|September 18, 1964|
Angie
My life was a series of days that never seemed to have an end. I lived in a perpetual twilight in this home for abandoned children. Although I do admit it could be worse. I could live in Blackpool, where the children panhandle on the streets.
Being an orphan, well, sucked.
I've been one since I was about 5, 8 years of having no parents can really do a number on someone.
"No adoptions from here. But I've heard that Patrick got adopted from the boys' orphanage." A girl, a bit older than me, Poppy said to me as we sat together in the common room.
"A family is all we've been praying for." I murmured softly, picturing the ideal family I've always dreamt of inside my head.
A mother with light hair and a father that was tall and protective, one who wouldn't abandon me or my mother in our hour of need. I'm sure there were plenty children of my age who had it worse than me, but I've been lonely for so long.
It almost felt like I appeared on this earth all by myself, with no family I could ever return to.
Ringo
I blew smoke from my mouth in feathery tendrils, pulling the ciggie to my mouth once more for the sweet welcoming taste of nicotine.
I lowkey wished it was a joint I was lighting up instead, but Brian, our manager, couldn't know of my bad habit. So a ciggie would have to satiate my cravings for now, until I made it back to the flat where George and I could roll a fat one.
John lay sprawled out on the studio floor, his limbs entangled with the several cords that connected the guitars to the amps. I could see the gears turning behind his eyes, switching and planning, like he always was.
"Ringo!" He suddenly said, causing the heads of both Paul and George to snap up to look at me in wonder.
"What, John?" I asked, sounding more irritated than I really was.
"I can see you jonesing for some grass. I know where ya can score some." John said with a devilish grin and I tossed some of my cigarette ashes at the bloke.
"Come off it, John." I barked back, not feeling up to banting with Lennon.
"Only if you do." He chided and Paul laughed out loud at John's sly remark, and George only cracked an almost unnoticeable smirk, as if he was going to chime in.
Brian came barreling in at that very moment, his face red and a rolled up newspaper in his hand, as he waved the print around wildly, I suddenly became anxious. Why did I feel that we did something wrong?
"Ah! Goodday Eppy!" John and Paul cheered, and Brian snarled at the two, unfolding the newspaper and reading the bolded title.
"Beatles Blaze with Bob! The audacity of you four!" Slamming down the newspaper with rage, Brian wasn't having it. I cringed at the sight of the photograph.
It was obvious that John and I had joints hanging out of our mouths, while Paul and George stumbled about with Bob Dylan. How could we refuse such a man of such caliber?
John haughtily laughed, breaking the tense silence that surrounded us.
"That's the worst of it?"
Brian growled at John, his face red and his jaw taut.
"After all that we went through to get you lot this far, and yer telling me yer willing to piss it all away?!" Brian shouted, and John shrugged as Brian shifted his gaze to me.
"I think you should be very concerned, Ringo! Try to care!" Brian screamed as a very threatening vein from his forehead bulged.
I didn't dare back talk him, unlike tenacious John or Paul. George was all the wiser too, he had slunk back so far into the wall that his face was shrouded in a dark shadow and only his fingers on his guitar were visible.
"Listen to me, you four! I have a plan, and it's going to rid the media of all of your horse shit."
"And what might that be, Eppy?" Paul jibed, riling up Brian even further.
"Ya guys are gonna adopt a child."
"What the fuck?" I blurt, George and Paul leaning in, John banging his head on a mic stand.
"It's gonna make you lads appear more responsible, as well as mature and stable. Think of it as an instant makeover on yer ledger."
"That's awesome, give us a goddamn child and we'll increase our responsibility tenfold." Paul said sarcastically, and George remained silent beside him. That's wise.
"D'ya honestly believe that the parents of your fans condone this behavior? Not to mention the media, yer social rank will be shredded to bits of chum before the end of the week. Unless we act fast. Adopting a child will not only boost morale but prove yer willingness to accept adulthood. It'll be temporary, only for two years or so. Lads, just please go with it. We've come so far after all of our toiling to be where we are today. Don't just fuck it all." Brian desperately pleaded, significantly calmer than he was before.
The man had a decent point. Adopting a kid for a while couldn't hurt, and plus it would give me and the lads more practice for when we do decide to have kids. Including John, it'll help him out with Julian. Not only would it get vultures off our arses, it would keep them a good arms length away. We would also be providing the kid a good home and four fatherly figures, how horrible could it actually be?
"I'm in." I said, watching Brian's face light up.
"Alright, fantastic then. 'Cause you lot have an appointment at the orphanage to pick him or her out, tomorrow." John's jaw fell slack and I choked on my breath.
"For fucks sake, Brian!" John yapped, clearly irate over the whole premise of the situation.
I rolled my eyes but agreed with the band leader, it was all too much for one sitting.
"Oh pipe down John. Maybe it'll straighten us out." George said quietly.
"By straightening out, maybe you mean going into a dry spell for the next several years!" John cried out, and Paul snickered, much to my disgust.
"This is a goddamn child, John! Have a little heart!" I chided and he scoffed.
"I'd rather be ousted than to give up my grass."
