A.N. I'm so sorry. It's been so long, I've really missed you guys, we had some trouble with computers and laziness and all that good stuff. But none the less here is the chapter shining and new, freshly uploaded from my hard drive. I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 4

Prim

I'd often been to this bar on Fridays and Saturdays and it was always packed, but right now I was stood here alone (save for the band who were tuning up in the corner). We'd hired the place out for Summer's twenty-first and the guest weren't due to arrive for another 35 minutes. I walked around the room glancing over everything and checking that it was all ship-shape (so to speak). The bar looked odd with all the lights up: the wooden flooring too polished and reflective; the red cushions on the chair too vivid.

I started to shake. I had organized this whole thing. What if no-one turned up? what if Summer hated it? What if the sky fell in?

I caught a glimpse of myself in one of the mirrors hung near the bar. My chocolate brown hair was teased into a bee hive hair-do and my eyes were rimmed with thick black eyeliner and coat upon coat of mascara. I wore a royal blue shift dress (which was uncomfortably short) and black heels (which were uncomfortably tall). The overall effect was that I looked very stylish and very pale and nothing like myself. I tugged on the dress a little, hoping it might grow by a couple inches. No such luck.

I glanced impatiently at the clock, it was now a quarter to 8. Summer should have been here by now. The plan was for her and George to turn up a few minute before everyone else so that he could be here when people started to arrive. Summer wasn't rightly supposed to know that we were planning party for her but she figured it out when a massive crate of wine was delivered to our flat last Monday.

Right on cue I heard the door swing open and shut along with the sound of two people talking followed with Summer's distinctive I-don't-think-that-joke-was-funny-but-i-fancy-you-so-I'll-laugh-anyway laugh.

"Hey guys," I said walking through the main room with the door that opened onto the street. "Happy birthday, summer!" I yelled a bit too loudly "I would've got you a proper present, but this place cost a bloody fortune to hire out!"

"It's the best place for miles around, so I forgive you."

"Oh, thank goodness for that."I said, my voice dripping in sarcasm. "Don't think I could've slept without getting your forgiveness, your majesty."

"Drop the sarcasm, Prim. It doesn't suit you" She laughed.

"Thanks," I mumbled. "Anyway, people will be turning up in 10 minutes or so, so if there's anything you need sorted out you'll need to do it now."

"Oh, how organized of you Primmy." She said running off round the bar to adjust the position of the chairs and wine glasses and tell the band that they are under no circumstances to play anything by Frank Sinatra or they wont get paid.

….

An hour later, everyone had arrived and the party was in full swing. The room was packed with famous and/or interesting and/or beautiful people. But there was really only one person I wanted to talk to. I peered over the tops of peoples heads and couldn't see him anywhere in the throngs of party-goers.

Ugh, I thought to myself. You fancy that guy way too much, Prim.

I eventually went up onto the terrace where I found him, Ringo and Paul stood talking amongst themselves while a group of girls stood close by them talking very loudly and trying to attract their attention.

"Hi boys," I said as I approached them.

"Hi, Prim," John said "You know I almost didn't recognize you there. You've done something different with your hair?"

"Hmm, yeah," I said blinking in the declining light, "I'll take that as a compliment!"

He nodded in reply, "You should."

I smiled up at him in the pause that followed. The sound of the band from downstairs carried through the ceiling and I swayed to the beat slightly.

"What do you think of the band?" I asked as they started playing yet another song.

"We're better" chirped Paul, "you shoulda had us play."

"You see, I would have but I cant afford you," I laughed.

"Of course you cant," said John smirking,

"Besides, its our day off."

"Our only day off, as well mind," confirmed Ringo, nodding before being dragged off to dance with some girl I recognized as one of Summer's many immature friends.

I turned back to John "Can I get you a drink? We have wine, wine and more wine."

"Are you trying to get m-"

"Yes, please love" interrupted Paul who I had forgotten was standing right next to me.

"Right," I said feeling quite perplexed,

"Be back in a mo-"

I hurried off to find a bottle of wine (which wasn't very hard) and clean glasses (more challenging). Eventually I completed my quest and found myself clutching the glasses filled with deep red liquid and weaving around various members of The Rolling Stones (they seemed to get everywhere and there were only 5 of them) as I made my way back to where John and Paul were stood.

