Chapter Four

(Also, just a short side note, I don't think I ever really made this clear. It's around the end of September in 1963 right now. Mel came to England around the middle of July, and it's been two months. If I said anything about it being any earlier in any other chapters, I apologize. Just pretend like I said it was 1963 all along haha)

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I woke up again, at a reasonable hour this time, with only a slightly worse headache. It took me a few minutes to remember why I was in a large, unfamiliar bed and wearing a long shirt. Then I remembered the events of last night, and began worrying all over again. What would I do? Paul and John certainly weren't going to let me go back to Thomas. Not that I really wanted to. To be honest, I was glad they were doing this.

I sighed I stood up, deciding I would figure everything out later. I looked around the room to see if there was anything interesting I could get myself into. There wasn't. The walls were a pale white with black lining. The dresser was black, along with the bed. The bed had plain white sheets and pillows on it, and the bedside table was black as well. The room had a very sophisticated look to it, and it was kind of intimidating. There was a lamp on the dresser, along with a mirror propped up on the wall. Looking at my reflection, I grimaced.

My brown hair was messy and knotted in places, ending just below my breasts. My face looked pale, and my eyes both looked like I had been punched in my face. The makeup I had never washed off smeared all around my light blue eyes. I looked Death.

I opened the door, and then closed it softly behind me. I had no idea who was still sleeping and who may have had a horrible hangover. I looked down the hallway, trying to decide which way the bathroom would be. I saw the kitchen to my left, so I decided that would be my best chance. I walked as quietly as my bare feet would allow me, and winced every time I stepped on a creak in the floorboards… which was a lot.

I walked into the white kitchen expecting it to be empty, but I was wrong. Apparently I was the last one to wake up. All four boys stopped talking and turned to look at me. I heard John whistle, and Ringo and George stifle their laughs.

"Well Paulie, she definitely does that shirt more justice than you ever could," John said. The other two whooped in agreement, and my face turned red. I pulled down on the bottom of the shirt to make it cover up more of my legs.

"You look like you got in a bit of a rumble last night, with those eyes!" Ringo exclaimed, noticing my smeared makeup.

"I was thinking more of a raccoon," George joked. I grinned at him and tried to wipe away some of the makeup, but only succeeded in smearing it more. I sighed in defeat.

"Where's the washroom?" I asked, giving them a sheepish smile. Ringo chuckled and pointed down the hall. I nodded gratefully and walked quickly to that direction, making sure to hold down the shirt so it didn't ride up and give the guys a show.

As I made my way to the washroom, I wondered if Paul and John had told the other two about Thomas. I figured they had, as they weren't at all surprised by me being here. I slipped into the washroom and locked the door behind me.

It was clean, cleaner than I expected from this group of men, but there were still things like razors and toothbrushes scattered around on the counter. Turning on the faucet, I splashed the cool water on my face. I did that for about five minutes, making sure I got all the makeup off. I turned off the faucet and looked in the mirror. The makeup was gone, but now you could clearly see the bags under my eyes from not sleeping well these past few weeks. I sighed. At least I didn't look like a raccoon any more.

I walked back into the kitchen, once again gaining the attention of the four boys. I suddenly felt very self-conscious, standing here without makeup on in front of some of the most famous boys in Britain. I stood there awkwardly, not sure what to say or do. Luckily, John spoke up, sensing my awkwardness.

"So, have you thought about what we're going to do next?" He asked, taking a sip of his tea. I rubbed one of my eyes with my hand and sighed, shaking my head.

"No, not yet. I don't really know what I'm going to do," I said, suddenly sounding tired. "I was planning on leaving soon, but I never really put thought into how I was going to do it, where I was going to go, and how to avoid Thomas's er... reaction."

John and Paul nodded thoughtfully, but Ringo and George looked confused.

"What are you lot going on about?" George asked. Now it was my turn to be confused.

"Didn't they tell you?" I asked. Both shook their heads. I was even more confused. "Then haven't you wondered at all why I'm here?"

Ringo shrugged, and George snorted with laughter. "I mean, it's not abnormal to wake up and have a bird in the house," he said. Ringo nodded with agreement.

"Paul brings home a lot of girls... And you're wearing Paul's shirt, so we just figured..."

It took me a few minutes to register what they were implying. When it finally did hit me though, my facial expression turned into one of surprise and I blushed again. "You thought that... we... God no!" I finally blurted out. John, Ringo and George laughed, and Paul looked slightly offended, though I didn't know if he was genuinely offended or not.

