A little similar to I Believe In You.

Ringo Imagine:

"Nobody wants you here!"

"Just get lost, you talentless freak!"

"Bring Pete back!"

Each comment, each insult, weighed heavily on Ringo's shoulders. The more the fans screamed at him, the heavier the weight, and the more difficult and painful it was to carry. He wasn't sure how much more he could take.

His band mates were constantly telling him to simply ignore it, that eventually they would warm up to him. How long, though? How long would Ringo have to wait until that day? And how was he supposed to know if that day would even come?

Perhaps he was being too sensitive... but each word that was thrown at him hurt. A lot. It was eating away at him, so much so that he was starting to believe that maybe the fans were right. Maybe Pete was just better than he was. Maybe Ringo simply wasn't as good a musician as he thought he was... The thought was terrifying. There wasn't anything else that he wanted to do except sing and play his drums. It was his life.

It was a long day of playing, singing, and hurtful insults. Eventually, the day came to an end. The other boys patted Ringo on the back, saying various, "Don't let it get to you, mate. They don't know what they're talking about."

The boys were gone, and after a few more people stopped by to sneer at the drummer, Ringo was alone at the club, cleaning up his drum set. Sighing heavily, he sat on the edge of the stage, running his fingers through his hair. He knew the boys were trying to be there for him, but they simply didn't understand. He felt empty. There wasn't anybody there that could empathize with him.

Or so he thought.

He heard the sound of a door opening and closing - probably one of the bathroom doors. You appeared in the empty club, eyebrows raised when you spotted your boyfriend sitting alone on the stage.

"I thought you left with the lads," you said, a small grin lighting up your face.

"I was just finishing up here," Ringo responded quietly. "Sorry. Shall we get going?"

The smile on your face quickly faded. "Are you alright?"

"Sure, I'm great."

You gazed at Ringo for a moment, then shook your head. "No you're not," you said sadly. You approached the stage and seated yourself next to him. "You can't possibly be okay after today."

Ringo shrugged. "S'no big deal," he said. "Doesn't matter anyway, does it? It'll just be the same tomorrow and the day after."

"Ritchie," you said softly, placing your hand on top of his. "Talk to me. You don't have to be like this."

"Like what?"

"Like what those people say doesn't bother you. Of course they do."

Ringo closed his eyes and sighed. "What difference will it make? You won't understand."

"I won't if you don't talk to me," you said. When Ringo didn't say anything, you cupped his cheek with your hand and made him look at you. "Ringo, I want to be there for you. I want to help you. But I can't if you don't say anything. Please, let me help you."

Ringo stared at you. He could feel your sincerity... and your empathy.

Nobody ever empathized with him...

"I just..." he sighed and hung his head. "I know that I'm new... No one knows me or anything. I didn't expect it to be easy at first. I just... didn't expect it to be this bad." He felt your hand thread through his hair in comfort. "And it occurred to me. They don't know me. I can't understand what it is that I'm doing wrong..."

"You're not doing anything wrong, Ritchie," you assured him softly. "Every day and every second you're here, you give it your all. There are people here who see that and appreciate that. It's those people who matter, not the bastards who put you down. You know what it is? They're jealous."

"Jealous?" Ringo chuckled humourlessly. "Jealous of what? Of me?"

"Yes," you said firmly. "Because you're the kindest, most generous man on the face of the planet with such enormous talent. They want to be like that, but there's too much hatred in their hearts. So they become envious. The people that support you no matter what and want to see you become better, those are real fans. Those are the ones that matter."

Ringo remained silent momentarily. "Will the hate ever stop?" he whispered.

You smiled sadly. "There's always going to be hate," you said quietly. "But it'll die down. Eventually, there'll be so much love that you won't even notice the hate."

You were right... The haters shouldn't matter to Ringo because there was love. And it never became so apparent to him. He was staring love right in the face.

He leaned forward and kissed you gently.

"Thank you, my love..."

Requested by @Petunia7799!