"Ta, love" said Paul with a wink.

"You're welcome," I said despite the fact that Paul had already started wandering off with some girl, firing the ever cheesy "Don't I recognize you? Are you famous or something?" line at her, causing her to blush and giggle and suck up to him sickeningly.

"You know, this is really terrible wine," John said , interrupting my thoughts and taking another swig of his glass.

"Well, excuse me if we cant all be millionaire-wine-connoisseur-rock-stars," I laughed as John took another glug from his glass, nearly finishing it off. "Doesn't stop you drinking it like it's going out of fashion, though."

"It is" he replied, "Anyway, the drunker you get, the better it tastes"

"How classy" I said taking a sip as he finished his glass. From below our feet the band started to play Wah Watusi by The Orlons.

"Do you wanna dance? I love this song!" John started to flail his arms around, he truly was a terrible dancer. Not that I was much better though.

Baby, baby when you do the fly your arms are wasted waving in the sky.

I hummed along with the band as I danced along to the beat. As we danced, John grabbed me round the waist, pulling me towards him.

C'mon and hold me like a lover should,

John tipped my head up and kissed me as we swayed slightly to the music. I could feel John tapping 2 of his fingers along with the beat on my back. 1-2-3-4-1-2-3-4. I noticed that my heart was beating in double time.

Watusi makes you feel so good.

Wah, wah watusi,

C'mon and take a chance and get with this dance.

_
Summer

We reached the corner of the block and waited for a taxi to pass. George was wearing a black silk top hat. I looked at him for a moment and laughed. The party was still on, but we had decided to go off and do our own thing. We were tired of parties anyway.

"Oh, I'm sure no one's going to recognize you in that." I took a bite out of my red vine and waved it around his face with amused eyes.

"It's all I could find." He laughed and grabbed the red vine, taking a bite out of it. I grabbed his top hat and played with it on my head. Rain began to fall in heavy drops. He took a newspaper from the free stand and held it over his head, dancing comically. I doffed the hat to him and he held out his hand for me. Dancing in the rain. However cliché it was, didn't really matter. It was the most fun I'd had after hours. He danced with one arm holding the paper over his head, making funny faces. He threw the paper back on the stand, and lightly brushed his eyebrows with his fingers.

"Taxi!"

We crawled into the back of the taxi as George uttered my address to the driver. I quietly played with the fabric of the hat and placed it back on his head as soon as he sat back.

"I think the hat makes you look oh so handsome, Harrison."

"Yeah, you didn't look so bad in it either y'know" He played it cool and then turned back to me with a laugh.

"You're that Beatle guy, aren't you?" The driver looked into the mirror.

"Yes, sir." George answered with a hint of a small sigh.

"My daughters love you. Emily loves you and Sara, she loves that guy.. the one with the big nose."

"Ringo! " I took the hat off of George again and sunk back into my seat, playing around with it as George autographed a leftover napkin.

A stop and we were finally in front of the flat. Outside was nearly pitch dark, there were hardly any street lights around here. George grabbed my hand as we walked across the street. I was thankful that he couldn't see how much my cheeks were on fire. I found it funny how he was leading me to my own apartment. I opened the front door and giggled at a joke George had made. My hand trailed up and down the wall searching for the light switch. George walked in and the light turned on. Apparently the light switch had moved onto the other wall. We both laughed. Anyone would have thought we were drunk. We slowly and quietly walked up the stairs. I opened the door again and threw myself on the couch. George closed the door and smiled.

"Honey, I'm home!" I giggled a little as he loosened his tie and poked his head in the kitchen. He walked back over to the couch and smiled.

"I was thinking the other day about this place. It's nice ya'know." He turned around and began walking around the house.

"So what exactly do you do for a living?"

"I'm a photojournalist. But I mostly work photographing musicians. I have an office in the city. Nothing really all that official" He nodded his head, still peeking into some of the rooms as I talked from leaning on the kitchen counter.

He opened the door to my bedroom and turned his head.

"This one's yours, right?"We both walked into the bedroom. I turned on the small lamp as George leaned on my dresser playing with all the little things.

