Eleanor's eyes slowly opened as she pushed herself up from the bed. Once she was up, she took in her surroundings. Unfamiliar bed. Unfamiliar dressers and drawers. Unfamiliar everything. She looked down. She was completely naked.
Confused, she wrapped herself up in the sheets and stood up. She gathered her dress and her shoes and made her way to the bathroom. She felt too incredibly disgusting to not take a shower.
How could she let herself do this? Her slut days were long gone, so what could possibly tempt her to sleep with a random guy? Not to mention that this guy seemed quite shady, even in her drunken haze. Not as if she hadn't slept with her fair share of shady guys, but he seemed different than the others. Like he was a nice guy caught in a suspicious act. And that worried her more than it should have.
Eleanor placed her clothes on the porcelain counter and started to draw her bath.
Who was this man, anyway? What if he turned out to be really great, and they actually took this further? Or maybe he was brutal and cruel, and would keep her here forever for sex and money. The latter was improbable, but nonetheless a possibility.
After her quick, ten minute bath, she wrapped her hair and changed into her clothes. She breathed deeply. Time to see who the man was she slept with.
Cracking open the door, Eleanor saw 4 men sitting around the table, eating eggs and bacon. What is this, the mafia?
Slowly, Eleanor made her first steps into the dining area, which was right next to the room she slept in last night. The four men turned and stared at her. Eleanor stopped in front of them.
"Alright... who was the one I slept with last night?"
One of the men with chestnut brown hair and brown eyes pointed at the man next to him, who had big blue eyes and a large nose. "Ringo was the one you did the dirty with." The man, apparently Ringo, waved and smiled at Eleanor. Hesitantly, Eleanor waved back.
One of the other men, who had dark brown hair and long eyelashes, leaned over to the man next to him. "I'm surprised she hasn't started screaming yet."
"What on Earth are you going on about?" Eleanor asked the man, quite obviously confused. "Why would I be screaming?"
The man laughed. "Don't you know who we are, dear?" Eleanor shook her head. "You're faces look vaguely familiar, but I don't know."
"My dear, sweet, innocent girl, we're The Beatles, and we're bigger than Jesus," the man who pointed Ringo out stated. They all chuckled a bit, but Eleanor had no idea what could possibly be funny about that.
"Ahh, yes. So you four lads are The Beatles? Just wait until Lucy hears about this. She'll be out of her mind jealous," Eleanor said, smiling at the thought of Lucy being jealous.
Ringo stood up. "Since ye don't seem to know who we are, I'll introduce us. That's John, George, Paul, and I'm Ringo. Pleased to meet you, Miss, um...," he stopped, waiting for her to say her name. She extended a hand. "Eleanor."
"Nice to meet ye, Eleanor," George chimed in for the first time since she walked in. She smiled, still hesitant about the situation.
"How about ye stay for a while? Maybe until lunch or something. Ye seem very nice," Paul offered. Eleanor contemplated this for a moment, but ended up denying the offer. She just had to get back home to Lucy. Poor girl was probably off her rocker worried about her.
The boys all said farewell to Eleanor on her way out. Out of common courtesy, Ringo had decided to drive her home. Eleanor was glad, too, because she honestly had no idea how to get home. And the directions they were giving her weren't the best.
Th weather today was strange, for you could actually see the sun. But it was as cold as it would usually be.
Once they were in the car, Ringo finally actually the question he had been wondering all morning: "So ye really didn't know who we were?"
Eleanor shook her head. "Not in the slightest." Ringo laughed. He was used to people not knowing who he was, but the other's were a different story. Everyone knew and loved them.
"But, you have heard our music, right?" he asked.
Eleanor nodded. "My roommate, Lucy, has an obsession with you lot. Says your music is a God-given gift."
"Do you agree with her?"
"Somewhat," she replied. Ringo smiled. He loved compliments, even if they were small.
"So, who's this roommate of your's favorite Beatle?" Ringo asked, wishing to keep the conversation alive. Eleanor thought for a second. "If I remember correctly, it's that Paul fellow. It might be George, though. I get you all so very confused."
Ringo smiled, looking over to Eleanor, studying her features.
"Wot?" Eleanor asked. Ringo chuckled. "You say what funny."
