar out. "It's not perfect-"

"Just get on with it," John said.

Molly's face turned bright red, and she started playing her guitar. After an encouraging smile from Baby-Face, she sang, "If I fell in love with you, and you said you'd love me too, could we be more than friends? Because I've been in love before, and I've found that love was more than just playing pretend. If I fall in love with you, I must be sure that you'd love me too, and we won't break each other's hearts. If I fall in love, oh please, don't run and hide. If I fall in love with you, don't hurt my pride like her's, because I couldn't stand the pain, and I would feel like running outside in the rain. So I hope you see that I would love to love you."

She finished the song, and waited nervously for any reaction from the guys. Molly swore she saw a grin tugging at Baby-Face's lips, but she couldn't be sure since no one made a sound until the first guy spoke.

"Those lyrics need work," John said, "and it needs to be sped up."

Molly's face fell at his comments, but she immediately perked up when he continued.

"I think we could make it work," John said with an almost-smile, "What do you think, Paulie?"

Paul, the baby-faced guy, grinned. "I agree. What about you, George?"

George studied Molly for a minute, and she stared back, trying to decipher the look on his face. After a minute, he nodded.

"Great," Brian said, clapping his hands together, "Then it's settled. I'll get a contract written up for you right away. Welcome to the Beatles, Molly!"

"Wow," Molly said, "I don't… I don't know what to say!"

"Here's a hint," Paul said, "You can start with a thank you."

"Thank you!" she nearly screamed, "Thank you Paul, and George, and John, and Mr. Epstein! Thank you!"

Brian chuckled.

"No need for all that formality," he said, "Brian's good enough. Now, I've got to find you lot a drummer, so if you'll excuse me."

Brian stood up to leave, and John shouted after him, "Ringo!"

"I heard you the first fifteen times," Brian grumbled.

"Tambourine Molly, eh?" John asked with a laugh, turning his attention back to the table.

Molly wasn't paying any attention whatsoever. Brian's words kept echoing in her head.

"Great," John huffed, "We've got ourselves a space cadet."

"Oi," Paul said, waving his hands in front of Molly's face, "Earth to the Beatlette."

"I'm not a -" Molly said, immediately snapping back to reality, "Sorry. I meant I'd like to be a Beatle, not a bloody Beatlette."

"Right now you're nothing," John said, "Not until you talk to George Martin, and something tells me he won't like this idea too much."

"But I've already talked to him." Molly said.

When she saw the incredulous looks on John, Paul, and George's faces, she explained, "I was doing a show at the bar down the street, and he was there with Brian. After the show, they came up to me and said they'd been at me past couple shows and liked me sound. They said that they'd like for me to audition for The Beatles, and of course I said yes. Mr. Martin set up this audition and said that if you lot were fine with me, he'd be fine too."

John and Paul looked at each other while George just narrowed his eyes.

"Listen, Molly," he said, "If you wanted to shag one of us, ya could've just said so when you walked in. I'm sure one of us would've obliged. Ya didn't need to create this bull shit story about auditioning for the band."

"This isn't some 'bull shit story,'" Molly spat, "It's the truth. I've got the business card to prove it."

She fished the card from her pocket and threw it at George.

"I just want to play me music," she said.

Paul's smirk lit up his whole face. "I think you'll fit in."

John rolled his eyes. "We can only hope."

While you see it your way,

There's a chance that we may fall apart before too long.

AN: Would you look at that? In one chapter, we've met the protagonist, three of The Beatles, and I've successfully changed the past! I typically don't have updates out this quickly, but I have a couple chapters written already, and I couldn't leave you hanging with that last one, could I? Again, I'm sorry if the idea of a female Beatle bothers you, but in a fandom that accepts time travel, we can accept this too, can't we? I'd love to hear your thoughts on this, so please review! :-D