Snippet of a Silver Beetles story

[Raining Strawberry]

Heeey, I've got a bit of a story for anyone interested!

This is a segment from a story that I wrote a couple of weeks ago about the Beatles. Originally was not meant to be fetish-related, but this one part has some crying and nose-blowing. When I thought of it, it wasn't such a bit deal, but after I wrote it and re-read it, I liked it more than I expected to. I'd wanted to play with the idea of a John-George slash fic, because while I love them as a couple, from a historical viewpoint I can't quite see how they'd have ended up together... so whether or not you enjoy slash, a focal point here is John (the ass) getting to like George (the kid) better. I guess the first part is sorta from John's perspective, and the rest is George.

A few notes-- Pete and Stu were Beatles back in the old days, and the group was then called the Silver Beetles. Astrid and Klaus were friends who they made during their stay (Stu ended up marrying Astrid). Mutty was a maid (I think?) at their living quarters... it's been a while since I've read up about this though, so I don't specifically remember where they were staying. (Oh, and I have no problem with the Germans... I just figured the Beatles might be tired of them, hence git and crazy.)

Sheesh, I talk too much. Anyway, here is my story.

1960- Hamburg, Germany

Finally one night a cop met them as they stepped down from the stage. John was leading the way, but was so drunk that he didn’t notice the uniformed man who had been watching the performance until he had nearly smacked into him. He spoke good English, for a German git.

“I’d like to have a word with you.”

Ah, so someone had found out and ratted on them. Damned patrons, you’d think they’d show a bit of respect for this group who had to “mak shau” for them every bloody night. So they had a seventeen-year-old guitarist in a nightclub. It had taken the authorities long enough to notice! May as well let him stay! He’d already been corrupted in every conceivable way!

But no. The officer made clear that George would be deported the following morning. Oh well, at least they hadn’t thrown an underage drinking charge on him. That would have cost him everything he’d made in Hamburg.

-------------------------------

George stumbled back to the boys’ living quarters by himself, the shock of the news on the verge of sobering him. Pete Best and Paul had made a run for it the moment the cop turned his back, just in case he could think of something to nail them for too. John had been talking to Stu, Astrid, and Klaus. Good god, John was so drunk that George wasn’t even sure if he realized what was happening. He would have waited around for Stu and Astrid, at least, but the cop had made it quite clear that he was to leave the club immediately to avoid further unpleasantries. It was hard to say if he was sober or not or if he’d use that club of his, but George was not willing to take a chance on that steely face.

Their place was a pigsty, as usual. The beds were all strewn with twisted sheets, dirty clothes, and trash. Mutty had given up on keeping it clean weeks ago. George couldn’t even hear her grumbling; for all he knew, she had finally deserted them for good.

Still dizzy from his numerous beers, he dragged himself across the floor to his bed, not caring to step around anybody’s possessions as he went. He dropped to his knees in front of his bed, pulled off the guitar still strapped to his chest, and began to gather a heap of his belongings on the floor. Did he still have his suitcase, or had it been pawned off to some crazy German? It didn’t take long for his eyelids to begin to droop, and he leaned forward against the side of his bed to rest for a moment. His mind began to fog up; too much was happening. He lost himself in a muddled, drunken dream, full of Silver Beetles on various stages singing, intoxicated club patrons shoving each other for a better view, German cops running about—

George jerked awake some time later, now laying on the sticky wood floor. He sat up from the warm clothes surrounding him, head floating and aching. After staring at nothing for a minute, he remembered why he was there by himself.

Shit.

Had this really happened? Was he really being sent home? They had planned to be gone for a couple of weeks. Yet here they still were in Hamburg, five months later. And now he had to leave. Shit. No. It couldn’t be. George rubbed his eyes and turned his gaze back to his things. Bloody hell, he didn’t even have a place to put his things. He didn’t even want to leave.

