I need to take a deep, calming breath. Wanna know why? BECAUSE I'M SO FREAKING EXCITED FOR THIS CHAPTER! I've been waiting to write this and have you guys read it for, like, MONTHS! Or whenever I started the damned thing. I don't even remember. Isn't that sad? ANYWAYS! While I am very excited to be putting this up, I am ALSO very depressed about having to write the next one. I don't wanna say too much here because, you know, you're gonna read it and all, but…I don't know. I will say one thing. I LOVE to write love stories. It's my thing. I might say, if I was living in the sixties or seventies, that it's my bag. Scandalous, right? But the thing is, I like to write REAL love stories. And real love stories, we all know, aren't always perfect. Most of them aren't, actually. Because love is about realizations and overcoming things and all that Romeo and Juliet crap. SO! Now that I've thoroughly bored you with my rantings, here is the ever-awaited (by me) chapter fifteen!

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

George looked up sleepily as Paul and I paraded into his room, throwing our arms up and cheering. He rolled over, mumbling a quick, "Get out."

"Oh, don't be that way, Georgie! You're only nineteen once!" Paul plopped himself down next to his half-asleep friend.

"Actually," John corrected, striding into the room mock-arrogantly, "he'll be nineteen for three hundred and sixty five days."

"Oh, look!" I fake-squealed right back. "John can count! Wow, he's so witty AND funny AND cute!"

John narrowed his eyes. "Yes, I am, A.J. Thanks for noticing."

I opened my mouth to retort, but George finally sat up in bed. "Really guys? On my fucking birthday?"

John looked over at him, as though debating if George's happiness overpowered my unhappiness. Finally, he sighed, returning to glaring at me. "Fine. But I still won this one."

I smirked. "Yeah? Does George fight ALL your fights for you?"

John's face twitched, and for a second I thought he was going to reach over and punch me. That wiped the smile clean off my face. But before any more words could be exchanged, Paul cut in.

"ANYWAYS! To celebrate the fact that Georgie Boy here is one year older, tonight drinks are on Ringo!"

Ringo. The name hit me with more force than it should have. Seriously, it was having staggering effects to my heart. I thought it was literally going to beat of my chest. But they were making fun of him! How dare they! Ringo was the sweetest, nicest, cutest boy on the planet Earth. He deserved to be defended.

"Oh, come on! Why's it always Ringo?"

They were all chuckling at Paul's comment, but now they were staring straight at me. No one said anything for a second, and then, "Not everybody is as in love with the lad as you are."

I must have been redder than a cherry at that very second. How could they even THINK I was in love with him? I was NOT under any circumstances having any feelings for him other than that MINOR crush I used to have. I mean, I still have. But it's not even that big of a deal. It's just because of the way he saved me and all. It's probably going to fizzle out any SECOND now. And okay, ever since the Chuck incident it's only gotten a little bit stronger. But all things that go up must come down…right?

I turned and stared at John. He was the one that had said it. A million different thoughts were rushing through my mind, and I could tell he was smugly waiting for my bitchy answer.

Except, I couldn't give him what he wanted. Because seriously? All of those wild and crazy thoughts that were just in my mind a second ago had vanished, and the only one that remained was Ringo's face when John told him the truth. Because that undoubtedly was going to happen. I mean, I'm not stupid; it's John.

"Don't tell him," I practically begged. And my face must have been pretty damn serious, because he didn't smile or laugh at me. He simply crossed his arms and cocked his head. Paul and George looked on with wary expressions. This was going to be bad.

"What's in it for me?"

"Seriously, John? Seriously? Paul and George would do it for me, simply because I asked them not to say anything! Now why is that so hard?" I was regaining my composure slowly. All I needed now was for Ringo himself to walk into the room. NOT!

"Because I don't like you and you don't like me. Now what's in it for me?" He continued to stare at me hardly, but when he said the part of us not liking each other, I couldn't help but glance over at George. He gave me a sympathetic half smile.

I sighed. "Whatever you want." Under normal circumstances, I would have NEVER given in. But these we by no means normal circumstances. This was life and death. It would ruin EVERYTHING if Ringo knew how I felt about him. Which wasn't any huge thing, by the way. I mean, sure, he was cute and funny, and he constantly put up with John's crap and he ALWAYS had a smile on his face. Oh, and could make me laugh without hardly even trying. And he stood up for me. Ha, and then he does that cute little bob thing with his head whenever he's playing the drums. Yeah…

Whoa! SNAP OUT OF IT! There were more important issues at hand at the moment.