"Look at that Paul, we found a birdie that actually doesn't want to take you to bed!" John exclaimed through his laughter.

"Yeah, she seemed pretty repulsed at the idea of it," Ringo added.

"It's not that, I mean I'm not repulsed- it's jus- I... Oh, I'm just going to stop talking now," I muttered. Paul looked amused, and John chuckled. Standing up, he ruffled Paul's hair as he walked past.

"Looks like there's still some hope for ya Paulie. Be back soon love, gonna go get meself cleaned up. Then we'll talk about what to do next," he told me before disappearing down the hall. I took the seat he gave up, and sighed.

"So are you ever going to tell us what's going on, then?" I heard Ringo ask. I looked up, and saw Paul looking at me. He gave a look that said, "Should I?" I just shrugged and nodded.

I drifted off into my own thoughts as Paul explained everything to George and Ringo.

I noticed that while Paul was explaining, Ringo kept glancing my way. He would look away quickly once my eye caught his though. I smiled to myself slightly, thinking that Ringo was actually quite adorable. He just seemed so sweet and innocent. Though him being a Beatle and all, I'm sure he was far from innocent. But he sure seemed less cocky than the others.

John walked back into the room around the same time Paul finished telling my story. He winked at me and then leaned against the kitchen counter and waited for Paul to finish. Once he did, George spoke first.

"Why would he do something like that? Out of all lowest thing a lad can do, its beat his girl." The others nodded in agreement. I just shrugged and told them about the time at the club when he first hit me. From the corner of my eye I saw Ringo cringe slightly when I got to the part about him slapping me.

"Why didn't you ever leave? I know I sure as hell wouldn't put up with that," Paul said, leaning forward. I froze up there, not sure what to say.

Because he threatened my life, that's why, I thought. Because I actually kind of enjoy living..

Judging by the horrified looks that crept on to their faces, that last part wasn't just a thought. Great.

"What do you mean by that?" John asked, pushing away from the counter and walking to my side. I just sat there, unsure of what to say. I opened my mouth a few times, but nothing really came out but weird noises, so I closed it again. Paul repeated John's question, looking at me with concern.

I felt a hand on my leg, and looked up to meet Ringo's eyes and warm smile. "You can tell us, Melissa. We only want to help."

His smile seemed to just make me feel safe for some reason. I gave him a small smile back, which seemed to make his grow larger. I finally tore my eyes away from Ringo and looked around. They were all waiting for me to explain my comment. I sighed and took a shakey breath. Tears came to my eyes for some reason, and I fought to keep them back. I didn't want to look like an emotional wreck in front of these guys.

"I wanted to leave," I started, "I tried, actually. The night I met you guys, when he dragged me out of that cavern. He basically called me a whore for being with you guys, then started to talk about how he was out bedding other girls. He told me that I was lucky he was so nice, otherwise my sorry ass would be on the streets."

They all listened attentively, not making a sound. I didn't fail to notice that Ringo's hand was still on my leg.

"So I told him that if he didn't care so much, then I would leave. Anything was better than staying with him at that point. He hit me suddenly a-and.." I got too choked up to speak without the tears breaking through, so I stopped. Ringo's hand rubbed up and down my leg soothingly before he relocated it to my hand. He gave it a gentle, comforting squeeze. As he did that, the soft spot I had in my heart for him grew tremendously, and I somehow managed to go on.

"H-he.. he threatened to kill me," I whispered. I felt Ringo's hand tense up, and the other three had similar reactions.

"He said what?" John said, nearly shouting the last word. Paul stood up and John and George did shortly after as well.

"We're going to go get your stuff from this prick," Paul stated, walking towards the door. I stood up quickly and found myself quite sad when I had to tear my hand away from Ringo's.

"Wait," I said, walking quickly to his side. "As much as I would love to leave him, I-I can't just leave!" I exclaimed, throwing my hands up.

"And why not?" John asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Because I have nowhere to go! If I went to Kathleen's house he would just find me and harass me there! I can't afford to stay at a hotel because I don't have any money. And I can't get a job if I have nowhere to live. So pretty much, I have to put up with him if I don't want to be homeless," I explained.

John seemed to consider this for a moment, then looked at Paul, who looked at George, who looked at Ringo. They all looked at each other, seeming to have a silent conversation with one another. I stood there, rather annoyed that they were leaving me out.

