April 1960

The Cavern Club was rocking, just like it was every Saturday night. The bar was so busy Connie was rushed off her feet to exhaustion, though looking on the bright side her shift was finishing in ten minutes and for the most part of the night she'd had good music to listen to. As usual for a Saturday night it was Rory Storm and the Hurricanes playing, and there was something so electrifying about the atmosphere in the club during their set.

It was probably something to do with the charisma of the lead singer, Rory, since he seemed to hold everyone's attention, occasionally making eye contact with girls in the audience who proceeded to go wild. In fact, it was Connie's turn as he finished singing their last number as she looked up from serving someone to see he was looking over at her, and as soon as she met his gaze he winked over to her. She immediately looked away, back down to the pint she was pouring, unsure as to whether the flush she felt rising in her cheeks was due to embarrassment or from the heat of the club. It was most likely nerves, considering she'd never really been winked at before, but she wasn't going to think about that, forcing away her emotions as she saw Ringo fighting through the crowd to get to the bar.

"Great gig tonight, kid," Connie greeted him as he lent against the bar, looking him up and down with a slight grimace. "Jesus, you're sweating,"

"Yeah, it's hard work drumming, 'specially if I was doing a 'great job'," he grinned at her sarcastically, watching as she began to pour out his usual order without him even needing to ask.

"Yeah you were great, I can't believe Butlins doesn't want you back for another season," she commented, raising one of her eyebrows teasingly as Ringo faked a glare, though his look softened as she slid his pint over to him on the bar. "But seriously though, you were really great, the whole band was,"

"What, even better than the Quarrymen, or whatever they're calling themselves now?" Ringo asked with a small smirk, knowing her bias to her cousin's band. "But anyway, speaking of the whole band, Rory spotted us talking last time we played here,"

As he spoke, Connie's eyebrows creased together ever so slightly, unsure as to what he was getting at. With a frown, she glanced over Ringo's shoulder catching sight of Rory at the edge of the crowd. He was handsome, that was for sure, with his blond hair and striking eyes, plus the way he held himself with such confidence, no wonder he was surrounded by teenaged girls, all of whom were very beautiful, dressed up in dresses of the latest fashion. They all seemed like the sort of girls Connie would have avoided at school, and one in particular, the one grabbing hold of Rory's arm as she flicked her hair out of her eyes flirtatiously, looked an awful like the girl she punched so hard she broke her nose. After that scrap, no one had dared offend her, and she'd scared off any potential boyfriends, hence why she was so surprised that despite the very pretty girl fixated on him, Rory was still glancing over to her.

"He thought you were an alright lookin' bird," Ringo continued, and his statement made Connie snort out a rather unflattering laugh.

"Wow, doesn't he know how to woo a lady," she rolled her eyes. "You better not be over here as his wingman,"

Ringo shot her an apologetic look, a half hearted smirk crossing his face, telling her she'd guessed right. Connie let out a groan before she went to hit Ringo with the tea towel she was holding. The drummer ducked, letting out a shocked laugh, though that didn't stop her scowling at him.

"Fuck sake, Richard, I thought you were better than that," she sighed, though as she spoke she couldn't help but spare a glance over to Rory Storm. Ringo caught her looking over at him, and he raised an eyebrow at her that just seemed to irritate her.  "To be fair though, I don't blame him, getting you to do his dirty work,"

"And why's that then?" Ringo asked, sounding almost confrontational, as if he didn't believe what she was saying.

"Most lads are scared of me," she shrugged. "Everyone thinks I'm a violent maniac,"

"No they don't!" Ringo laughed, recalling the stories that went round about her breaking someone's nose after they insulted her. "If people thought that I'd have run away screaming as soon as I met you,"

"Whatever, even if lads don't think I'm a bitch, I wouldn't blame 'em if they didn't want to bother over me, I mean, have you ever met my cousin John?" Connie shrugged. "He's threatened to thump anyone who makes a move on me,"

That was true, as ever since Connie had hit her teen years, John had made it very clear that anyone coming near her for the purpose of courting had to be vetted by him, and he'd expressed very clearly that he thought no one was good enough for her. He was like a protective big brother, warding off any boys who weren't Paul, George or anyone else who was in their band, but she never brought it up to him. If anything she quite liked it, since his protectiveness seemed like something her mother would have put him up to, though it was unlikely since none of them really got to hear her last wishes thanks to the cruel and sudden means of her passing.