"Fine. But it has to be WHATEVER I want." He smiled that signature Lennon smile. DAMN THAT SMILE!

"Whatever," I promised. If I was talking to George, I would have stuck out my pinky. If I was with Paul, I would have squealed and hugged him. But I was with John. Which meant that I could do nothing but nervously await my chore.

"I'll think about it," he informed me. This led me to believe that it was going to be REALLY bad, whatever it was. And that made me scared.

He wandered out of George's room, completely involved in his own devious thoughts. I turned around to face the other two. "Oh, shit!"

George nodded, patting my head like a dog as he walked out of the room. "I feel sorry for you!" he called over his shoulder. Seconds later we heard the shower burst to life.

I looked at Paul, completely hopeless. "He's gonna tell no matter WHAT I do!"

Paul bit his lip. "There's a simple solution."

"Which is?"

"Tell Ringo before John does."

I gave him my best 'Boy, you crazy!' look. "Are you kidding me? The whole point of this is so that Ringo DOESN'T find out!"

"So you're never gonna tell him?"

"No, John is."

"But even if John didn't know. You would have told him eventually," Paul reasoned. I gave him another look. He had OBVIOUSLY never had a crush before. Stupid Paul. All the girls just flocked to him.

"That wasn't exactly the plan."

"Well, what WAS the plan?"

"The plan was to just keep that all inside and buried deep, so nobody knew at ALL."

Paul looked down at his hands, then back up at me with an impish smile. "That was a really horrible plan."

Sitting down next to him, I smacked his arm. "Shut up," I ordered.

"Yes ma'am."

I rolled my eyes. "Ringo can NEVER find out. That would completely ruin our friendship." When the FUCK did everything get so complicated? That is what I would like to know.

"So you never want to take things further?" Paul asked, his brow furrowed. "I thought you liked him…?"

"I DO. I like him so much I never want to put him in that situation." Did that make sense? I think so. To ME it made sense. To someone like Paul it was probably the stupidest thing he had ever heard.

"I know what'll make you forget ALL about that!" Paul suddenly exclaimed, bouncing on the bed with this new excitement.

"What?" I wanted to know, honestly curious for this newfound cure for confusion.

"Well, I meant what I said. We're going out for drinks tonight for George's birthday."

"Okay…"

"Why don't you come?"

I frowned, kind of offended. "I already thought I was invited…" When they went out, they usually took me with them. Coming back was a whole different story, however, as I ALWAYS came back home, and most of the time I was without any Beatles (if you catch my drift).

"Of course. But I think you should participate in ALL festivities." He waggled his eyebrows, making me laugh again.

"I think NOT, my friend."

"Oh, c'mon! You can't hang with the Beatles and ruin our spotless reputation without swiping the V-card!" EW! Hearing THOSE words come out of HIS mouth made me wanna puke. But I didn't. Instead I pressed my palms flat over my ears, humming loudly and blocking him out.

"LALALALALALA!" I started to sing when I could hear his chants of 'A.J. is a virgin' over the humming.

Just then, the door swung open, revealing George, who was mid-drop with his towel. It was as though everything happened in slow motion. My hands came off my ears and landed on my lap with a slap, and Paul's mouth remained open, though no sound was coming out. I swear, you could hear a PIN drop. But that wasn't what dropped. What dropped was George's towel. And me and Paul? We saw EVERYTHING.

"AHHHHHHHHHH!" I screeched, pushing past a blushing George who was STILL naked and STILL in the doorway. "OH, MY FUCKING GOD!"

Paul was right behind me, yelling, "MY EYES, MY EYES!"

We collapsed in a heap on the couch, me trying to get that mental image OUT of my head, and Paul practically hyperventilating. George bustled into the living room (WITH his towel on, thank God) seconds later. "Oh, sod off before John comes in."

Neither of us looked at him, both turning to look at each other. "It was…so…WHITE!" I gasped, my throat beginning to burn from screaming. Then we both started giggling, because really? That would be probably be funny for anyone ELSE to see.

