I watched Paul, John, George and Pete walk onto stage in their new suits getting an outstanding response from their female audience much to the satisfaction of my uncle, who had spent hours before the gig convincing them to wear them. The turning point for the boys happened when a group of girls had passed by them waving seductively, obviously drawn in by their appearances of posh young businessmen.

While they began their set I had been standing near the back with Ringo, whom I'd become to be pretty close to since we hit it off at the party a few days ago. He was quite lovable like a big teddy bear, despite his rugged appearance. His multiple rings on each hand, piercing blue eyes and leather jacket could make him seem very intimidating to someone who didn't know him, the only giveaway to his personality being the huge grin he always wore ear to ear that could brighten anyone's day.

"You mean to tell me you haven't talked to George since Friday?" Ringo spoke shocked. I shrugged and nodded ashamed of myself. The guys had passed in the shop a couple of times to talk to my uncle Brian but I was still so nervous to say anything to George, I didn't want to ruin things like I usually seemed to do, I mean I was about to ruin Paul's relationship, I wasn't ready to accidentally ruin another one of my own.

"What am I supposed to say?" I spoke warily, my eyes practically bulging out of my head at the thought of trying to speak to him after our moment on Friday. Ritchie rolled his eyes and shook his head. Although I hated to admit it, I really liked George and I was frightened to let myself become so close to him so quickly, the last thing I wanted is to have my trust built up only to be broken like the last time I tried to love someone.

"Let me think, maybe, I dunno, hello?" Ringo spoke sarcastically. I gave him a blank stare watching him become quite irratated by the situation. I listened to the loud booms of the boys instruments for a moment as they started to play.

"Alright, I know, but I'm nervous enough as it is to tell Paul about Iris, I can only handle so much at once." I sighed heavily. Ringo nodded understandingly, knowing the whole story I had told George after I'd explained it to him and John just before we'd left the party. I would've told Pete too but I hadn't seen him, or even talked to him at the party, I was becoming to favour Ringo better than one of my uncles own clients. Only if Ringo was in the Beatles.... one can dream, I thought to myself longingly.

The tension George and John felt from keeping the secret from Paul was evident onstage, they were trying so hard to act naturally the smiles on their faces looked rehearsed and their eyes wandered anywhere other than where Paul was standing, it was almost humorous.

"I love this song!" Ringo exclaimed happily after a moment of listening to the loud blare of the music. I had recognized it as Money originally by Barrett Strong, and smiled as Ringo took my hand to drag me out to the dance floor. It wasn't nearly as crowded in the club as usual because of it being 8 o'clock on a school night but there were still some people making it crowded enough for my cheeks to heat up from being dragged in the middle of everyone once I realized he wanted to dance.

Once we got out to the middle of the room Ringo started to dance to the music happily, leaving me to stand awkwardly watching him unable to keep rhythm properly even if it hit me over the head. I started to internally panic wanting to avoid embarrassing myself in front of the people around us starting to stare at the two of us.

Quickly Ringo noticed my predicament and held out one of his hands full of gold jewelry. I accepted it and he twirled me around and started to lead me in a jive dance making the both of us start to laugh uncontrollably as we danced around like maniacs, seeming to forget we were in public.

We danced through three whole songs that the boys played without a break, fooling around and laughing constantly. Surprisingly enough he was a great dance partner, and seemed to be pretty confident dancing easing my tensions about my horrid lack of rhythm.

Nearing the end of the last song Ringo dipped me pausing for a moment, his bright blue eyes boring into mine as I was tilted in his arms comfortably. I was completely dazed and flustered for a moment looking at his softened expression as his gaze scanned across the features of my face before I started to giggle once again cutting whatever sort of moment it was short.

"Where did you learn how to dance?" I asked breathlessly with a smile and he helped me stand up straight again. He shrugged humbly with a small smile. We both laughed as Paul spoke a goodnight to the audience and they cheered loudly, satisfied with their performance.

We found my uncle near the front and stood with him to wait for the boys, with Ringo and my uncle both encouraging me to tell Paul about Iris now that the band had a short break of time until they went back to Germany and Paul would have enough time to recover.

No one wanted to see Paul hurt but I couldn't let Iris use Paul any longer, it wasn't right. Right on cue the boys stepped out greeting us happily, all except for George who stared blankly at me, sending jolts of insecurity through me, unsure of what I had done. My brain began to jump to conclusion that he was serious upset with me, but why, I wasn't completely sure.

"That was an incredible performance boys, absolutely amazing." My uncle praised the boys happily with a giant grin, obviously seeming to overlook the fact that no one would look at Paul, and George seemed as if someone had just murdered his new dog.

I forced myself to turn to Paul and was about to ask to take him aside when, by some sort of twisted fate, Iris popped into sight, running into Paul's arms. I tensed up instantly, dreading having to see her again after what happened at the party after the night carried on from George and I's moment.

"Oh Paul, you were great! And, your band isn't terrible.." Iris said sounded unenthusiastic as if she meant to insult the other guys. John rolled his eyes and gave me a look as to say sarcastically, greeeatt.

Dumbfounded, I turned to George looking for some sort of indication of what to do next leaving him to scoff and walk past me moodily making me worried I had done something seriously wrong to upset him. I turned to Ringo for clarification and he only shrugged.

"What's wrong with George?" My uncle asked curiously, after watching the odd string of events that had just occurred.

"I don't know, the kid is always on about something." John dismissed it with a shrug.