"Oh come off it, Con," Ringo exclaimed, laughing once more, taking her by surprise. "He's not your dad, who cares what he thinks! Have a bit of fun,"

Connie bit her lip slightly, glancing at the clock out of the corner of her eye, noting her shift had technically ended. Distracting herself from the matter at hand, she sighed, folding her tea towel as she avoided eye contact with the drummer. She knew he was right, he usually was, and for once, the thought of John's defensiveness over her didn't seem to hold her back. She was nearly eighteen and had never been on a date with anyone. She'd not even had her first kiss, and other than a childish crush on George that seemed to come and go, she'd never even experienced any feelings of love or lust. Maybe it was about time.

"Fine, bloody hell!" she exclaimed, leaning over to push Ringo's shoulder as she gestured over to Rory, who'd clearly been watching, given the grin on his face. "I'll bloody talk to him! What's the worst that can happen?"

***

It turned out that whatever worst possibilities that had crossed her mind were unnecessary, since after talking to Rory Storm for quite a while and letting him walk her home, Connie had decided Ringo had been right. It was quite nice to talk to someone who wasn't just a mate, someone who was interested in her for reasons other than friendship, so nice in fact that she'd even agreed to go on a date with him the night after. It was a big commitment for her, to promise to spend her only day off that week with someone she barely knew rather than hanging out it the boys at their band practice, but a commitment she was willing to make even if the other lads wouldn't be overly thrilled.

Connie had decided to go over to Paul's before Rory picked her up, just to at least show her face. Her day off was usually spent with the boys, either watching them practice or going to the pub, so she hadn't quite wrapped her head around the fact that none of that would be happening that night, even as she let herself in through the back door of Paul's house, inviting herself into the back room where they were rehearsing.

As soon as she'd opened the room door, the boys glanced to her out of the corner of their eyes before giving her a double look, their heads practically snapping up to look at her properly. In fact, John's eyes widened at the sight of her dressed up, whilst Paul let out a long wolf whistle and George nearly snapped a guitar string. Their reactions made her laugh, especially as John put his guitar aside, examining her appearance properly.

"Bloody hell who've you dressed all fancy for?" John asked, raising his eyebrow at Connie's outfit choice. She shot a wink over to him, twirling.

John was right, she was dressed fancy. George always thought she looked nice, but that night in particular she seemed to have made a special effort. Her outfit was new, he could tell since he'd not seen her wear a skirt since she left school nearly two years before, but there she was in a knee-length red skirt that flared out in an A-line cut that seemed to be all the fashion. She'd paired it with a collared white shirt, one that looked awfully like the one John had been wearing the week before, the sleeves rolled neatly up to her elbows and the top three buttons left open.  She'd smoothed her wild locks down into neat curls, pinning her bangs back with a small white ribbon, and though she wasn't wearing any makeup she seemed utterly radiant in a way that made George's stomach ache.

"He's right, y'know, you don't look half bad, Lennie," Paul approved, setting aside his own guitar.

"Yeah... you look beautiful, Con," George dared, and Connie flashed him a smile, though her eyes didn't quite settle on him. "What's the occasion?"

"Well... Don't be mad," she hesitated, her gaze fixed on John almost confrontationally. John frowned, his eyes narrowing as he tried to figure her out. "I'm going on a date,"

It didn't really matter how Paul and George reacted. It didn't matter that Paul snorted out a surprised laugh and George felt his heart sink in his chest, because whilst they were shocked, John's reaction was something else entirely. He shot to his feet, his jaw setting angrily, his fists clenching anxiously as Connie watched him, unflinching. He paced over to her, his face unreadable to everyone else in the room.

"Who?" he asked simply, trying to keep his tone calm.

"A lad," Connie shrugged, trying to stay casual because she knew if she made a big deal out of the whole thing John would flip.

"'Ey, is it that Rory Storm fella?" Paul interrupted fatally, Connie shooting him a glare as John looked between the two of them. "I saw him walk you home last night,"

"Fucks sake, Macca!" Connie exclaimed, letting out an exasperated laugh. "I was trying to be bloody subtle!"