Once we started, we could NOT stopped. Paul fell off the couch, holding his abs, tears streaming down his face. I was laughing at the sight of him, and I thought I would never be able to breathe normally again.

George huffed, turning around and heading back to his bedroom. "Happy birthday, George…" he muttered to himself.

Oh, GOD were they drunk.

"…an-and then, George dropped 'is towel, because he didn't know we were there and all, and we both…we SCREAMED. It was so funny. 'n't that right, A.J.?"

Paul tried to focus on me, but he was swaying dangerously. He reached forward, trying to give me a playful punch, but ended up losing his balance and doing a nosedive to the floor. He looked up at us all, still chuckling mercilessly. "Ouch," he said. This sent him into another round of hysterics.

Me? Sure, I drank, but NOTHING like the boys did. My body simply couldn't tolerate that much alcohol. That's not to say that I couldn't hold my liquor, but let's just say that I knew when enough was enough.

Paul didn't seem to have that ability.

While some random girls cooed and helped Paul up, I looked at George. "Havin' a happy birthday?"

He turned his head slowly to look at me. Here's the thing: when John gets drunk, he's VIOLENT, when Paul is, he's silly, and when Ringo is a bit sozzled, he's SUPER funny. But George? Well, normally he's pretty quiet and shy, but when he's drunk he just says the first thing that pops into mind.

"Birthdays are NOT happy. They're about getting OLDER! I don't want to get older!" He laughed madly. "But if I do, one day I'll be as old as John! Let's see him boss me around when I'm older than HIM!"

I giggled. "Sorry, buddy. You're never going to be older than John." I smiled, happy in my little Buzz World.

"I'm not?" he asked softly.

"Nope," I answered, popping the 'p'.

He gazed at something over my head for a moment, then looked back at me. "You know what I want you to do? For my birthday?"

"Make you older than John?"

He grinned, but didn't say anything to that. "I want you to go home with Ringo."

Every muscle in my body seemed to freeze up. We both turned to look at him. He was standing off the side of the bar, talking to a group of girls animatedly. I noticed that his eyes kept falling on the same one. She was his type; shortish blonde hair, big blue eyes, skinnier than a twig. She almost fell into him a couple times with the force of her laughter. And he was eating it all up.

I turned back to George, trying to look cheerful. "Oh, looks like he's already got a girl for tonight. Too bad!"

George waved that off. "You're b-" hiccup "-etter than her."

I raised my eyebrows. "Better?"

He nodded vigorously. "Better."

John came striding up to us before he could elaborate, a girl hooked on each arm. "Well hello there, Georgie Boy! I've got your present!" The redhead blushed and hid her face in her hands. "Meet Michelle."

"'Ello," George greeted, holding out his hand. Michelle revealed her face, shaking George's hand with a giggle.

"John," I said casually, "where's your girlfriend this fine evening?"

John narrowed his eyes. "What the fuck are you going on about now?"

"Pam."

George sniggered into his hand, and even Michelle and John's girl grinned a little bit. Apparently the Polythene Pam legacy still lived on.

John took a deep breath. I thought he was going to go ape shit on me, but instead he called out, "Oh, Ringo!"

"NO!" I yelled, lunging at him and covering his mouth with my hand. "We had a deal. Remember?" I hissed.

He slowly peeled my hand off his mouth in drunken superiority. "I don't break my promises," he informed me.

I laughed bitterly. "I can name a few hundred that you've broken, actually, but I think we should start with me being home before morning." I gave him my best Evil Eye.

"You will be," he said confidently, but I could tell that he was just saying that so that I would look stupid instead of him.

"Oh, sure I will be." He nodded as though he knew everything in the world. Seriously, I wanted to kill him right then and there. But I was practicing my new habits of self-control, and I took a step back.

"We ought to get going," Michelle murmured into George's ear. He nodded, then took her hand and stood up.

"Night, A.J. Night, John."

Neither of us looked at him, but at the same time we said, "Happy Birthday."

John was still glaring at me, but I had nothing left to say to him. I thought now would be a good time to start wrangling up the rest of the boys. At least now that George was gone there was one less to worry about.

