| To Be Desired Chapter 3 I'd rather be anything but ordinary in this crazy, mixed up world After what seemed like 20 minutes (it was really about two and a half hours) Brian, Neil, and Mal walked in right in the middle of me explaining CD's. "All right, Boys" Brian said surveying the room. �Time to get ready for the conference� He added. They all groaned. �Don�t you like doing press conferences?� I asked. �We would if they didn�t ask the same bloody questions every time. It�s right boring� Paul replied standing up. �I love watching your press conferences� I said standing with them. �They�re funny� I added. They all went to grab their jackets and came back rather quickly. �Uh, Do you think I could come watch, Brian?� I asked him hoping. �Sure, But you have to stay with Neil and I� He replied smiling. I liked Brian, he wasn�t as I expected him to be. �Thank You� I squealed. I was going to be watching a press conference a genuine Beatles press conference. Not recorded on TV, but live!!! HaHa wicked! We all walked down into the lobby of the hotel. There were millions of reporters there! Well, maybe not millions but a lot! The Beatles took their seats and the third degree began. They mentioned John�s Jesus Christ Statement. That was right! I forgot they were being badgered in the media by it. I looked around the room, that�s when I noticed all the female reporters. All wearing miniskirts and beehive hairdo�s. I looked down at myself. I was wearing a small black shirt, tight denim jeans with bleach creases in the thighs, and black DVS shoes. My hair was medium length, brown with natural gold highlights, layered, down, no hairspray and teasing in an era where that was the most stylish thing. Light eye shadow, mascara, and lip gloss where false lashes and dramatic eye shadow were a must. I looked different. Haha I like it! Being different is fun! Especially when people look at you weird. HaHa. I had that bumper sticker on my car: �Normal People Scare Me�. I (and everyone else) thought of myself as weird. Not like weird looking, I look like all normal high school girls (well in 2002). It was the way I act I guess. I don�t care what other people think...in fact I pride myself in being thought of as different. I am a complete smart ass and extremely opinionated. I say weird things �I do what the cheerios tell me� and Laugh A LOT! I love making other people laugh and make a joke out of everything. I quote my favourite movies like no tomorrow. I hate it when people are sad or mad so if they are I try to cheer them up, But then again I love to argue, and most the time I win which is even more fun. �All right, come on� Neil broke into my thoughts. I hadn�t even noticed, Brian was on stage thanking them all and the Beatles were getting up to leave. I followed Neil to the door and we waited for them to join us. We all walked back to the room in silence. Once in the room everyone draped themselves on the couches and chairs around the room. I sat on the floor next to the couch. Paul looked over at me sitting on the floor staring into space. �Luv, You want to sit up here?� He asked from his position, sprawled on the couch. �Not really� I said. �Thanks anyway� I added lying my back on the floor and bringing my knees up. �So, John� I started. �Did they bother you about the Jesus statement again?� I asked looking up at the ceiling. �You were there� He said. �Yeah, I know I was there� I said �I wasn�t really paying acute attention, sorry� I added. �Oh, Well of course they did, even after I apologized and everything, I thought that would have helped� He said sighing. �I don�t think you should have had to apologize in the first place� I said tearing my gaze from the ceiling to look at John, he was looking at me. �Why?� He asked not really asking...if that makes any sense. �Cos You didn�t say anything wrong. It was just your opinion; everyone�s entitled to their opinion.� I said. �Exactly� Paul said. I looked to him. �Just cos your a Beatle doesn�t take that away� I added. �Plus, they made a big thing out of nothing, What you said was right anyway and it didn�t really mean what they thought it meant� I explained. �If like Paul, or someone else said it, It might have meant what they thought it did but since you said it, it didn�t really mean that� I went on, looking at John. �Uh thanks� He said slowly. I laughed �It�s not a bad thing� I said. He nodded slowly. I yawned. �Tired?� Paul asked. I nodded. I looked at my watch with the Eiffel tower on it. It said 11:25 but I dunno if times changed or whatever. �It must be jet lag...or something� I said getting up. �Uh, Where�s my room?� I asked walking towards my bags. �It�s next to mine� Paul said getting up. �And If I knew where your room was, that would help a lot.� I said picking up my largest case. He smiled. �I�ll have to show you then� He moved to take my case from me. �I�ll take that� he said carrying it and my other case. �Thanks� I said following him with my purse. �No Problem� He replied straining his voice like they were extremely heavy. I laughed. �Wimp� I added hiding it in a cough. He looked at me. I smiled sweetly and opened the door for him. He set them down next to my bed. �Thanks� I said again. �Anytime� He said. I smiled at him. He was sooo cute. �Goodnight� He said as he reached the door. �Goodnight� I replied. �Goodnight, Guys� I said Raising my voice for the rest of them to hear me. I heard a chorus of �Goodnight, Sarah� �s from the other room as Paul shut the door. I undressed and got into bed. I lay there thinking about what just happened. I was in 1966... I was in the Beatles hotel room... Paul McCartney said Goodnight to ME! I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle the giddy squeal. Chapter 4 Home This is copyrighted by Sarah Lucey 2002 and can not be reproduced in any way without permission. Permission may be obtained by Email. |
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