"Sorry," Paul muttered, grabbing his guitar and beginning to retune it as if to distract himself from her annoyance. "It'd make sense though, y'know, since you're mates with his drummer,"

It did make sense, and that was probably the part that hurt George the most. Of course Rory Storm would ask her on a date, regardless of her friendship with Ringo Starr, anyone in their right mind would want to date Connie. She was beautiful, but she was clever too, with quick and cutting wit that he'd admired since they first met. She was brilliant, but yet so was Rory Storm, with his handsome good looks and good singing voice, not to mention he was older, had his own club and was the leader of one of the best bands in Liverpool. Of course Connie would want to date someone like him.

George had known her for a long time, and he'd had a crush on her for nearly two years, but he'd never thought of acting on it just because he thought she wouldn't feel the same, and it was clear now that she didn't share his feelings. She seemed so excited about the date, despite John's overprotective nature, and he couldn't help but think that he'd never be able to make her feel that way, as much as he wanted to.

"Rory bloody Storm, eh?" John asked with an angry smirk.

"John!" Connie snapped firmly, and George was certain he saw Connie flinch ever so slightly as if he was scared of her, or at least he was in that particular moment. "I turn eighteen next month, I'm not a little kid anymore, and it's not like you're my dad or my brother or whatever, you're not gonna stop me,"

"Oh really?" John cocked one of his eyebrows up daringly, though he clenched his jaw once again.

"Yep," Connie smirked, not taking her eyes off John though she could feel Paul and George watching them both intently. "My old man is good with it but he's on the night shift tonight at the station so I should be back about ten, thought you'd want to know,"

"Why's that then? I don't care," John grumbled bitterly, sitting back down and crossing his arms across his chest in a huff. 

"Yeah you do," Paul chimed in, obviously not learning his lesson from his last interruption as Connie and John both glared at him once again, despite him being right; everyone in the room knew that John would wait up all night at Paul's for Connie to come home if it meant knowing she was safe and still emotionally in-tact.

"Well whatever, I'll see you lads later," Connie, though her gaze fell onto George for a split second before looking away almost nervously as she moved towards the back door.

In truth, George wanted to be the one taking her out, even if it meant facing John's wrath. He'd gladly be the victim of John's temper if it meant he was the reason Connie was so happy and excited, but the reality was quite different. As much as he really wanted to be in Rory Storm's place that night, as much as he really wanted to fight the poor guy for asking her out, he couldn't, and part of him really admired the lad, considering he'd had the courage George had been lacking for so long to make a move.

Regardless of his stupid crush, Connie was George's best friend. As much as he wanted to be the one making her so happy, the fact she was happy was good enough for him, he decided as he forced his feelings down.

"Con?" George called as she opened the back door. She spun back around, her eyebrows creased together in surprise, though a guilty look crossed her face as soon as she saw his sad smile. "Have a good time,"

***

John had sworn that he would wait all night for Connie to come home, but as soon as it had ticked over to half ten he left Paul's in a huff to go to the pub. He might have stayed later, but it was obvious to both George and Paul that he gave up waiting just because he knew Connie would be furious at him if she thought he'd been lurking.

George, however, stayed for another hour at Paul's, the two of them playing their guitars with each other until they realised the time and the fact that if George didn't leave soon he'd miss the last bus home. After a quick goodbye, he headed out through Paul's back door, and since it was quickest way to get out on the street, he went through the gate connecting Paul and Connie's garden. As he was heading into the alleyway that lead to the street, George glanced over his shoulder on a whim, only to catch sight of Connie sat under the great cherry tree at the end of the garden, smoking a cigarette and staring up at the stars.

"Con?" George asked quietly, making her jump let out a swear of surprise.

"Jesus, George!" she scolded, though she still beckoned him over, making him forget entirely about his bus as he took his seat next to her on the tree root. "I thought it'd be John hanging round for me, the git, but I didn't expect you to wait up,"

"I wasn't waiting on purpose," George shrugged, not meeting her eye, only looking over at her when she held out her packet of cigarettes to him and he helped himself, lighting one up. "How was your big date?"