"I don't know.. I mean, it would look bad," George said finally to Paul. "I mean, I know she's a great gal and all, but we've only just met her last week."

"I could really care less about publicity or when we met her. She's our friend, and she's got nowhere else to go! I sure as hell am not letting the poor thing go back to a home where her life is in danger," Paul said firmly. John nodded next to him.

"I agree. We may be famous, but we are still human. Sure we'll get shit for it, but we're going to get shit for any fucking thing we do, not matter what it is. We're the Beatles, for Christ's sake. Can't even talk to a bird anymore without the public thinking I'm going to be the father to her children!"

"But what about Brian? He'd go ape!" George pointed out. Paul rolled his eyes.

"Brain's a pushover. We'll have him on our side in no time."

George sighed, defeated. Then he gave me a charming smile as a way of apologizing, I guessed. I was still clueless as to what was going on.

"It's decided then!" Paul clapped his hands together smiling, "You're going to stay with us!"

John cheered and slapped me on the back, grinning. "It'll be fun having a bird around all the time. We could use someone that can actually cook. I think Paul's given me food poisoning more times than I can count!"

Paul shrugged, but laughed. I looked at them like they were crazy.

"Guys, I'm flattered really, but I can't live with you guys!"

I saw Ringo's smile fall. "Well why not?" He asked.

"Because you guys are the Beatles!" I said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You guys have tons of fans, and tons of reporters, a-and what happens when you guys go on tour?"

"You'd come with us, of course!" Ringo exclaimed, smiling again. Paul and John nodded. They must have seen how reluctant I still was, because John added, "Plus, all the fans would be a good thing. That means that we always have bodyguards. So that prick couldn't get close to you even in his dreams."

I think ultimately that was what won me over and made me finally agree, but the other part of it was because why in the world would I pass up a chance to live with the four most famous guys in Britain? I'd have to be pretty stupid to do that.

I changed back into my dress quickly so I didn't have to go out in public in just Paul's shirt, and made it back to the car just in time. A very impatient and angry Paul was about to drive off, and a very just as angry and impatient John was sitting in the passenger seat shouting at me to hurry up.

The whole ride back to Thomas's flat was a very nerve wracking time for me, and I kept bouncing my leg anxiously. What if he was there and tried to stop me? What if he saw I was with the boys? What if they all got into a huge fight? What if.. what if he hurt one of them?

Once again, Ringo placed his hand on my leg to get me to stop bouncing it. He kept it there and began to tap random rhythms while staring around the car aimlessly. I looked up at him and he finally looked down at me and gave me a cheesy grin that gave me a weird feeling in my stomach.

I smiled back at him, but had to look away because I realized I had begun to blush. From the corner of my eye I saw him chuckle quietly and turn to stare out George's window. He didn't stop tapping on my leg.

"This is it right? Kathleen gave me the address so that's how we got here last night, but I don't have the best memory in the world," Paul grinned at me. I laughed nervously and nodded.

"Yeah. We're here," I said breathlessly. The nervous feeling in my stomach escalated and I felt like I was going to be sick. As Paul looked for a place to park though, that feeling was gone in an instant when I realized that Thomas's car wasn't here. "He's not here!" I exclaimed.

"Well good. Then we can get your stuff and get out without a problem," John said smiling.

"It's a shame really, I was hoping to give him a piece of my mind," Paul frowned. George laughed and reached over the seat to pat him on the head. He parked the car quickly, and we all got out. I stopped for a minute and looked at the building, nervously.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked over to see Ringo, once again, smiling at me. "Ready love?"

I nodded and gave him a weak smile back. His hand slid to the back of my shoulder, and he gave me a gentle push to get me walking. He didn't drop his hand once I finally did start walking. From the corner of my eye, I saw George nudge John and then point at me and whisper something. A look of realization came across John's face, and he smiled like an idiot and began to dance in place. He saw me looking at him and stopped dancing and winked at me. I just rolled my eyes and kept walking.

When we reached the door, I tried the doorknob to confirm that he was gone. It was locked, so I knew he was out. I bent down and picked up the flowerpot and then picked up the small key. At least he was too much of an idiot to move the key.

I opened the door and walked into the small flat, stepping aside so the others could follow me in. The curtains were closed so it took me a few for my eyes to adjust to the dim lightening. Once they did, I gasped at the sight before me.