Kid. A pang of irritation for John's use of the word washed through me remembering Friday.

________ Last Friday________

"George and Poppy. Has some sort of ring to it." John said drunkenly pulling his arms George and I with a lazy smile. Looks like Cynthia's driving home tonight, I thought to myself amusedly.

"Alright John." George spoke humourlessly prying himself away from John. John had been nonstop teasing George the whole night and we were all becoming a bit tired of it.

"You're lucky George, she's something." John looked me up and down, his arm still around my shoulder tightly. There's only one thing more inappropriate than John's comments; a drunken John's Lennon's  comments. I rolled my eyes even though I felt like laughing at John's current level of intoxication.

"Oh lay off Lennon." George groaned obviously done with the comments.

"Who do you think you're talking to, kid?" John spoke putting emphasis on kid to intimidate to the younger eighteenth year old band mate. George approached him with anger piercing in his clouded brown eyes. I winced as Paul stepped in between the two of them holding hands on both of their chests without Iris in sight making me sigh in relief.

"Alright ladies you're both pretty." Paul sighed.

"Says the one who wears mascara." John slurred angrily. Paul stared at John blankly for a moment.

"This isn't about me." He said flatly not confirming nor denying John's statement.

While Paul and Ringo talked some sense into the two of them I slipped away down a hallway hoping to find a bathroom to have a break from the loud booms of noise and thick white clouds of smoke that made my throat tighten in irritation.

I wandered down the hall and creaked the first door on the right open to find a darkened bedroom where two people were laying on the mattress on top of each other having an intimate moment, but of course, it wasn't just any two horny teenagers; it was Iris with yet another guy. I gasped as they pulled apart and they both looked over to where I was standing.

"I was looking for the bathroom." I spoke quickly and bolted out back to the sea of teenagers absolutely baffled. How had she managed to come here with Paul and pick up another guy when he's fixing a problem between his friends? He didn't deserve to be treated so awfully by someone he trusted. No one should have to feel the way I had, especially not Paul. He was a very genuine and kind lad, I thought very highly of him, a talented young songwriter who knew what he wanted, yet didn't let his abilities go to his head.

Once I found all five of the guys and Cynthia together I felt sick to my stomach. I looked at Paul with pain etched over my features. What do I say? I had to tell someone, so without over thinking I quickly pulled Cynthia aside to talk about everything that had taken place until now. If Cynthia could handle John Lennon, she could handle anything. Once I had finished my rant, she stood there for a moment in bewilderment.

"That bloody two faced git! I never liked her." Cynthia was red in the face with anger. I bit down on my lip so hard I started to draw blood. I wasn't sure what I was going to say to anyone else yet but now that Iris knew I knew about her dirty secret it wasn't going to be easy to talk to Paul.

______________

"-Penelope Anne." My uncle spoke for what seemed to be the millionth time from his tone of voice. I looked at him blankly making him sigh.

"We better get going." He repeated and I nodded wordlessly. I had a terrible pit in my stomach from Iris's presence in the room, from the corner of my eye, I saw her stare burning into me fiercely to try and scare me into silence, and it was working fairly well for her. I followed my uncle outside into the brisk night air that pushed the strays of  platinum blond hair from my eyes.

"I'm worried about you Poppy." My uncle Brian spoke up as we walked over to his car. I held my breath. This conversation was bound to end terribly.

"W-what do you mean?" I pursed my lips together tightly.

"Well, how close you've been getting to the boys, especially-" He spoke protectively like a father would. I admired that he took responsibility to be a father figure for me but this conversation has barely begun was already by far one of the most uncomfortable we've ever had.

"-George is just a friend." I babbled quickly hoping to end the conversation there without further prying.

"I meant Richard." He said with a shocked look on his face making me want to kick myself. Of course he did, he hadn't known that George and I had kissed. I was only digging my grave deeper and deeper.

"So did I." I spoke wide eyed knowing there was no taking back what had left my lips. He gave me a look but continued on.

"I'm worried you'll get hurt by one of these boys." He looked at me pitifully before we each got in the car. As I shut the door I couldn't help but blush and think the same thing myself.

"I won't." I mumbled solemnly, dismissive of the awkward tension this conversation was creating. I watched out the window as we started to pass along the deserted streets off to the house.

"You know you can talk to me. I'm not your parent, but I love you to bits Poppy. I don't know where I'd be today without you." My uncle Brian said making me feel extremely guilty and emotional. I turned to him, my eyes glazing over with tears. He was better than my own father was to me, I thought to myself with a bittersweet emotion taking over my conscious.

From time to time I wondered what it would be like to come home to what people would consider as a normal home, a father who worked all day but would always come home to be supportive and caring, and a mother who stayed home to take care of younger siblings and who would always reassure me that I was worth being loved.

Instead, I come to a home with my uncle, and although it may seem lonely sometimes when he works late, or sad when it's only the two of us at a large dining table meant for a family of six, I don't think I'd rather be anywhere else. I knew my uncle Brian loved me more than anything else in this world and I would feel completely lost without him. That's why I knew Germany was going to be the iceberg to my titanic. I was resenting the date he had to leave on more and more each day.

"I'll be alright." I reassured him meekly. "I love you uncle Bri." I smiled at his now joyful expression.

"I love you too Poppy." He smiled to himself as he kept his eyes to the road like the careful driver he was. I smiled down at my hands in my lap warmly, for the first time in awhile, in that moment I felt completely loved and at peace. The calm before the storm.