"You think they even noticed that we're gone?" He flashed a crooked smile and shrugged his shoulders.

"They're all too absorbed in themselves," He answered matter-of-factly, raising his eyebrows slightly. Who the hell made him so cute? I walked over to the records and flipped through them looking for one to play.

"So are you a fan of us?" I turned to him and caught a glimpse of him flashing a cheeky smile, before turning back to the records.

"Um, love love me do?" I sang the words, trying to hear the song in my head and make sure it was one that they actually sang.

"That's us – by your tone I take it you're not a fan?"

"Well, I mean, I like real rock and roll." I scrunched my face and mentally slapped myself for saying it like that. George hit his chest with his fist and joked with a mockingly hurt face.

"No, I mean, you guys are real big out here, but I don't listen to the radio. I mean, what I do is I stick to my records – the ones I already have. Its just – its not like our car radio actually works, so I just listen to the songs I like at home." I stopped and laughed a little. "Pay no attention to me. Go, if you'd like. I'm just a rambling idiot. Who never learnt when to shut up –"

"And who never listens to the radio." I laughed and gave up on choosing the music to play.

"So where did you come from? I mean, you're not really English."

"Nope, not at all. I'm from south Carolina actually."

"Really, you don't sound it." I sighed and laid back on the bed.

"I moved around a lot. I never really lived in one place since I was about.. maybe 16?" I felt like a forty year old telling her childhood stories when really, it wasn't that long ago.

I could feel my eyes wanting to close on their own and I began to yawn.

"A story for another time. What about you? You're obviously very English."

He laughed and laid beside me. "Life is way too long to explain right now too. A lot of touring and stuff. You do what they tell you to do."

"I've heard. Is it really as hard as they say? Touring and all that?" he scoffed and turned to me.

"If you value your sleep – then very hard!"

"Can't be that bad then. But then I guess there's other stuff to miss?"

"Yeah. Well, home made food. We eat all the fancy stuff now. Its good- just not right though. But I don't have as much to miss as the other guys, ya'know? They all have their girlfriends and wives and that."

"Wives?" I had never pictured any of the boys being married. I knew how rock stars lived.

"Well, wife really- it's only John that's married. Got a kid too." I was in complete shock. A wife? A kid? John? Ha.

"I would have never thought. Wow. A kid? He's quite the flirt."

"That's John. He's got a thing for Prim, ya'know?"

I scoffed, "Yeah, I know. And his wife, she doesn't care?" he shrugged his shoulders and closed his eyes for a moment.

"I guess..." George trailed off and finished with a shrug of his shoulders.

Prim

Several hours and bottles of wine later John and I arrived back at my building. I fumbled with my keys, trying 3 different ones before finding the right one and unlocking the front door to the building. I tripped slightly as we entered the foyer and he laughed loudly at me.

"Shh," I hushed him in a stage whisper, "We'll wake everyone up,"

"I didn't say anything,"

"You just did,"

"Did not,"

"Shh,"

The stairs, of course, were a challenge. They were stubbornly steep and tall at the best of times, but when you had consumed a few more alcoholic beverages than could be considered sane, they were damn-near impossible to negotiate. John started on them first, going up 2 steps at a time and dragging me by the hand. My shoes were proving to have been a stupid choice, I tripped several times whilst climbing the stairs that night, making a hollow bang each time my knees crashed into the steps.

Eventually we reached the top of the stairs and I fumbled with my keys (third time lucky again). We stumbled into the flat bumping into each other as John and I both tried to get through the doorway at the same time. John pulled me into the hallway: I giggled loudly at how serial the situation seemed. The door slammed behind us, the sound reverberating through the walls as I tripped in my heels towards my bedroom. When we entered the room I slipped off my stupid shoes and shrank by about 5 inches. I then ran over the carpet to turn on the radio, a girl band was playing, filling the room with shoo wops. I stood listening for a few second, feeling mildly disorientated, before I felt John's arms wrap around my waist and his lips pressing on mine. We fell back on the bed and he pulled my dress over my head as I began unbuttoning his shirt.

And I shan't bore you with the details, but they didn't call it "Swinging London" for nothing.

A.N. Don't forget, the review button is your friend!