July 1964

"I still can't get over the fact that when I was in your house you introduced me to Paul McCartney as 'my old neighbour'," Ruby remarked to Connie as the two of them sat across from each other in the New Times office.

Connie let out a small laugh, though she didn't look up from her typewriter. She was far too determined to get her article finished so she could go home early, since she needed to get ready for that night. She tapped at the keys, trying to keep focused on her article about the new album A Hard Day's Night, but that failed as she heard the office radio begin to play the titular song from that album. She let out a quiet curse, banging her hand against her desk as she pushed her chair away.

"For god's sake," she muttered. "It's bad enough I was there when they wrote it but now the bloody thing is following me around!"

"Most girls would give anything to trade places with you," Ruby reminded her, making Connie roll her eyes, letting out another groan.

"I know, I know," she sighed, adjusting her chair so she was back in front of the typewriter, running her hands through her hair, which had now grown well past her shoulder blades. "I'm just being dramatic, it's a bloody good song, but I guess I'm just nervous too,"

A few months ago, Connie would have struggled to confess her true feelings whilst at work, but in the months since the Beatles moved to London and she opened her flat up to two new residents, things had gotten better. Ringo and George were dream housemates, they kept things tidy and were great company for whenever they weren't at the studio, and they often came home with John and Paul, which meant they'd had many nights sat up talking and drinking, almost like how it was back home. Ringo's girlfriend Maureen was also often down in London to visit which Connie appreciated too because as much as she loved the lads it was nice for a female presence every so often.

Surprisingly though, Connie had managed to maintain her privacy. She took great care to not be seen around the boys and so whilst she was often recognised as 'that writer from the New Times', she was never recognised as George Harrison's girlfriend, even though they'd been courting properly for nearly five months. It was a miracle really, but it was a miracle that would soon expire, due to that night being the premiere for the Beatles' first film, A Hard Days Night. George had asked Connie to accompany him, and as Brian hadn't opposed to the boys taking their girls along to an event, Connie couldn't really say no, even if the prospect of being surrounded by press and fangirls was intimidating.

It was ironic really that Connie was scared of the press given the fact that she was a journalist herself, but she'd seen the way that the paparazzi had hounded her boyfriend and mates in the last few months and it scared her. The Beatles seemed to have this power that they commanded that made everyone want a piece of them, and Connie was terrified of the way that even the littlest things made it to the headlines, even the matter of the women they dated. Rumours had been invented about Paul and his girlfriend Jane getting married in every paper which were all ridiculous, but it seemed to be the band's fangirls that took more offence to the women in 'their boys' lives. Connie remembered seeing a press reel filmed on set of their film where one of the girls asked John why he had to get married, and Cynthia had told her all about how even in Liverpool she and Maureen had been harassed by the fans. Jane had it bad too, and the three other Beatles women had told Connie all about how lucky she was that she wasn't yet out as George's partner.

That, obviously, wasn't going to last much longer. As a teenager Connie never found herself caring over people's opinions. If someone didn't like her, she'd just punch them and move on, but now she was twenty two and had a career and George's repuatation to think about, things were not that simple. If people didn't like her now, if the press decided she was a weak addition to the group's inner circle or if the fangirls inevitably found her unworthy of 'their' George, things would become very difficult. She knew people would be overly invested in George's relationship, given he was the only one remaining single in the band, seen as the batchelor quiet Beatle, and so she just wanted to make a good impression.

Of course she'd not told George any of this, but she'd vented to Ringo anxiously the night before, after George had gone to bed early and the two of them were left up watching the news. Ringo had merely laughed, telling her not to worry so much, but she could tell that he didn't really mean what he was saying. Once upon a time Ringo had told her 'who cares' regarding who she dated, but that was back when she was seventeen, when she wasn't dating one quarter of the biggest band in the world. And it was truly the world now, as in the last five months of them dating the band had ony grown and grown until Beatlemania was practically worldwide domination. That only seemed to add pressure to Connie, but it was pressure that Ringo refused to acknowledge.

"Just relax, Con, it'll all be fine," Ringo had attempted to reassure her. "What's the worst that can happen?"

