Unlike when they rode to school together, there were plenty of spare seats on the bus that night, so Robin and John sat right at the back, John doing a mocking bow as he let Robin take the window seat, sitting down next to her and kicking his legs up on the seat in front of them. It was Robin's first time venturing to Liverpool town centre, and she seemed almost eager to get a window seat, watching the sights go by. Everything they passed, every street, building or statue, was so known to him it felt bizarre knowing she was seeing it all for the first time, and it all felt so new to her, so different from the streets of home that were practically ingrained into her. John watched her expressions closely, trying to read what she thought of his hometown as she kept her face clear of any overt emotions like usual, but by the time he was nudging her to tell her they had to get off, she flashed him a smile, and he couldn't help but notice that it was probably the biggest smile he'd seen her grace her face with, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. It made him want to smile back at her.

"It's not Sheff," Robin announced as the two of them got off the bus, and after she'd called a quick 'thank you' to the bus driver, she continued, "But I guess it's alright,"

"Good to know you approve, even if you're a steel city snob," John joked, elbowing her side as he slung his guitar over his shoulder, squinting slightly to read a street sign, not that he needed directions since he could walk to the Cavern blindfolded he'd been that many times. "Come on, Mathew Street's down this way,"

It felt strange to her, knowing that this new city was so well-known to him. He knew where to get off the bus, he knew the street names, and Robin couldn't help but wonder if she knew her home city so well. If he asked her for directions around Sheffield, would she be able to give them to him? Probably not, because even though she had spent many an afternoon wandering around town alone with just a sketchbook and pencil for company, she'd never committed to memory the street names. She could walk around town with her eyes closed, she knew exactly where everything was, but she couldn't name anything. She remembered things in town from how they made her feel, sentimentality giving her the directions, and as John began to lead her to a traffic light, the two of them crossing the road to what looked like a wide alley, she wondered if she would ever be like that for Liverpool. Would this place ever become so familiar to her? Would she bother this time to learn the names of things other than her flat building or address?

Surely it was worth a shot, she noted, as she looked up, realising what she thought was an alley was actually a street, marked with a sign nailed onto a red brick building reading 'Mathew Street'. It was cobbled, and looked a little rough and ready, but she immediately loved it. It felt cool, and the amount of teenagers milling about made her feel liked she'd finally pushed her way into real society, finally no longer a loner but someone who was actually a part of something.

"So, the rest of town might be a bit shit, or at least you might think it is compared to the magnificent steel city, but this is Mathew Street, and down here's the Cavern," John told her, as if he'd noticed her taking her surroundings in.

"What's this then, the epicentre of Liverpudlian youth culture?" she asked, admiring the enthusiasm in John's voice that he was trying to hide, like he didn't want her to know he actually cared about something.

"Big words, Roberta," he muttered with a small laugh, not able to fight a grin when he saw her glare at him for his use of her full name. "But yeah, only cause that's where me band plays,"

As he spoke, Robin couldn't help but smile, knowing that he took such pride in something. It was like he really loved being a part of a band, like it was a real symbol of power to him, like it gave him purpose. That was how she felt with her art, like it was something she was meant to do. For the last couple of weeks she'd seen John carry his guitar everywhere with him, but it was only now that Robin realised just what it meant to him, even if she'd not yet seen him perform.

The thought of it all brought a small smile to her face, and as she glanced over to John she saw his face plain of any overwhelming emotion, like he was so used to all of it, to the idea of his band, to Mathew Street and the Cavern, to everything, and Robin couldn't help but feel a little envious. What must it be like, to always feel as though you always belonged, always fitted in? When she looked at John and compared him to his surroundings, it looked as though he fit in perfectly, as though this was where he belonged. Even when she compared herself to her hometown, to anything in Sheffield, Robin struggled to find that sort of identification. Isolating herself had left her with no identity that tied her to a place, and as sad as that was, it also felt a little thrilling, because here was a whole new place she could make her own and define herself by.

John stopped outside a building, and even as Robin was caught up in her thoughts she noticed the queue outside what looked like a cellar door. There was nothing massively overwhelming about it, just a black door with black sign above it, wonky white paint spelling out 'The Cavern', but yet it felt like the coolest place ever. The multitude of teenagers staring at them as they approached almost made her feel nervous, like she was an outsider to this club, but yet as she stood next to John she felt unusually confident, narrowing her eyes as the girl at the front of the queue stared at her. She realised maybe the girl was staring at her because she was with John, who'd approached the door's bouncer fearlessly with his signature grin.

"Alright, I'm late so I'm just gonna cut the line go on in because what's the use in having a band on when one of them's stuck at the back of that?" John said casually to the bouncer, who didn't look particularly bothered, even as he grabbed Robin's arm and flashed him a wink. "Cheers mate, don't let any weirdos in,"

"But he let you in," Robin hissed to John, keeping her head down as she heard the girl in the front of the queue kick off at the bouncer for letting them in. "Is there not a back entrance or something, or do you just love antagonising your whole audience before you even get on stage?"

John simply shrugged, turning round to flash her a sarcastic smirk and a wink, and it was as the two of them headed down the many stairs into the basement club that Robin realised John hadn't let go of her arm. She quickly pulled herself out of his grip, trying to figure out just how many stair cases they had been down so far. It must have been at least three, and they didn't seem to end, though she could tell they were getting closer based on the smell of stale alcohol and sweat and the noise of guitars being plugged into amps and being tuned.

After the many stairs, it was almost a relief to get to the bottom, and though the main club room seemed rather dark and dingy, Robin couldn't help but be immediately amazed at it all. The whole room was pretty poorly lit, but she could make out the brick archways separating off the dancefloor from the side alleys leading to the bar, the centre of it all being the stage, a raised platform under another brick arch, the back of it painted in bright colours of varying shapes with the names of bands painted in each shape. Robin loved it, trying to hold back a grin as she slipped her leather jacket off, tying it around her waist, and though the queue outside had been massive, there were already loads of people inside, meaning Robin had to peer around several people to try and see the figures stood on stage.