Connie bit her lip slightly, sighing out a laugh as she glanced over at him and even in the poor lighting he couldn't help but notice how pretty she looked, especially since she'd let all her hair down and it had frizzed back up. She exhaled a cloud of smoke as she thought, before looking back down to the floor.

"It was nice, Rory was very sweet," she told him, and the small smile crossing her face told him she was telling the truth. "He brought me flowers and everything, and then we just went for a drive out to Spike Island for a walk along the river. It was nice, a pretty good first date, to be honest,"

"Did you..." George began, but he didn't know if he really wanted to finish asking that particular question, but lucky for him Connie knew exactly what he was daring to ask, making her let out a laugh.

"I didn't shag him in the back seat of his car, if that's what you're asking, Georgie," she rolled her eyes, putting her cigarette out onto the path, flicking the stub into the bin. "God, what do you take me for, some common floosy?"

"No! No, of course not! I'm sorry," he rushed out a nervous apology, seeing the fiery glint in her eye, the same one that even had John wary earlier.

"I spend half my life hanging round you lads listening toy you talking about birds, but the one time I go on a date... bloody hell," Connie muttered, sighing.

"Well, if it was as good as you're making it out to be, what're you moping about out 'ere for?" George asked with a small frown.

Connie wasn't sure how to answer that, considering he was right. It had been a good date, Rory had been an absolute gentleman and they'd gotten on really well. It had been everything she'd wanted it to be, so romantic and so sweet, the way they walked arm in arm around the river, the way he'd kissed her in front of the sunset by the river. It felt like one of the stories her dad had told her about when he'd first started courting her mother after he'd been discharged from the army, the stories she grew up with that made her think love was something so special and precious, something you felt with both your head and your heart, something that was so powerful it hurt.

And whilst that kiss and that date had been nice, it didn't feel the way she thought it should. As much as her head was telling her that it was right, and that it was good, Connie's heart just didn't feel it. As much as she'd wanted to kiss Rory, it just didn't feel as magical as she wanted it to be. Maybe her head was just telling her that it was good because it was convenient, and uncomplicated. However as he'd pulled away from her for her to catch her breath, she felt disappointed because as handsome and kind as he was, he just wasn't George.

Her crush on George had been a complication on the whole night, even worse than John's protectiveness. As much as she liked Rory she'd spent four years ignoring the fact that she liked George in more than a friendly way, and it was only when she asked Rory to kiss her and he met his lips against hers that she realised it wasn't just a stupid, childish crush, and she was actually completely and utterly infatuated with him.

"I'm not moping," she shrugged eventually. "Just wanted to smoke and dad's told me to stop doing it in the house, I said it'd be ironic if a fireman's daughter started a house fire from a ciggie and he told me to stop being a smart arse,"

"Yeah, he's got a point," George said firmly, taking Connie aback. "Stop avoiding the real question, Con,"

"Well, I'm not actually moping! It was a good date, but y'know, as sweet as he was, I don't wanna settle for the first lad who asks me out, and it just didn't quite feel right," Connie told him honestly, even though she was skirting around the real truth, because even if she knew she fancied George, she wasn't ready to tell him that just yet. "Don't worry, I didn't lead him on or nothing, I said all that to him too and he was understanding, we're gonna stay mates,"

George nodded, looking down at the floor to hide the look of relief he knew was on his face, since as much as he wanted her to be happy, he wasn't sure he was ready for her to get a boyfriend. Regardless he'd support her, but he didn't know if he was prepared to see another man doing the things he'd wanted to do with her for so long. Maybe it would have been a good time to tell her that, to tell her that she wouldn't have to feel like she was settling with him, that he would do anything to make her happy, that he'd been madly smitten with her for years and was pretty sure he would be for as long as he was her best friend. Maybe it would have been a good time, but he decided against it, knowing it was selfish of him. A profession of love would be the last thing Connie would want in that moment, so instead he forced his feelings away once again, wrapping his arm around her shoulder supportively.

"George?" Connie asked quietly after a while, glancing at her watch and then back to her best friend. "I think you'll have missed the late bus, do you want to stop over?"

So that was how Connie and George spent the rest of the night sat in her living room with mugs of tea and packets of biscuits, listening to old records until the two of them fell asleep on the sofa.

***

Word count: 3744

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