"Everyone decides I'm not good enough, the press gang up on me, the fans mob me daily, work decide it's not worth the hassle of having the much hated Beatle girl work for them and so they fire me, all the while the whole thing is displayed on the front of every newspaper around the country for my dad to read whilst he's at home in Liverpool," she spoke quickly, pacing around her living room, and when she finished talking she glanced over to Ringo sat on the sofa, trying to hold back a laugh. "Don't you dare laugh at me, Richard,"

"You're overthinking it all, Con, just be yourself," Ringo continued, pausing as he thought over his own words. "Well, just don't hit anyone. Our northern charm won over the world I'm sure it'll do the same for you,"

She just wanted the evening to go smoothly, to make the best impression possible. She knew Ringo was right, that she was overthinking it all, and so she tried to carry on with her work, tapping away at her typewriter as she instead tried to think about how exciting the evening would be. A film was a big deal, and she remembered the days when she, George, John and Paul rushed to the cinemas to see all the Elvis films. They'd all been thrilled to see their hero on the big screen, and now it was going to be the lads' turn. She was so proud of them all, and despite all the nerves she couldn't wait to see the film.

She'd visited set a few times, and each visit had left Connie quite surprised. She never knew any of them could really act, and was shocked at how natural all the dialogue and scenes had felt, as if none of them were acting at all and it was just their everyday lives occurring in front of a camera. The energy of a film set and a studio was thrilling, and left Connie feeling as if she wanted more of it, to be the sort of person who worked on a set rather than an office. Not that it mattered though, she was happy in her job at the New Times, especially now Henry wasn't around to bother her.

With that, she finished off what she was typing, hitting the full stop key with a sense of finality, sitting back in her chair as she took the paper out of the typewriter. With a small sigh, she slid it over to Ruby's side of the desk before getting up with a stretch, grabbing her coat from the back of her chair.

"Will you hand that into the editors? I need to get off," she asked, watching as Ruby began to read through her work.

"This is good," she nodded in approval. "You write like you know them,"

"Well I do know them," Connie pointed out.

"I know, I know, but it seems really... open, like they're everyone's neighbours," Ruby explained, before her face fell slightly. "When it comes out tonight though, about you and George, Mr Hill might not want you writing about the Beatles anymore. He might think you're mixing business and your personal life,"

"Be reyt," Connie shrugged as she pulled on her coat, letting out a snort of a laugh at Ruby's confusion to her regional dialect. "It'll be fine. Brian Epstein likes me writing on the boys, but if I can't anymore because I'm with George I'll just have to suggest a replacement. Now I'm off, I'll see you tomorrow but I might be in a little late, John said he was determined to get me drunk at the after party,"

"Enjoy, and good luck, Con!" Ruby called excitedly, waving as  Connie made her way out of the office.

***

"I think people have caught onto the idea that we've got a bird living with us," Ringo announced in place of a greeting as he and George came into the flat, seeing Connie in their living room laid out on the sofa with a pile of books, where she had been since she got home an hour before.

That had become their routine whenever Connie was home earlier than the lads. They didn't bother with 'hello's' anymore, just greeting each other with whatever big piece of news they thought was a perfect conversation starter, and usually that news seemed to revolve around the never-ending and ever-growing mob of fans the Beatles had accumulated. It was a subject Connie didn't enjoy though, because as proud as she was, she didn't like the fact that the boys now seemed to be restricted in their lives. Their homes were their only refuge usually, though clearly not anymore, given Ringo's announcement.

"One of the fans who followed us back from the studio asked as we were coming into the building who you were, said she saw us all leaving for work together this morning," he continued, going over to the sofa and collapsing into a sitting position, helping himself to the new issue of the New Times that Connie had left on the coffee table.

"Yes because the thought of being watched really does put me at ease in my own home," she rolled her eyes, getting up and moving to hug George, her boyfriend wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her forehead. "Besides, I don't live with you two, you two live with me,"

"'Ey, we all pay equal rent, this is our place now too," George pointed out teasingly, laughing as Connie scowled. "Though maybe if the fans have found us we should probably look into moving to another place, one with more privacy,"

"One with thicker walls," Ringo called, not looking up from the magazine to see the bright shade of scarlet Connie turned.

It had been something the three of them had been discussing already though, moving out and finding a new place to live, somewhere with more privacy. The flat was in central London, and though that was great as it gave them easy access to the studio and to the New Times office, it also gave the fans easy access, and often there was a crowd surrounding the entrance to their building. So far Connie had managed to get away with pretending she lived in another flat, just a neighbour to the two Beatles rather than their flatmate, but as soon as she was pictured with George and labelled as his girlfriend, things would get a lot more hectic. Though she loved her flat, she loved her freedom and privacy more.

She had probably also outgrown the place anyway, given her new roommates. The three of them had already silently decided that even if they left their current place they'd carry on living together until circumstances changed, and so they would need a much bigger place. It was manageable, but it often felt a little crowded, especially when Paul and John visited. Connie had plenty of savings she'd put away and the boys were making good money, so they could easily move, it would just be hard finding somewhere that was just as good.