"Come on, I'll introduce you to the rest of the band," John said, grabbing her arm again as he shoved his way through people, gently pulling her over towards the stage.

She recognised Stuart first of course, his hair combed into its usual quiff with a pair of sunglasses on, though he had his hands screwed into the pockets of his leather jacket as the younger lad stood next to him held what looked like a bass guitar, tuning it for him. The younger lad had his hair quiffed up too, and his focus was entirely on the bass guitar he was trying to tune, his dark eyebrows creased together as his deep-set eyes were narrowed in concentration. Robin assumed by the way the lad's fingers seemed to expertly work on the guitar that this was the George Stuart had been telling her about and at his side was Paul tuning his own guitar while he was laughing with a pretty blonde girl who was perched on the edge of the stage. Right at the back of the stage was the drum kit, and sat behind it, like he was isolated from the rest was who Robin assumed was Pete.

Stuart noticed Robin, catching her eye and nodding a hello to her, and as she and John approached the stage the others looked over to them. Robin felt the same way she did on her first day of college when Stuart introduced her to his friends, but this time was completely different as John let go of her arm, hitting her shoulder as if signalling for her to say something or introduce herself. She shot a glance to him, but before she had the chance to say anything the pretty blonde girl, who now Robin was closer to looked surprisingly like John, spoke up.

"Alright swine, who's this then?" She asked John in a strong scouse accent.

The girl looked surprisingly like John, and Robin realised they both had the same nose. She'd never seen anyone with a nose like John's before, and it was one of the things she found most attractive about him, so to see this girl standing before them with such similar features it was a little bizarre. Other than the nose, the girl had a wild mane of blonde hair, the top part of it tied back with a black ribbon, and was wearing a shirt that looked just like the one John had worn the week before along with a pair of checked trousers and a leather jacket.

Robin had always thought John wasn't one to take kindly to insult, but as the girl called him a swine he seemed to grin, leaning over to ruffle the girl's hair as she swatted him away. Despite knowing that the two were surely related given the physical similarities, Robin couldn't help but feel her heart sink in her chest at seeing the closeness of the two. It was as the girl hit John's shoulder that she looked at Robin again, and instantly shot John a look, raising her eyebrows as she remembered her last question.

"Oi, it's rude not to introduce guests," she told him, flashing Robin a smile.

"Rob, this is me bint of a cousin, Connie," John explained to Robin, gesturing at the blonde girl, trying to keep the smirk off his face as he knew his cousin would be able to see right through him and figure out his every emotion. "This is Robin, she just moved in next door and goes to art college with me,"

"Don't be a prick, I'm not a bint," Connie shot at John, and as the boy Robin assumed to be George muttered something inaudible to her with a smirk she turned around and glared at him. "Don't take his side, Harrison,"

With that, the girl turned her focus back to Robin, looking her up and down as if sizing her up, comparing her to John until she flashed a smile. It was as if Robin had earnt her approval, and even more so as she held her hand out to shake. Instantly Robin felt like Connie was a kindred spirit to her, even if she was John's cousin.

"It's nice to meet you, sorry you got lumped with him," Connie said with a grin, her gaze flicking to John who merely rolled his eyes.

"Yeah whatever, well here's the rest of the lads, there's George and Pete, you've already met Paul, and unfortunately you know Stu," John said almost dismissively, gesturing round at the other lads.

"You're nice," Stuart muttered sarcastically to John, who shot him a goofy look back.

They stood around talking a little while as they set up, John hopping on stage to tune his guitar with the others. Surprisingly, Robin didn't feel as much of an outsider as she thought she would. It almost felt nice to be stood around other teenagers, even if they were just total strangers. She wasn't always included in the conversation, but every so often Stuart would look over to her and raise his eyebrows, as if checking she was okay, which she appreciated.

After about ten minutes someone from behind the bar shouted something to them, signalling it was nearly time to start. John gave Robin a look, as if suggesting she should go off into the crowd, which had built up considerably in the time that they'd been stood around talking. The thought of standing around with people she'd never met before on her own was a little overwhelming, especially given how until a few weeks before she hated being around people for extended periods of time. That was when Connie hopped off the stage and elbowed Robin in the arm, gesturing with a nod of her head for them to go.

"Come on, you can come stand with me," she suggested. "I go stand by the bar away from everyone else, it's the best view spot,"

"Right, okay," Robin nodded before flashing a look to both John and Stuart as she added. "Good luck,"

"Yeah, break a leg," Connie grinned as she pointed at Paul. "Don't take that seriously,"

With that, the two girls headed into the crowd, and though Robin hated being around so many people a they fought through to get to the bar, she realised Connie had a point about it being the best spot. Everyone else had cleared away from the bar to get nearer the stage or to go to the side alleys to dance. It gave them a clear view of the lads on stage, and Robin watched as John squinted out towards the crowd. If someone didn't know him they'd think he was angry and confrontational, as if he was picking out which person in the crowd he was going to start a fight with. In reality he just couldn't see, but his vision must have been good enough to see his other band mates as he shot them all a look as he nodded, looking down at his guitar with a concentrated scowl.

"I know I'm biased, but they're really good," Connie told Robin with a smirk.

She might have been biased, but Robin quickly realised that she was right when John began playing his guitar and the other's followed shortly. As someone who'd spent her time locked away in her room with only records for company, Robin liked to think she knew good music, but she'd never experienced it live. For her first live performance, the Quarrymen certainly weren't bad at all.

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Word count: 2722

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