The Hurricanes

The Hurricanes

The other day I was thinking about Ringo before The Beatles, when he was with Rory Storm and The Hurricanes, and started writing this. Its not accurate, Rory and Ringo were actually really good friends and The Beatles and Ringo didnt really hand around when they were in Hamburg, didnt even come into contact since they werent there at the same time. But other than that its alright.
P.S. it switched POV with every chapter! and dont you just frickin LOVE that picture of Ringo?!!?!?!? <3super cute

Chapter 1

Today IS The Day

"Paul look!" John shouted in his friends ear as they leaned out the van window.
"Shut yer trap John!" Mal yelled, yanking the leather clad boy back in the window.
"But its Hamburg Mal! We're men!" The boy protested, hitting his drivers arm playfully.
Mal only scoffed and continued to drive, ignoring the bright neon of the city.
"John!" Stu yelled, pushing his glasses further up his nose and pulling John to another window pointing to a neon sign offering up a strip club.
John laughed, "Looks like ye know where to find us!"
The boys laughed. Five teens finally finding themselves at home in a foreign city, leather clad, guitars strapped to them and drum sticks hanging out of pockets awkwardly.
Mal pulled up behind a bleak grey building hiding away from the neon and helped the gangly crew grab their guitars and Pete's drum set, dragging it into their tight living quarters.
"Sh/t!" Paul cursed as Stu hit him in the chest with his bass case and knocked the air out of him.
"Sorry mate." Stu appologized and tucked his guitar onto a top bunk, John automatically flopping onto the bottom one.
"Mal!" John yelled from his bed, watching Paul and Pete drag a drugged George to a cot in the corner. "Christ its small in 'ere!"
"Sorry its no five star hotel Lennon but-"
"This them?" A man in a suit asked scanning over the group of discombobulated teens with distaste.
"Yeah, this is them." Mal smiled proudly, clapping a hand on John's shoulder as the boy joined the midst of the men.
John narrowed his chocolate eyes at the man who looked back at him with a pained smiled forcing its way across his lips.
"How old are they?" He asked strapping his hands into his pockets.
Everyone exchanged glances quickly and Pauls eyes lingered on George who looked pathetically car sick and green.
"Eighteen." John said as Paul began to open his mouth.
The man nodded and left. The four boys jumped around, clapping hands to backs in congradulations and hugging Mal, nearly knocking each other to the ground.
"First show tonight be ready boys-"
"Men Mal. Men." John corrected.
Mal rolled his eyes and left them to get ready.
John and Stu stood at their microphones waiting for an introduction. But there was none.
"We're The Beatles." Johns scratchy voice echoed, Paul jumped.
"Jitter bug Macca." George teased.
They hit each others arms jokingly, leading to shoving and leading to throwing into walls then John jumped in and spat strings of acid and curses at them. Stu pulling them apart and Pete rolling his eyes from behind his drums. Blood was splattered to the make shift stage floor as Paul and John wrestled across the stage and George wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow behind the safety of Stu. His savior.
"That'll Be The Day."
"In Spite Of All The Danger."
"Long Tall Sally."
"20 Flight Rock."
"Take Good Care Of My Baby."
"Good night..." John sighed, bushed.
The five crawled back to their bunks, sweating and ready to sleep. This was not what they expected.

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