"Doesn't matter anyway, not right now," Connie shook her head, deciding they should just focus on enjoying the night rather than worry about their living situation. "What time we getting picked up for this premiere?"

"Couple of hours," George shrugged, checking his watch before flashing a grin at Connie. "You want me to come help you get ready?"

"No, you'll distract me," she smirked back at him, leaning up and kissing his cheek though she quickly pulled away as the two of them heard an exasperated sigh from their flatmate. "What?"

"Just letting you know I'm still here, in the communal space and not your room," Ringo spoke up, sounding bored as he looked at the couple.

"Don't be dramatic," Connie rolled her eyes again, pulling out of George's hold, much to his dismay. "I'm going to go and get ready,"

With that, she left the two men behind, heading off to her room, though it wasn't just her's anymore. Before George moved in it used to be so organised, with her books neatly set out on their case, her wardrobe organised perfectly and her dressing table perfectly in order. Everything was tidy, but maybe it was just so tidy because she had nothing else to do but make sure her space was organised. Now she actually had friends in London, and she had a boyfriend who was constantly around her whenever she was home, things were less ordered. Obviously George had moved his stuff into her room, and so she had half the space she once had, not that she cared. To think about not living with George, not falling asleep and waking up next to him, was painful, and so it was a worthy trade to have less space and organisation.

Though half of her wardrobe was now taken up with George's suits and shirts, hanging proudly at the front of her section was the dress she'd picked out for the night, one that neither of her flatmates had seen. She'd been out shopping with the other Beatles girls for her outfit, and as someone who'd never really felt comfortable in dresses she was still surprised at what she had picked out, even as she got it out of the wardrobe, laying it down onto the bed carefully. It had been Jane who'd spotted it, telling Connie how nice it would look on her, and she was right, because even Connie, someone who was rarely bothered by fashion, loved it. It was deep blue crushed velvet, falling to her ankles but with a slit running up the left side of the dress by her leg, right up to her thigh. It was high necked, thankfully given the amount of love-bites George had marked on her, but without any sleeves, and as soon as it was on Connie couldn't help but love the way she looked, twirling in front of the mirror.

Rarely did Connie ever wear heels, but she'd seen a pair of silver ones in the shop by the dress and they went perfectly, the colour matching her locket, and so she slipped them on, suddenly feeling so much taller, feeling added confidence from the extra inches of height. Once she was done getting dressed, she turned her attention to her face, deciding to apply minimal makeup except for some eyeliner and mascara. All day she'd kept her hair tied up in a bun since she'd not had the time to straighten it before work, and as she let it down she was instantly reminded of how wild her hair had once been as a teenager when it was a frizzy uncontrollable mess. Some days it had resembled a lion's mane, but on that occasion it looked almost nice, having intense volume from being tied up all day. She was happy with it, shaking her locks out slightly, and as she moved to look at herself fully in the long mirror she didn't have long to check her appearance, not as she spotted the reflection of George, leaning in the doorway, watching her with a proud smirk.

"It's rude to stare," she shot at him, not looking at him as she instead focused on pulling the collar up slightly to cover one of the red marks higher up her neck.

"You look beautiful," George said simply, and she glanced over to him with a small smile to see he was still staring, admiration in his eyes.

"So do you," she grinned, noticing he'd changed suit, and with a small smirk George came further into the room, spinning around for her to look at the suit properly.

It was a new one, Brian must have treated the boys to new suits for the premiere, ever the generous manager, and this one suited George very well, even with the untied bow tie hanging around the shirt collar. Connie gestured for him to come closer with the intention of tying it for him, but as he crossed the room and she moved her hands up to the tie, he misread her signals, instead taking hold of her face in both of his hands, pushing a loving kiss onto her lips.

There had been many kisses between the two of them since they'd begun courting, but the gesture hadn't lost the thrill or the fireworks that made the fist one special. She was still in a state of disbelief that George was hers to kiss whenever she wanted after so long. Being with George was like learning a whole other side to herself that had always been there, a side that she had never allowed to show. For so long she'd had feelings of lust and love for George, and it was only after being with him properly as his girlfriend did she realise just how suffocating it had been to pretend those feelings were nothing, as if they were never there. Sometimes she thought just how freeing it felt to be George's girlfriend, to allow herself to love him with her whole heart rather than just love him in a way she thought was acceptable as his friend. Loving George made her feel whole, and she couldn't help but hope he felt the same.

Even so, then wasn't the time for kissing, so she gently placed her hand on his chest, nudging him away as she laughed, only to see his expression of confusion an disappointment.

