Beatles Imagines (Slow Uploads) [Temporarily Discontinued]

"Come on, lets get out of here"

This is the first Paul I've written in a while.

I have been dating Paul McCartney for about three months now. Yeah that's about right. Just over three months. Yet after all this time, the press hasn't even figured it out. We're pretty good at just acting like friends whenever we rarely go out in public. It's normally to lunch. If we ever want date nights, we have to order and take it somewhere else, where no people reside. As far as anyone is concerned, I just work for George Martin. As long as I'm not being harassed by anyone, I'm fine with this situation.

I do occasionally get the mean look from a girl when I'm out to lunch with Paul. For a "business meeting" or whatever excuse Paul comes up with for these. The press usually thinks we're out to talk about albums, or something like that. Business. There's the occasional reporter who comes up and asks about a hidden relationship, but Paul plays it all off so casually and talks his way out of everything. It's pretty impressive. "They don't need to know about our personal life." Paul always tells me. Which is very true. He's been questioned several times during interviews, but again, he can talk his way out of anything.
The only people who know are my colleagues and the Beatles of course.

Paul and I sat on the steps of the recording studio, just talking. It was a relatively warm day, way hotter inside than outside. But we couldn't leave the door open while recording. So we had taken a break for however long Martin decided. This overt unity to let everyone cool down.

I could see a group of about 6 girls as I was staring out. Paul was talking about a song he was working on, I was half listening as I watched the girls. They were kinda looking back every couple seconds, one at a time. Squinting and tilting their heads to see if they were actually seeing Paul McCartney. That's when John came outside.

"Martin told me to tell you that he's giving us like 20 more minutes of break. Especially since George and Ringo aren't back yet."

"Alright. Thanks John." I smiled up at him before his disappeared back into the building. At this point I knew the girls knew that this was actually sitting on the steps with some girl. That's where the dirty looks came in. Why was I alone with Paul? They were slowly making their way over. I wasn't bothered in the slightest by them. They were very bothered by me.

"Hi, Paul McCartney?" One of them asked. She looked exited.

"Hello." Paul smiled at them, calm and happy to see his fans. He had to see the side eyed glares I was getting right?

"Oh my gosh can we get an autograph?" A different girl asked him.

He chuckled, the chuckle I heard too often. The chuckle only used in public. "Of corse." They all squealed. God the squeaky squeal of their voices got old pretty fast.

"You know your really cute Mr McCarney." The first girl told him. She was very forward with her flirting. She let out a giggle. You know the giggle. The fake giggle let out when flirting. She was blushing ever so slightly. And I must admit she was very pretty.

"Thank you muchly." He smiled, giving her the paper with the signature. She fake giggled again. I just kinda rolled my eyes.

The girls all crowded him. I wasn't that bothered by the attention being given to Paul because it happened too often for me to care. It was the glares I was getting and the smirks I was receiving. Daggers being shot from their eyes.

I just stood up and walked back inside, feeling their eyes on me as I left. I let out a hefty sigh of annoyance as I sat down in a chair.

"What's up?" John asked me, looking concerned. He sat down in a chair across from me.

"Clingy girls staring daggers at me while attempting to show their claim on Paul." I sighed again. A little annoyed that it was getting to me. "They know what they're doing."

"So you left?" John looked confused.

"I'm not dating him as far as they know. I'm just competition for them."

"Well go out there and say you need him for something important."

"Hey you're pretty smart Lennon."

"What can I say." He laughed. And with that I walked back outside. I didn't even look at the girls, who hadn't let up. A very uncomfortable looking Paul stood beside them.

"Hey Paul?" I looked at him attempting to look like what I had to say was important. "John needs you for something."

"Awe what does he need him for?" The girl asked me, her hands resting on one of his shoulders.

"I have no idea, I was just told to get Paul." I told her stiffly.

"Well then, I better see what he wants." He slipped himself out of the grasp of the other girls and walked up to the door. The girls for some strange reason took this as a que to follow him. As Paul disappeared inside I stood in front of the entrance way.

"Sorry, no outside persons allowed in here without permission." I gave them a fake smile. They just looked at me, very coldly.

"Well Paul said we could come in." The girl who wouldn't stop hitting on Paul pipped up.

"Did he now?"

"Yeah," she got a little more snarky. "So you can just let us in."

"Well as a staff member with a higher power than Paul, I can deny this access." I wasn't technically lying. I could deny access to anyone. We just typically didn't allow anyone to come in in general unless it was direct relation to anyone who played/worked within the building.

But of course they weren't going to let up. "I seriously doubt you have power over Paul." I just looked at her. My expression not changing. "Now Paul said we could go in, so let us in."

"Is there a problem here?" Paul asked coming up from behind me. His arm brushed my back ever so slightly.

"Apparently we can't come in." One of the girls said as they all put on their masks of disappointment.

"I told them they couldn't come in. And they argued you invited them and that it's your, and their, word over mine." I told him calmly.

"I never said they could come in." He looked at them.

"Didn't you?" Flirty asked, trying to look innocent.

"Alright, shows over." I gave them a fake smile. "Now I'm going to ask you to kindly get off of this property." My fake smile plaster on my face. Fake pity. They didn't move.

"Come on y/n," Paul said from behind me, "Let's get out of here. Let's just leave them." I reached for the door and closed it. They were going to be there all day. Thankfully there's a back door.