I've Just Seen A Face

When I got to my apartment door, I heard my phone ringing. I quickly flipped to my house key and unlocked the door. I swung it shut, once inside and picked up the phone just in time.
“Hello?” I answered, setting my keys down on my desk.
“Olivia, where were you today?” Brittany asked me. I sat down in the chair by my desk I looked at the clock. It was already 5:45pm.
“I was out with the Monkees and then I went over to The Beatles. Why?”
“You went with the Monkees and then The Beatles? How did Davy feel about that?”
“Um, it doesn’t really matter. I’m not with him anymore…” I said awaiting Brittany’s response.
“What?! You and Davy aren’t together anymore?! What happened?!” she said reacting just the way I expected.
“It’s a long story, but to make it short, I decided to try things with George.”
“So are you with George now?”
“Yeah,” There was silence on the other line. I wondered what was going through Brittany’s head.
“Wow,” she finally said, “So… wow, I can’t believe this. I mean, you and Davy, you were the couple…”
“Yeah I know, but I really think we needed a break. Plus, I really like George.” Again nothing was heard on the other line, so I decided to tell her about the tour.
“Speaking of George now, um, I’m going on tour with them, and we leave tomorrow afternoon.” I said hesitantly.
“You’re leaving?!” She said shocked.
“Yeah, me and George didn’t want to leave each other right away, so we figured I’d just come with them. It’s only 3 weeks and-”
“Three weeks! Olivia, our career is just starting to blossom! You can’t just decide to leave for 3 weeks! You’re our lead singer!”
“I know, but I bet nothing will happen. If people thought we was so good, don’t you think we would’ve heard something by now? I mean we’re not in the paper or anything. It will be fine. Plus, it’s just this one tour. I won’t be going on all of them.” I said.
“Whatever you want to do I guess. But if we get any calls while your away, I will seriously kick your ass! Understand!?” I smiled. Just what I expected from Brittany.
“Yes, Brittany. I understand.”
“So, about this whole ‘you and George’ thing…”
“What about it?”
“I don’t know. It’s just so weird.” She said.
“I know, but I’m actually kinda excited about it.”
“Yeah…hey, I thought you liked Paul.” She said. Why did she have to bring him up. I know I was going to be spending the next 3 weeks with him (which I could tell was not going to be easy), but I didn’t need to start thinking about him already.
“Ah, yeah I know. I do, I mean, I did. I guess the thing that attracted me to George is the fact that he’s more like me, plus, I kinda need to get away from the whole ‘messing around’ type.”
“Yeah, that’s true. You’d definitely shouldn’t try Paul then.” She said laughing. I knew that too. That’s what frustrated me about him. Or I guess I was more frustrated because despite that, I still felt so strongly for him. He’s worse then Davy, and I didn’t need that anymore. I needed someone who will want me when they’re with me, not get sick of me and go off with other girls, and then when they’ve cured their boredom come back to me. Which is exactly the type of guy Paul was.
“Well, I should probably start packing.” I said, “Will you tell the other girls for me?”
“Yeah sure.” She said, “You know, I’m kinda jealous of you. Hell, I am jealous of you. You get to spend three weeks with The Beatles! On tour! You get to run around with them, go to their concerts and parties, and stay in a hotel with them, jeez… the Monkee tours are nothing like that.”
“I know, I can’t wait till we leave. However, I am kinda scared. Some of those fans are scary and bitter. What if they tear me to pieces just cuz I’m with a Beatles?” I said beginning to scare myself.
“Oh don’t worry about it. You’ll probably have hundreds of police around you guys.” She assured me. I hope she was right. “Well, Micky’s here so I have to go. I hope you have fun, and well, good luck with George I guess.”
“Thanks, I’ll talk to you later,” I said. We said goodbye and I hung up the phone. I walked over to my closet and picked out a bunch of clothes for the trip. I gathered all my toiletries as well. By the time I was done packing it was 7pm. Now I was beginning to get hungry. I went into my kitchen and opened the fridge. I shriveled my nose in disgust as I looked at the choices of food I had. I really needed to go grocery shopping. I settled on a bagel with cream cheese and milk. I changed into comfortable pjs and watched Dirty Dancing. After it was over I curled up in bed and fell asleep.