"I'm leaving," John proclaimed, then turned around without another word. His girl pattered after him, obviously afraid of being in the world without Big Bad John Lennon. I swear, some people just make me MAD. Mad enough to scream. But I most of the time I don't.

I asked around, finding out that Paul had long since left with a whole crowd of girls. Figures. That boy had probably been with every girl in this place at LEAST once. I was going to have to have a word with him about his man-whorish ways.

That left Ringo. God, this was their plan all along, wasn't it? They were going to leave me to take home Ringo! Ugh, I hated them. Paul, George…and ESPECIALLY John. They are going to be the death of me, I swear it!

"Rings?" I hollered as I pushed through the mobs of sweaty and smoky dancers. "RINGO?"

"I'm right here, luv." He stepped out from behind a group of tall (sorry, but it's the truth) men. "Dance with me?"

Fuck that. If I couldn't even TALK to him, how the hell was I supposed to DANCE with him? "Ummm…" I hesitated. Think of an excuse! "Uh…what about that girl you were with earlier."

Ringo cocked his head. "What girl?"

"The blonde one."

"There are a LOT of blonde ones."

I rolled my eyes. "The one with the shorter hair…? You like shorter hair, right?" My hair was long as hell. Long and wildly curly and annoying. Ringo probably didn't like it.

He didn't answer, but he reached behind me and gave a good tug on one of my ringlets, making it spring back up instantly. He giggled into his palm. "I like that!" he told me, pointing at the piece of hair. I sighed. Silly drunk Ringo.

"So we're dancing?" he asked, pulling out onto the middle of floor. My hand felt like it as on fire from where he was grabbing it.

"I don't-"

"Hello, A.J."

Ringo was already shaking his head wildly and jumping around, but I did one of those slow dramatic turns. I recognized that voice.

"Chuck," I squeaked. Yes, Chuck indeed. He was still a hulking mass of man, and everyone around him seemed to part. I didn't realize it but there was a circle forming, and we were in the center. And Ringo was still dancing.

I took a slow step backwards, right into Ringo. His moving ceased as he looked up, finding that we weren't alone.

"And Ringo!" Chuck snarled, giving him a menacing smile. "How great to see you!" I noticed that there was a slight bump in Chuck's previously award-winning nose. Ringo broke his nose!

Ringo gulped, then looked at me. "See the things you get me into?" Our audience tittered at this comment.

Chuck shook his head. "You'll be sorry for this, funny man. You can bet on it."

Then things started happening too fast. Chuck was suddenly springing forward, reaching out his hands and twisting his face into a deadly expression. Without thinking, I hopped on Ringo's back and prodded him with a squeeze of my legs, which made him realize that was going on. With me riding shotgun, he took off to the doors. Chuck couldn't react quick enough, and soon we were swallowed by the crowd.

"Come back here, you-" Chuck bellowed, but he was cut off because we dashed out of the Cavern Club at that same exact moment.

"He'll kill them all," Ringo muttered as I jumped down from his back. "Especially Paul."

I laughed. "Nah, they're all gone."

"Where?"

I cleared my throat awkwardly. "With…er…friends."

Ringo cocked his head in confusion. "Friends? We should join them!" He smiled excitedly, stopping with in his tracks and jumping up and down. I put my hands on his shoulders, letting gravity be my buddy.

"No, Rings. Not friends. FRIENDS!" I widened my eyes. Usually, the guys laughed when I did this. Paul once said that I looked a lot like John when I did that. Yeah, now THAT was awkward.

He still looked confused. "What…? Are they…REALLY good friends?" His drunken mind didn't seem capable of processing what I was trying to tell him.

I sighed. I was going to have to say it. Under normal circumstances, this wouldn't bother me the least bit. But here's the thing: nowadays, I have to watch what I say, because even the smallest thing with Ringo's triggers a bright red face. "They went home with some girls."

Ringo turned to look at me, his eyes darting around my face as he tried to focus. "I'm going home with a girl, too!" He giggled, putting his palm to his mouth.

"There's a difference," I informed him, turning a deep red color. Did he know what he was doing to me? Jesus!

Thank God that he suddenly got bored with the subject, and he started jabbering away about something else. "…and now I'm going to sing you a song!" Oh, please help me God.

I laughed uneasily. "A…song?"

"Yup. I'm feeling…" he looked up, searching for the word. "…inspirated."