"Shit Melissa, did a tornado come through this place?" I heard Paul say next to me. I just shrugged, wordlessly. It did look like a tornado had come through.

Books were thrown all across the room, the lamps were all smashed and the pieces were scattered around the room, the tv had a gaping hole in it, and the kitchen table was overturned.

My first thought was that we had been robbed, but when I ran to the room where all my stuff was, nothing was missing. Just… destroyed.

A lot of my clothes were scattered around the room, all in rags. My favorite books had been destroyed as well. The pages had been ripped out and ripped to shreds and placed into a pile. But I think the worst part and the most heartbreaking one, was the broken flute that lay on the bed.

I sat down on the bed and picked up the broken flute and ran my fingers across it. There were numerous dents in the head and body, the keys had been ripped off and it was even bent. The flute was broken beyond repair, or at least it just would have been cheaper to buy another one than fix it.

I started to cry as I held the flute. Stupid, I know, but the flute was my one and only passion, something I honestly enjoyed playing. I had been playing since I was a child, and this was my first flute. I treated it like it was my baby, and made sure nothing bad ever happened to it. It had gotten me through many recitals and musical competitions. As I stared at the broken flute I felt like a piece of my heart had been ripped out as well.

Paul and Ringo sat down on either side of me, John knelt down in front of me, and George hovered in the back. John took the flute from my hands and whistled lowly as he looked it over.

"Wow, he did some damage. You play the flute?"

"No, I just thought it was pretty so I decided to get it so I could stare it all day," I snapped. John looked up at me, surprised. He put the flute back into my lap and stood up, holding up his hands in a surrendering motion.

"Sorry love. Dumb question, I know."

I sighed shakily and shook my head. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped like that. It's just.. My flute was my baby, and now I feel like a mother who just lost her child."

"Well why don't you just get a new one?" Paul asked. I looked at him like he was crazy.

"Do you know how much these things cost? I can't 'just go get a new one'"," I told him. He looked down, embarrassed. He mumbled and apology and I stood up. "Well I guess I better start collecting any of the stuff he hasn't destroyed."

I grabbed my suitcase from the closet and saw that Thomas hadn't gotten to all my clothes. He left six shirts and a few sweaters, a couple pair of blue jeans, my only pair of sweatpants, three pairs of shorts, my shortest skirt, and all of my bras and underwear and socks. I threw all that in my suitcase and my shoes followed shortly after. Looking around the room and realizing I really had nothing else to grab, I told them that we could go now. John asked if I wanted to bring the flute, but I just shook my head.

As we walked back to the front door, Ringo caught up with me. He grabbed my suitcase from my hand and gave me a sad smile. I tried to grab it back from him, but he wouldn't let me. "No, I'm going to carry it for you," he told me. I tried to argue but he just shook his head. I sighed but still grinned at him. It was sweet.

Everything was going good; we got to the car, put everything away in the trunk, and were about to get back in the car. I thought about how lucky I was to pull this off without Thomas around, and how happy I was that I was finally getting away from him. I spoke to soon then.

"Melissa! Get your fucking ass over here right now!" I heard someone yell. I was in the process of opening the door, but I froze when I heard that.

"Looks like we've got company, eh?" John said, stepping back onto the sidewalk. I placed my hand on his arm and told him to wait. Taking a deep breath I walked over to Thomas. He looked down at me, fire burning in his eyes.

"Where the hell were you last night? And why the fuck didn't you come home?"

I guess I took too long to respond, because he grabbed my arm roughly and pulled me towards him, making me cry out. I opened my mouth to answer him, but Paul beat me to it.

"She was with us," he said. Thomas looked at Paul, at the other three, then back at me.

"Fucking whore," he spat. I flinched at his words as if he hit me, and this only seemed to make Thomas even more mad. "You're pathetic."

"I'll have you know that she was only with us last night because she was terrified to go home to you," John said, glaring at him.

"Maybe you should learn how to stay the fuck out of people's business," Thomas growled. John didn't like that one bit. I could tell he was just itching to punch him in the face.

"Maybe you shouldn't be such a prick and I wouldn't have to get into your business."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "Don't try and start shit with me, Lennon. Looks like there aren't any bodyguards around to save your ass. Just let me take Melissa back and you can be on your way."

John shook his head, laughing. "I don't need a damn bodyguard. I handled meself well before I needed bodyguards, I can handle meself now. I'm not letting you take her. She deserves better than a poor excuse of a man like you."