At 11:30am the next morning I was ready, and rearing to go. I couldn’t stand the wait. I didn’t know whether or not I was supposed to go over to the hotel or if George was going to call me. It didn’t really matter though, because George ended up calling at 12pm. I headed on over to the hotel and when I got there, Tony placed my bags into the van. George and the other Beatles came out to greet me and get into the limo. George gave me a good morning kiss and told me how excited he was for this. I told him I agreed. We drove to the airport and got aboard our plane. I was in a seat next to Paul and George. Go figure. Paul was by the window, and George was by the aisle. The flight was going to last about 8 hours and in about an hour Paul was sound asleep. Reporters continually tried to snap photos of him until finally he woke up,
“I’m trying to bloody sleep, do you mind?” he said clearly annoyed. The annoying reporter got the hint and left him alone for the rest of the flight.
“Paul gets edgy about his sleep you know,” George whispered in my ear after the incident.
“I can tell,” I said amused. I fell asleep my self and before we knew it we were in Kansas City. I’ve never been here before, so after George woke me up to tell me we where almost there, I tried to lean across Paul (trying desperately not to wake him up) and look out the window as we landed. After the plane landed we were all rushed into the building with hundreds of fans screaming and trying to chase after us. The guards surrounded us and didn’t leave our sides until we got into the car to drive to our hotel. As I got in I continued to look out the window as fans began running towards the car. Some chased the car for miles, but never caught up.
“Wow,” I said to myself. George just smiled. We got to the hotel, which by the way was incredible. It was so nice that I felt completely out of place. I thought after getting to the hotel things would be better, but there was a huge group of fans here too. We worked our way through to the doors. Paul stopped to give a few screaming girls his autograph. I smiled. He probably made the rest of those poor girls lives worth while. Just because now they can tell everyone, ‘I got Paul McCartney’s autograph!’. We made it inside and to our rooms with all body parts attached. Once we rested for a few minutes and set our bags down we decided to go grab something to eat. We ended up going to a nice little restaurant, (I don’t recall what it was called) and ate. When we got home we were all pooped and decided to go to bed. This particular hotel didn’t know that there was going to be an extra person, so I ended up sleeping with George. Nothing happened. We were way too tired, so we just zonked out. Brian made the arrangements for the future hotels so that I would get my own room (although I did end up sneaking into George’s room a few times for various reasons).
The next day was filled with chaos. The Beatles, Mal, Neil, and Brian were running around getting ready for interviews, press conferences, and the concert that night. I stayed at the hotel that day, watching TV and shopping around downtown until 6:30 rolled around and Tony picked me up for the concert. It was funny really. Here I was, at their concert again except this time backstage practically right next to them, when not even a week ago I was head over heels excited just to see them. After the concert there was a party as usual. I didn’t however stay the whole time. I began to get sick of all the high and drunk people and decided I would head off to bed. George offered to accompany me, but I convinced him to stay. After all, it was partly his party. This daily routine went on for the next 2 weeks, getting one day off, to which we all slept in till 3pm and just lounged around the room. The next night after the concert there wasn’t really a party. It was just John, Paul, George and I. There might’ve been a few other people there, but if there was they didn’t stay long. For some odd reason, we ended up watching Figure Skating. John and Paul were high by this time and did nothing but make fun of it.
“Why the hell do people watch this shit,” John said taking a drag of his joint.
“I have no bloody idea. But the guys look like pansies,” Paul said giggling. John began to giggle as well and they did this for about the next 10 minutes. I looked over to George lying on the bed. He had fallen asleep. Great, now I was stuck here practically by my self with the two high guys.
“All ya do is twirl around like a ballerina,” John said, “I just don’t get it.”
“Neither do I.” Paul said. After a few minutes Paul ended up repeating himself, which brought them to giggling again. I gave them a funny look.
“What?” Paul asked sitting next to me.
“Nothing,”
“No, what? Why are you looking at us funny?” he asked.
“I don’t know, maybe cuz you guys are high and acting stupid.” I said. He began to giggle. I got up and grabbed the Beatle book sitting on the desk and began to look at it. Paul leaned quite close to me and looked at it along with me. Every once and a while I heard a giggle out of him for no apparent reason. Towards the end of the book, I noticed that for the last few pages, Paul had been staring at me. Finally I turned to face him.
“What?” I asked. He continued to stare.
“Paul, what are you looking at me for?” he was stunned.
“Can’t I look at you?” he asked somewhat seductively. I swallowed. What was he trying to do?
“Um, yeah I guess, but you’re looking at me weird.”
“No I’m not. I’m just amazed at how stunningly beautiful you are.” I looked away for a second. Why was he doing this? Nevermind, I know the answer. He was high.