He continued to slowly organize his clothes. Thoughts trickled into his head, picking up speed, and before long whatever dam had been holding them back burst and they flooded wildly into his brain. He was leaving. He was leaving. He was no longer a part of the Silver Beetles. He was alone. John, Paul, Pete, and Stu were gone someplace. Nobody cared. They could stay. They hadn't even walked back with him. And he had to leave. George stared at his beloved, scuffed guitar, sitting in front of him on the bed. His vision blurred with hot tears. He was leaving. He closed his eyes and allowed the tears to slide down his face. He’d only expected a couple, but a stab of pain shot through his head and they kept coming. God. He was going to be on a train, all by himself. Just him and his things. He wasn’t a Silver Beetle anymore. George sat still on the floor, head bent, pressing his hands to his face, head still aching and tears still flowing. His nose had grown stuffy and began to run. He sniffled. Fuck.

He cried quietly for a while before enough of the alcohol seemed to be washed from his system and his mind cleared enough to remind him that he needed to figure out how he was getting to the train station. He didn’t remember were it was. In addition, he hadn’t the faintest idea when the others would be returning home to sleep before the next night’s gig. He wanted to see them again before he left. As the business end of things ran through his thoughts he tried to wipe his eyes on his leather sleeve, sniffled heavily, and felt his jean pockets. Did he have a handkerchief? Shit. No, of course not. He’d become terrible at keeping up such good habits since he’d been in Hamburg. Lord only knew what had become of the last one he’d had. George rubbed his running nose on his sleeve and tried to turn his attention back to packing.

SLAM! The windows rattled, and uneven footsteps made their way toward the room. Immediately conscious of the likelihood that he looked as though he’d been crying, George hastily wiped his face off with his hands and turned to see who had come. John staggered into the room, his face as expressively unreadable as ever. He spotted his mate.

“Hey George!” he called out, half gruff and half friendly, criss-crossing the room as he approached. “Fuck, you’re packin’, eh?”

Before George could respond, John actually noticed his puffy, red eyes. “You alright, then?” He actually sounded vaguely concerned.

“Uh. Yeah.” George quickly turned his head down to face his things, but had to sniff loudly several times to keep his nose from running. His voice was sounding too congested for his own liking.

“Got a handkerchief?” John asked as he made his way to his bed and plopped heavily onto it.

“I lost it.”

“Eh, you can have this then.” He tore a clean handkerchief from his pocket and tossed it halfheartedly at George. “I don’ use it.”

“Oh. Thank you.” George reached over to retrieve it from where it had floated down onto a beer bottle. He was surprised that John even carried handkerchiefs, as he never used them. Horribly aware that John was watching him, George blew his nose loudly. When he was finished, John said, “Stu an’ Astrid’ll take you to the train station tomorrow, so y’know. I talked t’ them earlier.”

“Really?” George was relieved. At least he’d get to see them one more time. But the thought of a ride to the train station squeezed his heart painfully, and he sighed.

“Yeah.” John laid down across his bed and craned his neck to look back at George. “Aw, cheer up! Don’ worry about it, we’ll all be headin’ home soon enough.” George couldn’t tell quite how drunk John still was at this point, as he’d never once heard anyone mention any plans to leave Hamburg. He didn’t respond, and instantly seeming to forget the failed conversation starter, John continued, “keep it down, now, I’m goin’ t’ sleep.”

“Alright.”

Having given up on packing, George left his belongings in a pile to be crammed into paper bags later in the morning. He now curled up beside his guitar on his mattress, and drifted off to sleep.

[obsessed]

Ohhh, I love this! It was adorable. :]

[snuffle-bunny]

Beautiful! I love your style, and I just want to cuddle George!

[Raining Strawberry]

Aw thank you both!

I had so much fun writing this. I'm glad I've gotten to share it with somebody!

[sneezedreamer]

Gotta be honest, I'm not a huge Beatles fan (although I do like their music very much), and I never read slash, so I was a little wary of this, but I figured I'd give it a read.

I'm SO glad I did. I'm a sucker for crying guys in general, but your writing style is also beautiful. Excellent characters, excellent detail, and it just melted my heart. I loved everything about it. Thank you.

[Raining Strawberry]

Thank you so much sneezedreamer! It means a lot to hear that. I rarely get the chance to share my writing, and so I don't get to hear criticism or compliments very often.

