I'm With the Beatles

You Can't Do That

The car came to a swift halt in front of a small building. The guys hopped out, with Paul helping me. Murray gave an excited clap and patted John's back.

"This is going to be so much fun," he gushed.

"Okay?" John concluded, looking at Murray with the most annoyed expression.

"Now, they strictly enforced that only us five would be allowed to come in. So, the little girly will have to stay in the waiting area."

"That's fine," I sarcastically piped up.

"I hate that they would do that, but we have to listen to their soppy rules..." Paul mentioned.

We all walked through the glass door and marveled at all of the pictures that graced the wall. They were mostly of musicians posing with the owner of the place, obviously. I could just envision a new photo taking the empty spot next to the entrance.

"I guess you can just sit there and read those books," Murray explained while pointing at a padded, green chair.

I sighed my aggravation and plopped down, dust escaping from underneath me. The book that he was talking about was, for some reason, a medical journal. I flipped through the first few pages and already was bored to death.

"We shouldn't be long. You'll be okay, little girl."

"It's Lizzie..." Paul growled under his breath.

Murray the K didn't hear him, but instead was trying to listen to the conversation going on behind the office door. Seconds later, he twisted the knob with much force and exposed the inside of the room. I briefly saw an older man, dressed in a sort of business suit, frantically searching through a pile of papers.

"Come in, come in," the man bellowed with a rush. Murray pushed the four to greet the man. Ringo and John grunted with anger and George attempted to push Murray for the fun of it. Paul gave me a quick wink before the door closed off our connection.

I diverted my attention back to the journal. It described the works of the human body and had a couple of pictures. Thinking back to the new millenium, I couldn't help but laugh at the pettiness of the book. There were a lot more things to find out that the world hasn't yet. I sat there for about ten minutes, listening to the muffled voices from the other side of the wall. All of a sudden, the bell above the front door rang with excitement. A tall, slim strawberry-blonde made her way down the wooden hall and stopped for a second to gaze at the photos. She finally noticed me and came over.

"Hello," she greeted with a warm smile. She held out her right hand for a shake.

"Hi?" I replied with question. I wrapped my hand around hers.

"I'm Jane... And you are?"

"Lizzie."

I was beginning to feel a little bit awkward as she tried to strike up a conversation. It usually was hard for me to respect those who already emitted a bad vibe. She had one and I didn't know why.

"...And that's how I got into the modeling and acting business," she exclaimed with giddiness.

"That sounds nice," I tried. Ugh, the journal seemed more interesting at that point.

"So... Why are you sitting here alone?"

Seriously? After this whole talk about your life story, you ask me why I am here! Hmm...

"Oh, I'm with the Beatles," I answered, motioning towards the office door.

"You know the Beatles?!"

"Yeah..."

"That's exciting! I know them very well myself," she informed. She tightened the elastic around her straight hair.

"Oh, really?"

She nodded with content. Soon, a black limo pulled beside the glass door and emitted an ear-splitting honk.

"Oops! I'm late for my appointment! Nice to meet you, Lizzie."