“Do you want to know what I was going to tell you a while back?” he asked. This brought my attention back to him. I nodded.
“What?” I asked very curious and extremely glad he was finally going to tell me.
“I was going to tell you," he hesitated for just a moment, "that I think I like you. And not just as a friend. I really like you Olivia. I have from the first time I saw you.” I was speechless. Was he serious? If he was why couldn't he have just said this when he was going to before?? That would have settled everything! Don't get me wrong, I was completely attracted to George and he was such a nice guy, but, not to sound like a broken record or anything, Paul was the one that I REALLY wanted, and felt like I needed. The only reason I didn't is because I really didn't think there was a chance that he could feel the same thing about me, and of course the little problem of his flirting habits. But he could change right? Still stunned, and Paul still looking at me I looked over at John who was obviously in his own little world, and George, he was still sleeping. I looked back at Paul, who was still looking at me with those big brown eyes. Gosh, he was hot.
“Paul I-” I didn’t get to finish my sentence because Paul’s mouth was suddenly on mine; tongue and all. I know I shouldn’t have, but I kissed back, tongue and all. I couldn’t help it. This is what I longed for since I realized my feelings for him. Actually I longed for this since I was a fan. I just hoped this wasn’t some high horny thing. After a few minutes, he pulled away. I slowly opened my eyes to see he smiling at me.
“Damn, you’re a good kisser,” he said, “I can’t believe I didn’t just kiss you all those times I wanted to before.” He’s been wanting to kiss me?? I didn’t know what else to do so I smiled and said,
“You’re a good kisser too,” Bad idea Olivia. He lifted his eyebrows in interest.
“Really? How good?” he asked, “on a scale from 1 to 10.” Immediately I thought, 100, but I wasn’t going to say that.
“Um, like an 8.” I said casually. He looked disappointed.
“Only an 8?! Well, let’s see if we can change that…” he said and once again leaned over to kiss me. This time he had his hand on my leg moving upwards, and his kiss was a little more aggressive. Now it was like 1000. Although I tasted the previous joint in his mouth, his kiss was too good that I hardly noticed. I wished so much that I had the self-control to push him away. This was so wrong. I’m with George now, and it’s only been a little over three weeks. But Paul was like gravity to me. Whenever I was around him, this force kept pulling me towards him and no matter how hard I tried, it wouldn’t go away. So when he goes and does something like this, it was mission impossible. This kiss lasted a little longer, but eventually he pulled away keeping his hand on my leg.
“Still an 8?” he asked.
“Um, more like a 12,” I said opening my eyes.
“That’s better,” he replied.
“Paul what the hell are you doing?” We turned our heads to see George very much awake staring at us. Paul didn’t reply.
“I asked you a question. What the hell are you doing?” George repeated. Paul removed his hand from my leg and tried to answer but nothing came out. John began giggling again. George looked over at him and realized that the both of them were very high.
“This better be because you’re horny and high, because if it’s not, I’ll kick your arse.” George said. Paul just sat there and nodded. George turned to look at me.
“And for you, a 12?” he asked.
“George, it doesn’t mean anything. Just because his kiss was good doesn’t mean I like him. Plus, I thought I’d humor him by making it above average since this was all obviously under the influence of drugs.” I said. This answer seemed to satisfy George. I figured he’d only been awake for the kiss and didn’t hear any of what Paul had said before hand, otherwise this would’ve gone farther then it did. I got up and went over by George. We decided it was time for bed so I followed George out of the room. I couldn’t help but look back at Paul. He was looking at me. He smiled, and whether I wanted to or not, or should’ve for that matter, I smiled back. I turned towards George’s back and left the room. The next week was hectic and I was glad to finally be going home. The Beatles had another tour to go on, but I decided to stay back for this one and aim for the next. They didn’t blame me. I found out that no one had called for our band, and I wasn’t surprised. Those weeks without George were hell. I missed him so much. I hung out with Brittany, Emily, and Sara a lot of the time, but not so much The Monkees. It was still a little awkward. Although all I really thought about was George, the whole incident with Paul kept it’s spot in the back of my mind, (yet not far enough for me to forget), the whole few weeks they were gone. We never really talked about that after he was sober, so it wasn’t totally resolved. I had no idea if it was the drugs talking or if that was seriously what he was going to tell me. Half of me hoped it was the drugs, but the other half begged it wasn’t.

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