And I know what you mean... in my life I've only seen about ten mintues of Supernatural, but I decided to take a chance on the many fics posted on the forum, and I absolutely love them. You never know what gems you're going to find.

[LovelyLinda]

Aww, I wasn't in this section for a long time,

and right now I stumbled across your story

Oh. My. God.

You know that I'm just crazy about George,

and now you wrote a realistic story with a real background!

I always loved the time the Beatles were in Hamburg,

but I'd never been there

When I'll go to Hamburg I'll shoot lots of pictures for you guys

Possibly next year in the spring.

Awwww =)

Back to your story:

It's soo fab!! Really really fab!!

I wish it'd been longer,

there are too little stories about the Beatles written,

even though there are so much books about them.

I really love George

Poor Georgie crying just melted my heart completely !!!!!

And your description of Georgie and John is just great !

I hope we may read more of you, you're a better writer than I'll ever be

[Raining Strawberry]

Yay thank you!! I'm really glad you like it. 'Specially since you are a fellow Georgie fan.

I wish it had been longer, but as I said, it was a piece of a longer story, which isn't fetish-related. But I have started a different story, this one with sneezing! Unfortunately I've got school, and am taking a fiction writing course, so I already have stories that I need to write for it. I'll work on it when I get a chance so I can post it soon!

And yeah, John and George are so much fun!! I love writing about the two of them especially because the dynamics are great. And there definitely aren't enough Beatles stories out there. So far I've only found a couple after massive Googling. You know what that means... we'll have to do some hardcore writing!

But anyway, thank you again!

[DaylightStarr]

Oh my holy God! That was so adorable. Thank you so much for sharing. I love the Silver Beetles days. Do you mind if I ask you to PM me the whole story? I always loved Stu, may he rest in peace. Did you happen to watch Backbeat? If not, you should rent it.

[Raining Strawberry]

Backbeat? Oh my gosh, I'd never heard of it, but I just looked it up, and... Thanks for the tip! I'm definitely going to have to find that somewhere!

I'd love to send you the rest of the story if you want to read it, DaylightStarr. But it's actually nowhere near being completed. I guess I wasn't too clear on that when I explained where this piece came from. I wrote a short bit in which Paul introduces John and Pete Shutton to George, John's early impressions of George, and then skipped on to the Hamburg scene, because I didn't have any other ideas at the moment. Not to mention, I wanted to write it to be as historically accurate as possible (plus my slash add-ins ), and reeeally need to brush up on my Beatles history. So, right now it's not much of a story. It just happened that the Hamburg part ended up with a more fetishy undertone than I'd intended and I thought someone on the forum might like it. It's just a work in progress for whenever I feel so inclined to write it.

But yeah, just say the word and it'll be at your online doorstep in a few short clicks. Thank you for wanting to read it!!!

[LovelyLinda]

you don't know backbeat?

uhh!!

You have to watch it, it's so great.

And it's so true...I felt so sorry for poor Stu,

I always loved him

He's so adorable!!

By the way, three days ago was the day when Stu passed away

I watched backbeat online, if you want me to I'll look for the link and post it here for you.

There are a few german scenes in it *cheer*

If you don't understand, I'll translate^^

Love,

Linda

[Raining Strawberry]

I don't know how I'd never heard of it! Hrmm, I guess I read a ton about the Beatles but not about their influence on modern pop culture. At any rate, I'm looking forward to seeing it. I'll check the local library and YouTube.

How much German did the Beatles speak? I imagine they knew enough to get by, since they lived in Hamburg for a while. And since they managed to record "I Wanna Hold Your Hand" and "She Loves You" in German.

Poor Stu... I don't know much about him, but he always came off to me like a really great guy. Yoko Ono once said that John absolutely loved him, and would mention something about him every day. And I recently read an article about an exhibit with his art... it's speculated that, if he hadn't died, he could have been one of today's most popular artists, since he was talented and had been a member of the Beatles. Tragic beyond words. I'm really glad that at least he got a part in the Anthology, though, since he kept a journal.

[Ryn]

Yaaay! I LOVE GEORGE!

THANK YOU!!!!!