I tried not to laugh at him. Poor Ringo always mixing things up and making new words. He was so cute! "You mean inspired?"

"Yeah, that's it." We started to walk up the steps to the house, me inwardly cringing as he opened up his mouth wide. But nothing came out but a loud burp, which I swear to God echoed around the entire block. Ringo, being drunk, thought this was the funniest thing in the world. He collapsed midstep and shook with laughter. This, I thought, would have happened whether he was drunk or not.

I rolled my eyes, stooping and giving him a hand up. I half-carried him into the house, and then down the hall to the entrance of his bedroom. I leaned him up against the wall, and seemed recovered enough from his laugh attack to stand by himself.

"Thanks for bringing me here," he said, his face suddenly more serious.

I shrugged. "I wouldn't leave you to fight to the death with Chuck. I'm mean, but I'm not CRUEL." The way he was looking at me was making my cheeks fire up all over again. What the hell was the matter with me? If I kept this up, he was going to see through my act and then- God, I didn't even want to think about that.

He chuckled, and I turned around to go back to my bed. If I could, though, I'd spend forever standing right here. But that wasn't a possibility. See, there are two types of people that ALWAYS tell the truth; little kids and drunken people. And I don't especially want to know what Ringo is thinking, because I KNOW that it's not about me. Not like that, at least.

He caught my hand as I was thinking these things, turning me right back around to face him. "Aren't you gonna come in?" he asked with a small giggle, gesturing to his door.

Even though I could tell he was kidding, his words made my heart speed up a little bit. "Oh, leave me alone."

He pretended to be offended. "Is it because of my nose?"

"Ha, yeah, that's it."

He put his hands on his hips. "Well I NEVER!"

I laughed, throwing my head back. This triggered a memory from the first night I was here. We were sitting in the Cavern Club (me, Ringo, and Paul), and that Rita whore was there, all over Paulie. I remember thinking that no one ever did that for real. And now I realize that Rita was probably just as enamored with Paul as I was with Ringo. Only, I couldn't see it back then because I guess I've just never had a crush this big. I sorta regretted being so mean to her now.

My head snapped back up, and then I was looking Ringo right in the eye, daring him to see right through me. It was kinda intense, and with anyone but him it would have been awkward. But Ringo had those pretty blue eyes, and looking into them once again things were said silently between us. Things people just can't say out loud for fear of their life.

He took a slow, measured step forward, as though testing it. I moved right along with him, taking a step backwards and hitting the wall. He stepped forward once more so that now he was right up against me. He brought one hand up, gently running it over my pink cheek, my stupid turned up nose, my too full for my face lips. But if he was disgusted in anyway by these imperfections, he didn't show it.

"A.J…" he whispered. I couldn't do anything at all, I was just SO paralyzed by his eyes. All thoughts in my head were screaming his name, but I could do nothing but press myself up against the wall and hope for the best. He smiled, and the sight of it almost made me pass out. My heart was thundering in my chest, butterflies tickling the interior of my belly. He leaned in slowly, enjoying what he was doing to me, I think. My jaw was shaking, hell, my entire BODY was shaking. And still I couldn't look away from those striking cerulean eyes.

His mouth was centimeters away from mine, and I could feel its light touch as his smile disappeared. Gently, ever so slowly, his lips lightly touch mine…

Fuck.

The effect was instantaneous. His lips were magical, zapping mine with this addicting voltage. I gasped, my mouth falling open, and jumped a little bit. Smirking, he raised his hands and put them on either side of my face, keeping it steady. I could tell that he intended to torture me more by just standing like that for a few seconds, so one of my hands jumped to take a fistful of hair, and the other grabbed his tie. Then I pulled his head closer to mine so that I could reach it. I kissed him on my own terms then.

Ringo's kissing was addicting. It was soft and sweet, and always left you wanting more. After a minute, his hands started drinking downward, wrapping around my waist and forcing me into his body. Not like I cared. I would do anything to be closer to him.

He was full on kissing me now, the gentleness all but gone. He was becoming urgent. He moved his mouth off of mine, saying breathlessly, "C'mon." His hand caught one of mine, and he began to softly tug me toward the open door that led to his room. All of a sudden, my thoughts that had been before completely numb and useless kicked in. No, they said. This isn't right.

