Oh, my gosh! Who am I anymore? I don't even know who this strange person is…seriously! I don't even remember when the last time I updated was, and that's SO sad. At least it hasn't even been close to a month but STILL! I feel so bad! But enough of my thoughts, I have some news for you concerning this chapter. Remember how at the end of this I asked whether I should have a Paul/drama chapter or a Ringo/Chuck chapter first? Okay, well, I saw what you guys said and decided…RINGO! Hehe, but anyone who knows me knows how much I LOOOOOOVE Paul, so he'll be next for sure. Okay, without any more of my annoying babble, here's chapter eleven!

"Hello?"

"Yeah, um…hi."

"Hi…who is this?"

"Chuck."

"Oh, hi Chuck!"

"Yeah, hi. Wait-this is A.J., right?"

"Last time I checked."

"Ha, okay good. So listen, I know it's been a little while since our date and all…."

"A little while? Try a few weeks!"

"Right…yeah, okay. Sorry. But I'm calling you now."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"So you're asking me out?"

"Yup, how bout tonight?"

"Sure. But you're still picking me up."

"Oh…okay, yeah, I guess I can arrange that."

"Good. Then I'll see you at…?"

"7 o'clock?"

"Sure, sounds good. I'll see you then."

"Bye, A.J."

"Bye, Chuck."

I hung up the phone, then turned around to see a rather annoyed looking George across the room from me, his arms folded. "So who was that?" he asked coyly, though he had been in the room the entire time.

"God," I replied, then edged my way around him and out of the living room. I strode into my 'room', which was actually a little piece of the living room with a curtain sectioning it off. I slammed the thin blanket that hung as my wall shut in his face, then turned around and laid down on my small bed.

"Anna Jean Rose! I was talking to you!" I could tell that his face was pressed up against my wall, but I didn't even spare his shadow a second glance. I picked up the nail file lying next to my bed and began filing away in a classic teenage girl move. Hell if I cared, though.

"Bitch please. You're still talking to me, unfortunately." I leaned back into my array of pillows, all of which Paul and I had bought the last time we were drunk at home and had nothing to do. Because of the state we were in when we bought them, they ranged from bright green with dark blue polka dots to deep tan with orange giraffes. The giraffes one was Paulie's favorite.

"C'mon A.J.! I need to talk to you about this! I mean, don't you remember last time?" Last time…last time…. Nope, doesn't ring a bell. Because seriously, first impressions are bullshit (sometimes) and maybe Chuck was just having an off day or something. He sounded normal on the phone, anyways.

"That's just too bad, Georgie Boy. I'm not having this conversation, sorry."

"Let me in A.J.!" George whined. It didn't seem to make a difference to him that my 'door' was nothing more than an old light blue baby blanket that the boys had lying around. I had only had my room for about a week (and that was only because Ringo got tired of alternating who got to use his bed because sometimes he 'needed' it and then I got all disgusted and it was this huge ordeal) but that was enough time to enforce the 'No Beatles Allowed' rule. Yeah, if you told me that I would have to put up THAT particular rule for my room just a couple months ago, I would have laughed in your face. But that was what I got for actually getting to know them as people. Apparently.

Just then, the front door opened, and I could tell right away that it was John just by the sound of his footsteps. "John," George moaned immediately, "tell A.J. to let me in."

I heard him snort. "Why would you want to go in there? She is in there."

"Oh, I love you, too, John!" I called, sarcasm dripping from my words.

His footsteps trailed away into the kitchen, and like the little boy that he was, George went after him. I felt a momentary flash of panic, seeing as George was probably going to tell John about my date witch Chuck, and Paul was currently in the kitchen, too. Paul wouldn't be too happy….

But nobody further came to my room, I got ready for my date, exiting the bathroom a few minutes before seven. When I emerged into the living room to grab my purse from my bed, I found John, Paul, and George all sitting side by side on the couch, waiting for me.

"Um, hey guys," I said uncertainly, reaching past my walls and grabbing my bright red purse (which clashed beautifully with my black leather jacket). "Where's Ringo?"

They shrugged in unison, eyes watching me. "Okay. This is started to freak me out."

John rolled his eyes, but Paul answered. "I heard about your little date."

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. "Oh, please. Is that what this is about?"

George nodded. "We don't want you to get hurt again."

"We?" I asked, my eyes on John. We still had a love/hate relationship. Love/hate as in I loved to hate him.

"We." John confirmed, not quite meeting my eyes. Aw! He didn't completely hate me!