Thomas had apparently had enough of John's sass, as he grabbed my arm again and started to pull me towards the house. I fought back against him, and all four boys came to my aid.

"Get off me Thomas! I'm not going back with you!" I said in between grunts as I tried to pull my arm away. I heard Thomas growl, then felt the familiar feeling of his hand contacting with my face. It was the hardest slap I had ever felt, and my face felt like it was on fire. It didn't stop there though. Thomas pushed me back with so much force that I went flying backwards. Acting on instinct, I stuck out my hands to catch myself when I landed. That backfired horribly though, and I ended up landing on only my right hand. I cried out as pain seared up my arm. I closed my eyes, but the tears didn't stop, only came harder.

I felt a hand on my face and I immediately flinched away, scared it was going to be Thomas.

"No, no, no love! It's just me, its okay," someone said softly. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to get you up so we can get you to the car."

I opened my eyes and saw Ringo. I was so relieved that it wasn't Thomas that I immediately threw my arms around him. He was stiff for a minute and then returned the hug. The sudden movement of my right hand caused another surge of pain, and I winced. Ringo pulled away and helped me to my feet, leading me away from the other guys, who were now in a loud argument.

Once we were in the car, the voices were cut off and there was finally quiet. Well, quiet besides my occasional sob or whimper from the pain.

"I'm really sorry," I mumbled out quietly. "For all this. I shouldn't have dragged you guys into it.. It's my problem, not yours.. and now Paul, John and George are out there fighting something I should do, but I can't because I'm such a wimp. None of this would have happened if I just would have kept my mouth shut and-"

"And what? If you wouldn't have told us, you would have continued to live with that prick. Don't ever regret telling us about this. We're going to help you. Nobody deserves to be treated like that, especially not someone like you," He smiled.

As he said that, that feeling came back. That weird, tingly feeling in my stomach. Oh no. No, no, no. I was not developing a crush on this man. He was Ringo Starr, for crying out loud! Even if I did like him, I would have no chance. Plus, I hadn't really talked to him as much as I had John and Paul. I was not going to rush into my feelings like I did with Thomas. Look where that one got me.

I couldn't deny the fact that Ringo was a total sweetheart though, and as I hugged him for the second time, that tingly feeling intensified. Although at that time, my feelings were all messed up. During the hug, I suddenly started to cry harder into Ringo's shoulder. He was shocked at first, but then rubbed my back soothingly.

"What's wrong?"

"I wanted to leave him so bad, Ringo! I really did. But I was so scared.. After that night he threatened to kill me, h-he just got worse! I don't know why, but he did! I'm so terrified, because I've really done it now.. He's going to try and find me a-and.." I couldn't finish the last part. Ringo was silent for awhile.

"We won't let that happen, love. I won't let that happen," he finally said. I hugged him tighter when he said that, ignoring the intense pain in my hand. Our hug was broken up when the other three returned. They all got in quickly, laughing like crazy. Paul quickly pulled away and John kept looking back out the window. He then turned to me and grinned even wider.

"I may or may not have punched him in the face and broke his nose," he said quickly and breathlessly. My eyes widened, but I couldn't hold back the smile or the laugh.

"John, you're crazy… but thanks."

He winked, but then his smile dropped as he studied my face a bit more. "Christ Mel, he got your face good. It's already starting to bruise."

I touched my face with my good hand and winced as I pressed down where Thomas had hit me. I sighed. "I'm used to it by now, although that was the hardest slap I've ever received," I laughed dryly. "Besides, I have bigger problems to worry about." I held up right arm to show him my now swollen wrist.

"My God, that looks pretty bad. Is it broken?" George asked as he inspected it closely. I shrugged.

"I don't think so, I can move it, but what do I know?"

"Should we stop at the hospital?" Paul called out from the driver's seat. I immediately shook my head, eyes widening.

"No! No, I'm okay," I said quickly. John raised his eyebrows.

"Someone scared of the hospital?"

"No! I- I just don't think we need to go, it's not that bad, really," I laughed nervously. It was a lie though. I was absolutely terrified of hospitals. And needles. Just everything that had anything to do with hospitals.

"Don't worry John, we got some stuff at home that we can wrap it up with. Let's not make the poor girl go to the hospital if she doesn't want to," Ringo said, smiling down at me. For the third time that day, I just wanted to give Ringo a big hug, and that spot in my heart grew even more. John gave Ringo a weird look, but nodded before turning back around.