"I do not!" Eleanor denied, defensively. Her accent was a soft spot of hers. She didn't very well appreciate it when people pointed out the way she said words, either.
"Ok, luv. No need to get worked up."
Eleanor rolled her eyes. She gazed out the window to see her apartment building, the first familiar sight all day. The car slowly rolled to a stop, and Eleanor made her way out of it. She smiled and thanked Ringo for the ride.
"I hope we meet again, Miss Eleanor," Ringo said, smiling.
"So do I, Ringo."
"Where have you been?" Lucy demanded, stomping her foot down with each word for emphasis.
"I met a guy at the club last night and I slept with him," Eleanor replied simply, throwing her purse down on the couch and sitting next to it. In a swift motion, she threw off her shoes and put her feet on the glass coffee table.
"Disgusting, Ellie. Absolutely disgusting," Lucy spat. "You know how I feel about nasty club men. And I was under the impression you felt the same way."
"I do," Eleanor agreed, "but this man wasn't just any man. He was Ringo Starr of The Beatles." Lucy's jaw dropped. "Not that I even recognized him. Last night I was too drunk to even tell my arse from a hole in the ground."
"Y-you, a-nd Ring-go?" Lucy stuttered. "What a coincident, because last night I met Paul McCartney! Gave him my number and everything."
"Well, top this: I met all four of The Beatles this morning, and they offered to let me stay for lunch, but I declined," Eleanor stated proudly, even if she wasn't that proud of it. They probably only did that to try and get in her pants again.
"You declined? Are you stupid?" Lucy asked, flabbergasted that a girl with a seemingly sane mind would ever decline lunch with The Beatles. But this was Eleanor after all, and she wasn't quite as big as a fangirl as Lucy. But still, that's no excuse.
"I didn't want to overstay my welcome."
"Yeah, but we're talking about The Beatles here, not some regular ol' Joes!" Lucy continued her rant, her face turning a faint shade of pink. She tended to get a little too overworked about these sort of things.
"I doesn't matter anymore. The deed is do-," Eleanor was interrupted by the bleeting ring of the telephone. Lucy ran over to it, having every hope in the world that it'd be Paul.
"Hullo?" Lucy answered. The line was silent for a moment.
"Hullo," a Liverpudlian accent replied. It took everything Lucy had for her to not scream. She allowed a giggle to escape her lips. "Hullo, Paul. Nice of you to call," she finally said.
There was an audible chuckle from the phone. "So, how are ye on this fine morning?"
"Fantastic. I'm just around here in the apartment of mine, with my roommate Eleanor. I believe you met her early today, actually."
"Ah, yes, Eleanor. Fine girl she is. Tell her I said hullo," Paul said. There was a whisper, then a clearing of the throat.
"What would you say if I ask ye to dinner later on tonight?" Paul asked. Lucy giggled. "I would agree."
"So, would ye like to come to dinner with me tonight?"
"Of course I would."
"Then it's a date. I'll pick ye up around 7, ok?"
"O-ok," Lucy agreed, hanging up the phone.
Her dream was coming true. She was about to have dinner with a Beatle.
That night, after Lucy left, Eleanor made herself some tea and sat down on the couch. All of a sudden she felt a pang of loneliness. She was usually never alone. Lucy was always there.
She sighed. This feeling was a recurring one. Every so often, Lucy would be out of the house, socializing and doing whatever she does, and Eleanor would be home. And the she'd realize how alone she really was, not only physically, but mentally.
Sitting her tea down on the coffee table, she rummaged through the many pages of phone numbers that were in a neat stack next to the phone. She knew for a fact that Lucy had written down the number Paul called off of.
Finally finding it, she the dialed the number.
"Hullo? Is this Ringo or George or John or whoever the fuck lives there?"
"I do believe I'm George, but I'll have to check," presumably George said, "John, is my name Ringo or George or John, or is it Whoever The Fuck Lives Here?"
A faint voice answered George.
"Alright this is George. Are ye Eleanor?"
"Yes, George. And I just called because I would like to take you all to the nearest bar so we can get incredibly drunk."
"Sounds splendid."
And the second chapter is done! I hope you liked it. And fair warning, the next update might be late, so savor this quick update. It's very unusual for me, which you probably know.
-Mo