A/N: Based on a daydream that I had yesterday. The beginning actually happened by the way (: I was reading A Beatle For My Valentine by LilyEyes777. It's really funny, I fell off my bed laughing XD
Disclaimer: I don't own Britney Spears, Cheap Trick, or Green Day. And certainly not those four Liverpudlian lads that I am so infatuated with. Someday, evil disclaimer, I will prove you wrong. You just wait 'til I build my time machine -evil laugh-
I'm Only Sleeping by BeatleLOVE
Eyes wide open in shock, I glance around my room, hoping no one was there to observe my clumsiness. Oh thank god no one's home. Not that anyone'd have been suprised if they were here to see that. I quickly pick myself and my phone up off the floor where we had recently fallen, thanks to LilyEyes777 for writing another hilarious Beatle fic. I eye my Beatle posters suspiciously. You didn't see anthing.
Even though no one's there to see me, I can feel my cheeks heat up. Oops, I did it again, I grin to myself. Feeling exceedingly stupid now, I carefully seat myself on my futon, making sure not to hit my head on the bed above it. I'd done that way too many times already. I can't help if I'm a klutz, I just seem to attract embarassing moments wherever I go..
Crap, now where'd I put that damned phone? Oh... I'm sitting on it. I happily post a review stating how funny that particular story was. I wonder...does she think I'm a stalker? I kinda review on every. Single. Thing... Nah, I shake my head. I give good feedback.
Review posted. Please allow up to 1 hour to be visible.
Why does it take that damn long to post a bloody review and half an hour to post an entire story?
I check my story for any new reviews. None? Aw damn, I posted four bloomin' chapters yesterday! FOUR! My rant echoes through my head.
Jesus, Amanda, chill out. Stupid me, always right. It's only been a day! Give the people some bloody time to breathe! It's not like they constantly check it; Hell, you're your number one stalker!
I can't argue with that. When I'm not writing, drawing or playing music (or a mixture of the three), I'm on FaceBook and FanFiction. Wow, I need a life...
Thing is, it's pretty hard to have a life when the only best friend that actually lives close to you hates your favourite band and is probably too busy snogging her newest boy-toy to take any notice of you. Plus, the other two are too far away. Sadness. So much for getting by with a little help from my friends.
I sigh, utterly bored now seeing as no one has bothered to post anything new and I've written almost four more new chapters today. What a sad existence.
Giving up on I deas, I lazily throw myself onto the piano bench. C'mon Amanda, you can do this. Take it slow. The parts are easy. My dingers stumble over the keys, and my pathetic attempt to play McCartney's Lady Madonna sounds horrific.
"OMIGOD! Why can't I get that right!" I scream in frustration, hands thrown in the air. "That's it; I'm through, I'm done, I surrender!"
Mommy's all right, Daddy's all right; They just seem a little weird. Surrender, surrender, But don't give yourself away-ey-eyy-eyyyy!
Facepalm. I'm such an idiot. Oh no, no, n- aw, damn. American Idiot now rns through my brain. Screw my easily manipulated mind..
I can't concentrate with two songs stuck in my head. "Oh, screw it.." I turn to turn off my keyboard, but to my suprise it already is. That's odd. I swear I didn't...whatever. I snatch up my phone again and go directly to YouTube. Soon George Harrison's awesome voice fills my ears with my angry song. Don't come around, leave me alone, don't bother me..
Suddenly, the music stops. Goddamn stupid lag; Stopping my so-
My thought is interrupted by the quiet mumbling coming from my bed.
"Do ya think she can hear us?"
"I dunno, she hasn't turned around."
"Maybe she's deaf!"
"No, ye bloody fool. If she was then why d'ya think there's instruments in here?"
"Well, maybe she's recently deaf."
"Oh, who gives a damn. Either way, why don't we find out the, ey?"
A hand lands on my shoulder and I scream out in terror. My arms flailing wildly definitely dosen't help with my balance issues, and I topple off the piano bench, falling on my arse for the sencond time that hour.
"Well, we know she can talk now, don' we?" A smug face grins at me. A very smug, very familiar face. My eyes widen.