I scooted closer to Ringo so that our legs were touching, so I could whisper to him. "Thank you."

"No problem love. I've got your back." He gave me another boyish grin that would make any fan swoon, and I was no exception

Stop it Melissa. Stop it.

The whole ride back to their place was filled with conversation of what had just happened. They kept talking about Thomas's reaction with John punched him. I tried to listen, but I kept zoning out.

Was I really about to go live with the Beatles? A few of the most famous people in all of Britain? With thousands of fans that would literally kill to be in my place? It all seemed unreal. I mean, I had only met these four last week, and they already got me to move in with them.

Maybe it was too sudden. Maybe I should have gotten to know them better before I moved in with them. But where else was I going to stay? And they seemed to insist that I move in with them. I guess I would have plenty of time to get to know them now. Though I felt like even in the short time I've spent with them, I knew them pretty well. Well, better than most fans.

When we pulled up to their flat, I saw that a group of girls had formed just outside the gate. I was surprised, but I should have expected it. I mean, they were the Beatles.

"Dammit, the gatebirds are back," John groaned. The other three mumbled along. Apparently they weren't too fond of gatebirds.

When they saw the car pull up to the side of the road, they instantly began to scream and freak out. I suddenly got really nervous. What would they think when they saw me going into the home of the four Beatles?

"Mel, stay close to one of us. Gatebirds haven't tried anything on any other girl we've brought home, but we don't want to take any chances," Paul told me before getting out of the car. The screams got even louder and a chorus of "I love you Paul!"s rang out. The same thing happened as the other three stepped out. I took a deep breath and stepped out of the car.

I didn't have to look to see that everyone was looking at me. But when I did look, my suspicions were confirmed. All the girls were looking at me and whispering to one another. I suddenly felt too scared to take a step.

Ringo saw me standing like a frightened deer and laughed. He walked away from where he was signing autographs and walked to my side.

"C'mon scaredy-cat," he joked, putting an arm around my shoulder. I'm sure the tingly feeling in my stomach would have been much more intense, had I not been intimidated by the looks all the girls were giving me.

We walked back over to where Paul and George were signing autographs and John was flirting with a young woman who was wearing a very revealing top. I rolled my eyes. Typical John.

Feeling a bit more confident, I walked away from Ringo and grabbed John's arm. He looked around for his attacker that was pulling him away from the woman, probably assuming it was a fan. She gave me a dirty look and I just laughed. John finally realized it was me that was pulling him away, and his look of fear vanished.

"So long love, the devil has come to take me away!" He cried out dramatically to the woman. I scoffed and let go of him so I could smack his shoulder with my good hand.

"John Lennon, I am not the devil! I just don't want the poor girl to get her hopes up!"

"She's got you there mate. You tend to do that a lot. A small chat with a bird and she takes that as an invitation into your bed!" Paul exclaimed, walking up to us. John just laughed and finally walked up the steps and disappeared into the flat. Soon after the other three said goodbye and we all went inside.

Paul disappeared and then returned with a wrap to wrap my wrist in. He wrapped it up carefully and neatly, and once he was satisfied he walked off into the kitchen to get me a bag of ice. When he returned I surprised him by pulling him into a hug and then placing a kiss on his cheek.

"What was that for?" He asked. I smiled.

"Because you guys are the best," I said as I hugged and kissed John's cheek next.

"We know," George said as I walked up to him to do what I had done with Paul and John. Ringo smiled at me, and I got little butterflies as I walked up to him. My hug with him the tightest of all four. I wanted him to know that I really appreciated everything he had done for me that day. I also made this kiss on his cheek last longer than necessary. But his cheeks were really soft and it was a nice feeling.

"Well," John said as he pulled Ringo and I apart so he could walk through, "when you're done making out with Ringo's cheek, we can make some lunch and get you settled in. I'd like to wait until all the gatebirds are gone before we move in your luggage."

I nodded, agreeing. I didn't want anyone to know I was living with the Beatles quite yet. Although I knew when people found out, things would get interesting.

Okay, sorry about the crappy end of this chapter, I just REALLY needed to end it finally. This is the longest chapter I've written, and because of that it's taken me forever to update. Thanks everyone who reviewed and favorited/alerted this story! It means a lot! So let me know what you guys thought about this chapter in a review! Go! NOW!