"Now you realize that Chuck is not a good guy, right?" That was Paul.

I scoffed at him. "Because of one night? No, I don't think one night makes a person bad."

Paul laughed darkly, shaking his head. "You're not the only girl he's ever been out with, A. There've been others, and almost everyone has ended bad."

"Bad?"

"Bad."

I still had no idea what he was talking about. Bad? Chuck just seemed like he was still a little bit immature, not all that bad. We all sat there, staring at each other. Bad? Really?

"So…" John began, trying to break the silence. "Is he picking you up."

"Yes!" I said, clinging to the subject change. "In a car!"

"Well, that's how they usually do it," George smirked.

"Yeah, well, what time will you be home, then? In that car that you'll be riding in, I mean." Paul watched me carefully. "Because if the need arises you know that we can go pick you up."

"In what?" John inquired, turning to look at him with his eyebrows raised. "Certainly you're not implying that I will volunteer MY car."

Paul ignored him, pressing on. "Because if you want to stay out tonight, just know that you have to be back a little bit early tomorrow. We have a recording session and I wanted to work a little bit on the song afterword-"

George nudged him. "Hey, Paul, stop being such a killjoy. You're acting like your mother!"

"Hey, A, you reckon you're gonna be gone ALL night?" John asked, leaning in. "'Cause that Chuck, he's a frisky one."

"Whoa!" I exclaimed, jumping up. That was something that you did NOT want to hear from your grandfather. Luckily at that just moment a car horn sounded outside and I made a break towards the door.

"Bye guys!" I yelled as I sprinted the hell out of there.

"Be safe!" John called from the doorways, snickering like crazy.

Seven beers for Chuck, one and a half for me, thirteen bad jokes, and two rejected make-outs from Chuck later, and I was realizing that this really was a bad idea. And that Chuck was a bad guy. Pretty much.

"Hey, Anna, why don't we get outta here," he slurred at me, his hands roaming down to my legs. I slapped them away.

"It's A.J." I scooted my chair farther away from him, but he only leaned a little bit closer to me, filling in the distance. He finished yet another beer. Bring that total up to eight. "And I wouldn't go back to your place if it were raining acid and it was the last shelter available."

"Huh?" He was stupid, too. Why was I even here?

"Listen, I'm gonna go…." I stood up to leave, but it didn't seem like he liked that too much. He stood up, too.

"But we just got here." He took a step closer to me, cornering me between the bar and the wall. "You can't leave yet…"

My heart started beating a little bit faster. "Please let me go, Chuck." I tried to push past him, but he caught my arm and twisted me around to face him. If the bar hadn't been so damn crowded, and if we hadn't chosen seats in the corner, and maybe even if Chuck hadn't been so damn big, somebody would've rescued me by now. But those were just what ifs.

"I don't think so." He pushed me against the wall, then took a step closer, pressing his sweaty body against mine. "I don't think so."

I tried to scream, but it was muffled by his muscular chest. My arms reached around him, struggling, but he took it the wrong way. He leaned in, smashing his lips against mine. I suppose you could call it kissing, but it wasn't the any kiss I ever wanted to remember. It hurt.

Pushing his mouth off mine, I leaned my head around his body and called out in my loudest screech. "HELP!"

His hands began to snake up around my waist, pushing away my leather coat. His body was crushing my lungs and suddenly I couldn't breathe. If someone didn't help me soon I was surely going to suffocate. Why didn't anybody see me? From the bartender's position it probably looked like we were making out….

And then I could breathe again, and his body was thrown off of me. I could barely see around the bulky mass of Chuck, but from the sudden halt in the noise level in the club, I could tell that someone was going to save me.

I saw him, winding up, his skinny arm barely larger than mine. He was nearly a foot smaller than Chuck, and he must have weighed a hundred pounds less. Yet when his fist made contact with the drunk Chuck, the big guy's head made a full, theatrical turn. And then he fell, leaving me face to face with Ringo. Ringo Starr. My savior, my hero.

And taking one look into his eyes right then, I could tell that was a moment I would remember forever. That was the moment when it all changed.

AHHHH! YAY! I'm finally here! I've had this scene in my head for SOO long and I wanted it in ink so bad you don't even know. I know that it was shorter than usual, but who cares? I can't wait to see what you guys say! Ah! I can't even talk right now, because I just wrote this whole thing in one sitting and my eyes are BURNING from staring at this screen. SO! I will talk to you in the next update, or you can join the forum by Dani Dragon and talk about all things Beatles there! Thanks so much guys, and REVIEW!