"You're drunk," I whispered as best as I could, as he was placing small butterfly kisses around my mouth and down to my neck.

"So?"

"So…" His lips returned to mine, and the electricity there made me sigh and lean into him. I was totally losing this fight. Against all odds, I pulled away. "People do stupid things when they're drunk."

He laughed. "Don't I know it."

"How do I know this is what you really want?" He stopped laughing, his face becoming serious. Ringo opened his mouth, but no words came out. He frowned.

"How DO I know?"

A feeling of dread started to creep over me. I was no better than all those other one night stands. Would he even remember this in the morning? "How the hell should I know?" I snapped back.

A normal person would have rolled their eyes and walked away, but Ringo, apparently, wasn't normal. He closed the gap between us once more, laughing. "What am I gonna do with you?" he asked.

Okay, I'm not proud to admit that I thought of a LOT of different answers to what he could do with me. So you didn't hear anything…got it?

He took a step back, the light from his room framing him angelically in the doorway. "Are you sure?" he wanted to know.

I was in awe of him, and it took my dulled thoughts an extra few seconds to come up with an answer. "Uh…" I blinked. "You're drunk," I repeated stupidly.

He nodded. "That I am." He grinned toothily. "Are you SURE-"

"Good night, Ringo," I interrupted. I gave him an amused look.

"Good night, A.J.," he answered, shooting the look right back. Then he closed the door, emptying the hall of any light.

I stayed where I was, rooted to the ground. Did that really just happen? And if I did, tell me God, WHY did I turn him down? Why the hell did you make me so stupid, God? WHYYYYYY? Eventually, I wandered to my bed, my thoughts still in a haze. I grabbed my giraffe pillow that Paul bought even though he KNEW I was scared of those spotted creatures, cuddling it as I lay on my bed. Gently closing my eyes, I tried to remember a time that I was ever sad. I came up with nothing. Images swam through my brain, and then all of a sudden he was there; Ringo.

Has anything ever hit you with such force that it takes your breath away? Have you ever realized something so major that it monopolizes your brain, invading every single space? Have you ever been in complete and utter denial about something one second, and the next believing it with all your heart? Yeah…

I would like to say that was the moment when I knew the true meaning of a word I had been hearing all my life, and I would also like to say that I was beyond happy upon knowing the truth of my feelings. But if I said that, it would be a lie. Because this all started months ago, when I first met him. And ever since then, I had been doing nothing but falling, falling, falling. And then when it was most obvious, it smacked me across the face. Silly girl, it said. Look what you've done! And I probably should have guessed it once he kissed me. But the point, my friends, is that I didn't. And once it was there, right in my thoughts, I couldn't push it away. And to think, it hit me so suddenly, so swiftly. In one second. Just one. And I knew that no matter how this whole ordeal worked out, I would remember it forever.

For that was the very second that I realized that I was illogically, passionately, and undeniably in love with Ringo Starr. That was the second that forever altered my life.

!

CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS? I BET NONE OF YOU SAW IT COMING! Haha, that was sarcasm, people. Anyways, yeah. A.J. is in love with Ringo. Crazy stuff, huh? And Ringo kissed her, that little devil :^). Oh, but we love him. And let's not forget, guys, that that was a drunken kiss. Just throwing that out there.

So, in case I haven't bragged endlessly about this to my family (not that they gave a rat's ass) but I HAVE OVER A HUNDRED REVIEWS! I love you guys SO much for supporting me AND A.J. in her Beatles Quest. It means the world to me, it truly does. And I know this is off topic, but this was a long ass chapter! I felt pretty BA uploading it and seeing it with all my other short chapters. :^) This was supposed to be up days ago, by the way, but I am Catherine Grace, Queen of Procrastination and also The Laziest Bitch on Earth, soooo yeah. And I STILL don't think I got the ending OR the kiss right. But I think I've gone on long enough…aw, HELLS yeah I have. SO thanks again, guys. REVIEW and I'll…ummm…give John a compliment in the next chapter! Yeah, we'll have a contest. My favorite compliment will go in the chappie! And also (yes, it's true, I can talk even MORE) I put up a new poll, so if you wanna go have a looksy at that no one's stopping ya! Alright…where was I? Right, REVIEW!