Monday, December 15, 2008

Chapter One: The Fab WHO?!?!

'HIDE YOU LOVE AWAY' IS RATED R FOR LANGUAGE AND SEXUAL CONTENT.
READ WITH CAUTION. :]
Chapter One: The Fab WHO?!?!
"Brian hadn't talked of anything but this group for months."

Brian burst into my house one day in a whirlwind of excitement. His cheeks were red, his eyes were bright, and his poor posh lungs were gasping for air. His flustered state reminded me of the day he came to tell me that EMI was thinking of signing me to their record label. Knowing better this time, I rushed to get him a chair and a glass of water so that he didn't collapse on my kitchen floor. He thanked me, and then waited for his breath to return to normal before he spoke.
He grinned the widest Brian smile I had ever seen. "You'll never guess what's happened!"

I smirked at him, playing along. "Judy Garland special on TV t'night?"

Brian laughed like a maniac. "Oh, you," he said, giving my shoulder a slight punch.

I stared down at my Eppitized right arm. This had to be big news for two reasons: A.) Because Brian never laughed. I didn't think he had the ability to. Chuckle, sure, but an actual laugh.... Reason B.) punching my arm? 'Oh you'? Yeah..um..what the hell?

"Alright Bri," I sighed, turning back to him. "You got me. What's the big surprise?"

He cleared his throat, returning to the normal Brian I knew and disrespected. "Well," he began, his eyes sparkling like a little boy's. "Do you remember how I told you about the other group I've been managing? You know, The Beatles?"

I nodded. Of course I remembered. Brian hadn't talked of anything but this group for months. Although I couldn't really blame him. If I were managing the band I'd probably brag about them too.

Brian had gone to see The Beatles back in '61 when they were playing in a club called the Cavern. Brian was struck by their musical abilities and made the quick decision to sign them. Now I'm not sure of all the dirty details, but I do know that Bri signed them to EMI and had bought them all nice grey suits or whatever, to make them seem like gentlemen instead of Elvis wannabes. According to legend they were suppose to have funny hair as well, but I wasn't really aware of much else as far as their looks were concerned. Brian had given me a copy of their first (and only) album a few weeks previous to this day. I had listened to it a few times, and musically it was very good. But I couldn't tell anything about their appearances from the album cover. The picture was taken from far away. It was of the four of them looking over a stairwell and on the side the title read: Please Please Me. I liked it, the double word thing. Whoever had thought of that was pretty clever.

Oh yeah that was another thing. I had no clue as to which Beatle was which. Hell, I didn't even know their names! I was pretty sure one of them had to do with jewellery, but I wasn't placing any bets. And there was another one whose name started with a "G" sound. Was it Greg? Or maybe Geoff...

ANYWAY, back to the story.

Brian was trying so hard to lock in his glee, that his cheeks were turning red.

"C'mon Bri," I reasoned. "Just tell me before y' hurt yourself."

"Alright." He exhaled and then flashed another smile. "You are going to tour with the Beatles!"

Now I don't know how you'd respond to that, but based on the simple fact that you are reading this, my guess is that you would run around your house screaming and biting pillows and tearing out your hair and what not. But because I really didn't know these boys at all and because I happened to be in a really bum mood that day, my sarcastic response was:

"Yay. Wahoo. Alert the media."

But there were no dampening Brian's spirits. He smiled even wider (if that was possible). "I already did! The tickets are sold out all over the U.K!"

I nodded, realizing that he was too happy to upset. "Y' could've told me about it."

Brian smirked. "You could've asked me about it."

"...Touche."

He chuckled the usual Brian chuckle. "Besides, don't you think a nice time away from home will bring you out of this wonderful mood you've been in for the past few weeks?" He eyed me suspiciously.