Tomorrow
Third Person
The day began with a bitter note, but none of the four lads had muttered anything to remark the feeling. Although George didn't want to admit it in front of his bandmates, he was thrilled to bring a child into their lives. He'd always had a soft spot for young children, always having a paternal nature about him that the other Beatles couldn't discern.
Once they all arrived at the Saint Sebastian's Home for Lost Children, George was the first to exit the car and enter he building with a bubbling excitement. Children were the most delightful sources of joy and love, and not to mention inspiration (which they all seemed to lack these days).
The woman at the front desk nearly spat out her tea once she saw the Beatles approach the desk, and she quickly adjusted her cat eye glasses and composed herself.
"Good morning, how can I help you fellows?"
The four exchanged glances of apprehension before Ringo spoke up, clearing his throat.
"Uh yeah, we'd like to make an adoption, today if that's possible."
The woman stared at them with a shocked expression, barely managing to keep it all together.
"Oh! Alright, um, here's a catalog of photographs of all the children with a short biography. All of our children are wonderful here at Saint Sebastian's and would be thrilled to be apart of your... family."
The woman handed Ringo a medium sized file and the lads crowded around it as the drummer opened the file to a black and white Polaroid of a young girl, with long waves of dark hair and light eyes. As if they could see the pain and her troubles through the photograph, the four musicians fell for the girl immediately, something inside of them falling into place.
Sensing this connection, Ringo read the girl's information.
"Angelina Franco, 13 years old, orphaned at the age of five when mother disappears and father goes to prison for war crimes and 2 counts of murder. Sensitive to female authority figures." Ringo read aloud, and John, Paul, and George all looked at the drummer with an assured glance.
"Her."
Angie
We shared rooms, the other girl my age that were deemed the same 'lost status'. I was one of the lucky ones, only sharing the four poster bed room with only 5 other girls around my age. But others weren't so lucky. Some were confined to small spaces with 12 other girls to share it with. I guess it was that way because they were the younger ones, too young and afraid to put up much of a fight.
But the girls I roomed with were older than me, 15 to 17. Almost aged out of the system, they fought for this room. They fought for me.
Sitting on my bunk, I flipped through Pride and Prejudice for the millionth time, being gentle with it's worn out cover and thinning pages. Poppy, who was one of the girls I bunked with, came rushing into the room with a black bag and a large smile.
My eyes widened, I assumed she was being adopted.
"Oh my, Poppy! This is wonderful news!" I cheered, and she handed the black bag to me.
"Not for me, silly! You! Yer being adopted by the Beatles! Haven't you heard? They're here right now!"
The breath in my lungs seemed to disappear with a wisp, and my whole world froze. Me? I'm getting adopted by the Beatles? My face growing hot I fanned it with the black bag and began to cry profusely.
The white hot tears of joy rolled down my cheeks as I jumped to my feet, throwing my minimal possessions around wildly into the black bag.
"Yer serious? No foolin'?" I asked Poppy with a trembling lip and she steadied my shoulders and nodded.
"No jokes or nothing. Now get out there, they're waitin'!" Not being needed to be told twice, I quickly grabbed poppy into a hug and raced out the door with out even grabbing my toothbrush.
My PF flyers squealed as they made sudden contact with a slippery part of the stairwell leading down, causing me to tumble down a few steps, than regaining my balance as soon as I caught sight of them.
The four mopped heads all looked up to peer at me with awestruck gazes, George (my favourite), even gave me a tilted smile, and my heart thumped in joy.
I finally reached the four musicians after what felt like an eternity of stairs between us, and the social worker, Danielle, came between us and began to speak.
"Boys, this is Angelina Franco-"
"Angie." I murmured in a small cough and John snickered, and I blushed at his response.
"Your new daughter." The words reverberated in my chest with some sort of magic, refusing to let me forget.
I stared at them with warbling eyes, and Ringo introduced himself first.
"Hiya, Angie, 'm Richard. Most me mates call me Ringo." He awkwardly stuck out his hand and I shook it firmly, which caught him off guard a smidge. Ringo ruffled some of my hair gently, but endearingly, and I smiled.
Next, Paul, who brought me in for a daringly tight hug.
" 'm Paul! I'm so glad to meet ya, love." I nearly fainted when I heard him say this. Paul McCartney called me love!
John, the more sly and snarky out of the two others still brought me in for a bear hug, explaining as he did.
" 'ello girl! I'm Johnny Lemon! And you must be Princess Angelina, so very pleased and honoured yer highness!" He squeezed me knowingly and I laughed, and managed to mumble out, "I ain't no princess."
Finally, but not at all in the least, came George. He was a bit awkward and reserved at first, shaking hands as he mumbled out his cute little 'allo'. But he warmed up to me as soon as he started a game of thumb war with me, and pulled me into the most wonderful hug I'd ever received in my entire life. Warm, tender, and secure, it was the hug I'd remember for decades to come.
"Now that you've met all the boys, Angie, you'll be under their care as their daughter. Legally, you have four parents." Danielle explained and I thought it to be very amusing, but didn't reveal it.
"Now all that's left is... home."
(UNDER SLOW CONSTRUCTION BE PATIENT WITH ME GUYS 😊)