"Err, Twenty one, five foot eleven, er, the next record's going to be out soon, but I don't know when." Paul answered smiling into the camera, laughing slightly at the end after being told the question that the teen girl had asked for him to answer.

"Alright, the next question is, what do you prefer, mods or rockers?" The reporter asked looking down at his cue cards.

Everyone thought that it was best that the teens weren't in the studio when the boys were answering their questions due to safety purposes and so screaming and comments wouldn't be audible on the tapes.

I was standing off to the side with Brian and the other Beatles watching Paul answer the questions first. Pattie had left earlier, which eased my tenseness slightly, although it was still very much there.

"Um, dunno. I-I like, any of them," he almost started laughing.

He was in a very good mood this afternoon, it was clear. He looked like he just wanted to get out of the chair however, I bet he could almost taste freedom outside, they had all been working so hard today.

"Uh, mockers, I like, I think they're the best." He paused, probably remembering the speech my uncle had given about being serious for once during this interview.

"No, no real preferences." Paul corrected himself making me fight hard to contain my laughter, what the bloody hell was a mocker? He looked over after he was finished answering and smiled a little before turning back.

"Why is it Paul that your always described as the most intelligent one of The Beatles? Are you?" The reporter read beside the camera man curiously, almost sounding like a huge fan himself.

"No I'm not, no. John's written a book y'know, so he must be more intelligent than me." Paul spoke humbly.

"Thanks." From beside me John grinned, making my uncle sigh.

"You got to be intelligent to write books." Paul continued smiling at John's gratitude.

"Is it true you're going to be engaged to Jane Asher?" The reported asked making me nearly choke on my own spit, that was something I hadn't heard about.

"No, it's not true, um, the papers started off by saying I was already engaged, now the papers tell me I'm married, they tell me I'm divorced now so, maybe I am married," He took a sideways glance towards us.

"Sorry, maybe I am married, I dunno." He said even more sarcastically, I grinned and shook my head.

"The papers tell me I am, I don't think I am," He spoke casually.

"I'm not getting engaged, no." He spoke finally.

"Great, thank you Paul." The reporter shook hands with Paul as he rose from his chair.

"Well that's exhausting isn't it?" I looked at John who simply shrugged. I never realized that the stress of being asked questions on the spot could be so overwhelming, Paul made it look so easy.

"We've had lots of practice y'know, it's just annoying." John whispered the last part making me snicker as George went to go sit in the chair next.

I didn't hear what was asked but I heard George's voice, I don't really think I had heard much of it at all when they weren't taping.

"Uh, we play marbles, or marples." He quipped making the group laugh underneath their breath.

"How are you getting on making your first film?" The reporter inquired.

"Oh, we're having a great time, and uh, yeah." He paused.

"This is the studio as you can see," He spoke half smiling motioning behind him. I could see the fang like canines that I almost forgot about, making me fight a frown. I felt as if I were being punished for something, but what exactly, I had no clue.

"And uh, we're about half way through the film, we've got about another three weeks to go, and everything's going great, I think." George went on.

The director thanked George and asked for Ringo. I watched George get up from the chair and begin to walk over. He looked up and noticed I was mindlessly staring at him longingly, I quickly looked away, I really had to stop doing that.

"What would you have done if you weren't a Beatle?"

I noticed the complete dull and solemn expression on Ringo's face.

"Is he trying to be sarcastic?" I asked John. John knitted his eyebrows together.

"I haven't a clue." He said letting out a quiet laugh.

"Um, I would've still been an engineer, or something, still working." He said completely monotonously. I tuned out for a second watching John stare at the drummer in absolutely confusion and amusement.

"-what's the point in being serious all the time?" Ringo said at the end of his interview, without any emotion whatsoever, making John completely lose it. I couldn't help but laugh either, it seemed like he was trying to be ironic but I wasn't sure he was even making a joke.

Next it was John's turn, and I saw my uncle do a quick prayer in my peripheral vision.