I sighed. I wasn't always like this you know. I know that you're looking at your computer thinking 'Ugh. Great. Now I've gotta read this story about a queen bitch.' But it wasn't entirely my fault. You see, about two months ago I got married to a photographer named James. I'd been seeing him for three years or so, and he thought that was long enough. So we got married.

Marriage, however, wasn't everything I hoped it would be. James was always bouncing from one country to the next to photograph people and places all over the world, and I was either recording or touring or planning a tour or thinking about recording, so I wasn't around as well. And on the off chance that we were actually in the same room together, we didn't really act like a married couple. It was like the honeymoon was the end of our romantic life. I hadn't bargained for that. I had always thought that marriage was the key to happiness. Yeah, how stupid was I, huh?

But it wasn't right to take this out on poor Brian. He was so thrilled about his two musical gems coming together. "Oh please Rachel," he suddenly began to beg. "I've talked to Mike and Neil, and they're fine with it. And the boys can't wait to meet you. And it'll be wonderful publicity! For you and for them." He stared me down with those persuasive black eyes of his. "Please?"

I wonder sometimes what would've happened to me had I said no. But I find it very boring to dwell on the 'shoulda' 'coulda' 'woulda's. If you didn't do something, then you just didn't do it. But if you did....Well, just keep reading.

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I was desperate on information on these Beatles. I didn't want to look like a total idiot in front of them. I played Please Please Me at least a hundred times, picking out a few tracks that I decided were my favorites. 'I Saw Her Standing There' was great and energetic, something you could move to. The vocals on Arthur Alexander's 'Anna' was hauntingly beautiful. It demonstrated pain and sorrow in its true form. And I loved the talented harmonica playing on 'Love Me Do' and 'Please Please Me', their big hits at the time. But every song was good in its own special way. The songwriting especially. They showed amazing abilities at the very beginning of their career.

I knew all this, yet I knew none of the shallow details. Who was who? Who sang what? What did they bloody look like? I was fortunate enough to have many teenybopper cousins who could name every pop star in the business. I had them come over one day, along with my little sister, to help explain to me the phenomenon that was the Beatles.

So what did I find out? Almost too much. I learnt names, birth dates, favorite colors, and quirky facts like the lead guitar player's father use to drive a bus and the bass player was rumored to have the ability to sleep with his eyes open. And of course there was the fact that every Beatle fan knew: John was the Smart One, Paul was the Cute One, George was the Quiet One, and Ringo was the Sad One. The girls didn't bring any pictures with them, so I would have to wait until the tour to see these mysterious boys.

"One last thing," the tallest cousin said as she was walking out the door. "If you sleep with any of them, we want every. Single. Detail."

Oh great. Leave it to the kids to think of me as some kind of whore.

The day finally came: May 18th. I was able to say goodbye to James before I headed off, and he left for a photo shoot. I kissed him, and then asked playfully, "Aren't you mad jealous that I'm going t' be spending more than two months with four boys, all in their early twenties?"

"Not at all," he responded without a hint of fun or teasing in his voice. "I know you'll behave." he smooched my forehead and set out.

I frowned. James wasn't the best person to joke with. He was a wet blanket for Christ's sake.
Brian showed up in his polished Zephyr Zodiac moments later. He wasn't going to get out of the car because of the crazy fans outside my door. Nope, transportation was my job.

I took my luggage and opened the door. The people screamed and I put on my picture perfect smile. The one in the magazines. I pushed through the crowds as best I could. I was jostled a bit, but considering the other frenzies I had been through, this wasn't too bad.

Inside the car already were my backup musicians. I recognized them from previous tours. Poor guys. I knew they were going to miss all the fun. The backups were always put in a separate hotel suite, a different plane, etc. from the stars. I chatted with them as much as I could. They seemed like nice blokes.

But internally I was jittering in anticipation. What were these Beatles like? Were they funny? Charming? Bratty? Spoiled? Would we get along? Would we hate each other? Would they have any significance in my life at all?

As you can see, I had no clue about what the future had in store for me.