"I was trying to do your bow tie, lover boy," she explained teasingly, laughing through her grin especially as George scowled at the nickname.

"Don't call me that, you sound like John when you call me that," he muttered, watching Connie's face carefully as she concentrated on doing his tie, her eyebrows furrowed. "Ringo told me you were nervous for tonight,"

"That traitor," she hissed under her breath, remembering how she'd asked Ringo not to tell George about her nerves. She didn't meet George's eye, even as she finished up his tie and took a step back, not until George took hold of her chin, making her look at him as he raised his eyebrow questioningly at her. "I just... I've worked really hard to try and fit in down south, and I feel like I've only just started to do that, but I don't want to expose myself to the press as your girlfriend and for it all to go to shit again. I don't want the press to hate me and I don't want your fans to hate me either, it just seems like-"

"Con, I love you," he told her firmly, taking hold of both of her arms as he kissed her forehead gently. She sighed, placing her hands on his waist. "Doesn't matter what everyone else thinks,"

As he spoke, one of his hands moved up to her neck, his fingers adjusting the collar of her dress as he pulled out the chain of her locket. He gently moved the necklace to rest on top of the velvet of the high collar, the locket displayed proudly for everyone to see as if it was a declaration of his love for her. Connie leant over, kissing George's cheek, knowing that as scared as she was, at least he was there for her.

"Plus if any of the press or fans abuse you we'll just set John on them," George joked, and Connie sighed out a laugh as she thought about her over-protective cousin. "I think it's nearly time we got going,"

***

The screams seemed to surround them as soon as they stepped out of the car. Involuntarily Connie flinched at the shouts from both the press and the fans surrounding the red carpet leading into the cinema, but she tried not to appear nervous, giving George's hand a squeeze as she intertwined her fingers with his, her boyfriend watching her cautiously with a reassuring smile. It was almost like he couldn't hear the hundreds of people calling out his name, the only person mattering to him being the woman he classed as the love of his life.

No one was calling out Connie's name though, since she was the enigmatic new woman. She could hear people shouting questions to George about who she was, but there was no time to respond to any of them, not as George took the lead and the two of them quickly made their way inside the cinema. Connie didn't realise until she was inside, where the screams were still deafening, that she'd been holding her breath. She exhaled slowly, squeezing George's hand again, but she still didn't properly relax, not as a journalist made a beeline over to them both.

"Hi, George, just a quick few questions before the rest of the band get here," the reporter said in place of a proper introduction, making Connie feel as though she was invisible until his eyes fell onto her. "Obviously everyone's excited for the film but I can't help but think that you've left everyone wondering just who this lady is that you've brought with you,"

"This is me girl," George responded casually though he flashed a grin to Connie.

"I'm Connie," she spoke up for herself before George had time to introduce her, something that clearly had the reporter baffled, especially as she held out her hand for him to shake. "Connie Lennon,"

"Oh, well, lovely to meet you," he responded, though still taken aback given her surname. "Are you looking forward to seeing your partner and your brother on the big screen?"

"John's me cousin not me brother," she corrected with a small laugh and a roll of her eyes. "And nah, not really, I see them all everyday so it's nothing special, I mean I spent five years living next door to Paul so it's a miracle when I don't see him,"

"Speak of the devil," George muttered lowly to Connie, and she looked over to the entrance to the cinema to see both John and Paul, the two of them followed by Cynthia and Jane.

At the appearance of the two other Beatles the reporter quickly turned his back on both George and Connie, the two of them sighing with relief. Connie turned to George, taking hold of his other hand as she noticed the rather proud smirk on his face as he looked at her. She frowned, cocking up one of her eyebrows as she wondered just why he looked so happy.

"What's up with you, Georgie?" she asked, fighting off a curious smirk.

"I like seeing you be cocky with people," he said with a shrug. "Reminds me of that fearless scouser I fell in love with,"

She grinned, letting out a small laugh of happiness and she began to lean over to kiss George, except he was one step ahead, his hand on the small of her back, pulling her in closer as he pushed a kiss against her lips. She placed her hands on his waist, and though it was just a gesture of affection she heard an exasperated groan come from behind her. The two of them quickly pulled away from each other and Connie sun round to see her cousin and old neighbour, the two of them pulling fake-disgusted expressions.

"Ignore 'em, you know what they're bloody like," Connie muttered rolling her eyes again, and if they hadn't have been surrounded by press she would've stuck her middle fingers up at them both. Instead though, she turned her focus back onto George, grinning at him as she took hold of his hand once more. "I love you,"

And she did, more than anything.

***

Word count: 4242

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