"-I'd lose my nerves if I could see everyone in the audience y'know, I like to have it all vague." He nodded giving a nice first response to the question asked.

Next he was asked why he had to get married, being John his answer was the least romantic thing I could possibly imagine.

"The same reason anyone gets married, I don't mean to be slushy like but, you do don't you, when you got to go, you got to go, as I always say." He smiled making Paul roll his eyes.

"What's it got to do with you?" John narrowed his eyes at the camera.

"Good thing Cynthia left, with an answer like that I would bet she'd make him sleep on the couch tonight, using an analogy that's used about pissing." I scrunched my nose in distaste. Paul nodded in agreement.

The boys all went over to chairs that were set up so they could wrap up the interview, leaving Brian and I.

"I hope you don't mind, but I invited the boys up to the flat tonight to talk about business stuff." My uncle spoke worriedly like I was going to object the idea.

"I don't mind at all." I rejoiced.

"Great, we've got paperwork waiting at the flat to do in the meantime." Brian grinned.

"Great." I repeated unenthusiastically.

"That reminds me, Can you go to the lads' dressing room and grab my briefcase for me please?" He asked politely, I nodded tiredly, I suppose this was the kind of work I'd be looking forward to.

I walked through the hallways until I found the dressing room, slipping in and grabbing it along with my bag as quickly as possible.

I opened to door and stepped out, almost running straight into George. I looked into his eyes, startled. After a moment of silence, staring at one another, I spoke up.

"Er, Sorry." I moved out of his way shyly so he could get by into the dressing room. I began to walk away, my cheeks reddening.

"Poppy." I heard George's voice making me stop in my tracks.

"Yeah?" I turned back inquisitively.

"I'm sorry for not saying much today." He blurted honestly, the words just seeming to have needed to be let off his chest.

"Oh, it's okay, I understand." I grinned slightly, in attempt to make him feel better. Although we were broken up and I was currently unsure if we were even friends, I truly never wanted him to be hurt or feel bad.

"No, I'm a prick." He sighed.

He fished into his back pocket and pulled out an envelope.

"I wrote you a letter this month. I-I wasn't done yet, but I want you to have it." He spoke softly, evidently feeling vulnerable.

I took it feeling warm in the face once again, thanking him.

"I'll see you later then? At Brian's flat?" George inquired hopefully.

"Yeah, I'll see you later." I nodded. I watched as he entered into the dressing room, a grin etched on my lips. Well that was unexpected.
____________

"Knock knock." Ringo sang out as he entered my uncle and I's flat.

For the afternoon I was helping my uncle out with his calls and work papers that were now scattered along the dining room table, the two of us neck deep in work for his various clients.

I had on a pair of blue pyjama shorts along with a a plain white t-shirt I had stolen from Brian's dresser because they were so comfortable, my hair thrown up in a ponytail as I bit at my index fingernail.

I looked up from the papers, seeing Ringo and George walking through the door. I smiled at the two of them as my uncle turned around from the other side of the table to say hello.

I couldn't help but blush slightly either, George's letter was very kind. He had wrote it when they were away to America, explaining what they had done while they were there, and even saying he missed me. It made me feel slightly better, maybe we were friends then. I understood however that maybe him having a girlfriend now made him uneasy about talking to me, I was his ex girlfriend after all. That would explain why he hadn't said anything to me anyway.

"Paul and John haven't gotten here yet?" George asked sitting down next to Brian, looking down at the papers.

"No, they should be here soon." Brian said looking at his watch.

"Gear." Spoke Ringo as he sat down at the end of the table.

"Does anyone fancy a cuppa?" I asked after a moment, getting up from my chair.

They all asked for one kindly and I made my way to the kitchen, letting them begin their business talk that I became quickly lost in, not sure of what exactly was the topic of their discussion.

I filled the kettle with water and put it on the stove to boil. I then opened the cabinet, staring at the tea bags that were too high up for me to reach, making me sigh deeply. I looked back, seeing they were already deep in a conversation about work, so I decided I would have to get it myself, I really didn't want to interrupt.