"Uh, um, ah.." I stutter. There is no way this is happening.
"Whassa matter, doll? Ye were pretty noisly a moment ago, now what's happened?"
I can't take it anymore. "HOLYFREAKINGCRAP YOU'RE JOHN LENNON!" I blurt out. "I mean, ah, um, crap.."
"Why yes. Yes I am."
I look past him and examine each of the three faces on the futon. No. Fricken. Way!
"Look wacha did now, John. Ye scared the poor bird outta her wits." Omigod, is that James Paul McCartney! I feel like I'm gonna die. This is way too much.
'Ye okay, love?" A concerned-looking George Harrison kneels over me. I'm starting to feel pretty dizzy. Don't faint, don't faint, do-
I open my eyes. That had to have been one of the trippiest dreams ever. See? I was dreaming. I'm even on my bed.
"Looks like the bird's awake." Omigod, no way.
"Well, that didn't take too long." A puppy-eyed face looms over me.
What the fu- "Ringo Starr.." I whisper in disbelief.
"Ey, she know's me name!: He grins delightedly, making himself look even more like a puppy. An adorable one.
"I wonder if she knows mine." Two large hazel eyes come into view. "Ello, love."
"Omigo-omigo-OMIFREAKINGGOD!" I'm totally dreaming. "You're Paul McCartney!"
He pulls away with a satisfied smirk. "Well, that answers me question, dosen't it?"
George hesitantly comes near me again. "Now don't swoon over me again, 'kay love?"
Holy crap. George, Paul, John and Ringo! All alive? Together? AND young!
"I-I gotta be dreaming.." I repeated for the millionth time.
"'Fraid not, love. We're as real as can be." John shrugs, "How we got here, I don't know. Ye could say we just kinda popped in."
Wait, no phsycadellic swirly colors? No sacraficial ring from Help!? No spiked food? And it's definitely not a dream? What the hell is going on! I have to be bloody mental.
"Ya gotta be kidding me, right?" I look from face to adorable face. Each one stared at me blankly. "This isn't real.."
"Gear room ya got here." Paul states, examining my stuff. "Real futuristic. Like the posters best."
I can't help but grin. "Of course."
"Now what's that supposed t'mean?" Ringo looks at me suspiciously.
"Nothing! I was just teasin'!" I put on my best innocent face and prayed they'd buy it.
"Hm, seems fiesty if ya ask me," John winks. Well, no one did, did they Lennon? Hmph, and no stealing Paulie's wink!
Despite all the smart remarks I came up with, I blush. "Well, at least we know I'm not anglophobic.."
Ringo tilts his head in question. "Anglawhat?"
Gliggling, I explain. "It means fear of Englishmen."
"Now who'd fear us?" John bats his eylashes rapidly.
"Me. No not all of you!" I quickly reassure them. "Just John." Said Beatle cocks an eyebrow at me.
"What? You can be pretty damn scary at times, Lennon."
"She has a point." I hear George whisper.
"Well since when did you get all smart? What happened to this bein' a dream, eh?"
"Well, if it is then I might as well enjoy it. And that includes poking fun at you."
"Hmph. Yer lucky I'm a gentleman, or else you'd be cryin'."
I try resisting a laugh, to no avail. "John Lennon? A gentleman? Wow, this really is a dream."
His already thin eyes narrow even further. "Now ya better watch yerself, miss. Ya don't know what I can do."
"Ooh, I'm completely terrified of a figment of my imagination. Real threatening."
"Ya seemed pretty terrified before." He countered.
"Well you caught me by suprise."
"Oh, ye don't want me to catch ya by suprise again, or I'll-"
"Wow, ya really know how to get on his nerves, dontcha?" George teases, interrupting whatever John's threat was.
John sits back down on the bench grumpily. "Stupid bird. No one talks t'me like that."
"Well maybe someone should." I mutter. Paul chuckles. This day just got a whole lot better.
A/N: Sadly, I probably would faint if that happened. And why do i always piss off John? I don't know, but it's really fun..
Since I've started writing, I've become somewhat of a review whore (: Whomever reviews gets to virtually hug Ringo! He's cuddly (;