As stealthily as I could, I hoisted myself up kneeling on the edge of the counter, gripping tightly on the cabinets to keep my from falling backwards. I reached and grabbed the box of tea bags, setting them down beside me on the counter.

"Poppy?" Brian inquired, puzzled.

I turned my head around, still on the counter.

"What are you doing?" He asked, trying not to grin. I noticed all three of them watched me, entertained.

"Making tea." I smiled wearily at him, carefully getting down from the counter as gracefully as I could.

There was a knock at the door.

"I'll get that." I spoke hurriedly before walking over to the front door, embarrassed.

"Hi John." I greeted pleasantly, opening the door for him.

"Hello love." He smiled as he took off his hat, giving me a quick peck on the cheek in a brother like fashion as he came into the apartment, with his Buddy Holly like glasses on making him appear calmer and more mature then usual.

"Paul isn't here yet?" John inquired walking over to sit with the rest of the boys as I shut the door behind him.

"No, he said something earlier about finishing a song he was writing. He should be here soon." George shrugged.

I noticed a stack of news papers on the console table next to the door and picked one up that had today's date, bringing it back over to the kitchen to read while I waited for the tea.

I flipped through a couple pages uninterestedly, completely bored with the news, when I found something that almost made me shriek out in utter shock.

I was in the papers. Next to Paul and John from the photographs from last night.

Oh god, it was already bad enough it was in the news, Brian would freak out if he found out the papers had gotten their hands on the story.

"Is something wrong Poppy?" Brian asked, seeing the horrified look on my face.

"No, nothing's wrong." My voice squeaked slightly.

I cleared it nervously.

"It's just, the papers, shocking stuff." I lied through my teeth.

I noticed John gave me an odd look, blatantly not buying into it, making me blush slightly in embarrassment. I couldn't even put together why it was a story in the news, and I didn't even bother looking twice, I was utterly mortified.

The tea kettle whistled suddenly making my heart rate steady and a sigh of relief escape my lips.

I turned to the tea kettle, allowing a conversation among themselves to spark once again about some financial talk I had no interest in.

I prepared the tea, thoughts running through my mind anxiously.

Surely Brian hadn't read it yet, he would've said something to me. Maybe if I hid it he wouldn't even know. Bloody fucking hell, news gets around quick here.

I took the page with the article and swiftly slipped it into the garbage bin underneath the sink, then grabbing the tea tray, I walked over to the table and set it down to make them their tea.

"Sorry I'm late, oh god I'm sorry." Paul entered the apartment suddenly, apologizing vigorously.

"I heard you were writing a song?" John asked with an eyebrow cocked between Paul's apologies.

"Yeah." Paul nodded meekly, sitting down next to John.

"What's it called?" John inquired, an eyebrow raised, showing his competitiveness slightly. I'm sure John was just waiting to hear what song he had to top next, it was really how their whole partnership worked.

"I dunno yet." Paul brushed off dismissively.

"George, have you got a cig?" I heard Ringo ask, as he patted his empty pockets.

"No," He spoke sliding his hands against his pants pockets.

"I must've forgotten them in the flat." George looked apologetically at Ringo.

My eyebrows rose up slightly in surprise. I noticed the surprised look on Ritchie's face as well, his expression seeming as if it was completely out of character for George to have just forgotten them.

"I've got you Ringo." John said in a funny voice pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and extending them towards the drummer.

I handed out their tea, listening to my uncle attempt to get them on track.

"Ta." Paul thanked me winking as I handed him the cup. A pink tinge filled my cheeks as I filled the next cup, Paul was such a flirt, I thought to myself fighting a grin.

I looked up to George to hand it to him, realizing he was already looking up at me. He quickly broke away from my eyes and landed down on the table, reminding me of the times back in Liverpool, when we had only just met and struggled to even say a word to each other.

Except this time, things were much more complicated.