September 27, 1964. Prince of Wales Theatre, London. 5:00 p.m

[mr_b_epstein]

I'd been offered a spot on a panel of judges at 'Beat Time for Oxfam'. As far as I knew, it was a pop talent contest with some sort of charity connection being held at the Prince of Wales Theatre. They'd asked me to bring one of the boys along to fill the remaining spot

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[richiestarr]

I climbed into the passenger seat of Brian's car, and gave him a quick glance as I lit up a prepared cigarette. "I don't mind, it's something to do. And hey, better have some females than none." I flashed a grin in his direction, before quickly adding, "I mean, not to say that males aren't great, but you know, it'd be weird to have those screaming at you."

I was on a roll tonight, wasn't I?

I looked out the window and tried to ignore the awkwardness that I just created, puffing away at my cig. Well, shit, things weren't this awkward before, when I'd never even tried blokes. Why was it like this now?

"I just hope, Mr. Epstein, you remember that ladies of my stature don't open our legs on the first date. Good thing you're buying drinks then, right?" I said in a high-pitched falsetto, smiling like the devil in his direction. I batted my eyelashes, for effect, and giggled a little. "So really, you're paying for my drinks, right? And I get as many as I want?"

[mr_b_epstein]

I laughed softly, drumming my hands on the wheel. I had been right to invite Ringo, he had a way of making me laugh, despite my own personal traumas.

"Well, since you've informed me your legs will be remaining closed, I think I may have to reconsider the drinks." I said haughtily, a smile tugging at my lips. "And I shan't change my mind, no matter how prettily you bat those eyelashes at me."

I couldn't help but laugh again at him, preening like a woman...or Paul, for that matter.

[richiestarr]

My jaw fell open in mock-surprise, and a gasp fell from my lips. "Oh, but sir, I am a lady! Not any filthy hooker off the street-- or rentboy, seeing as I am more equipped to be a rentboy. I never would though, because I," I paused for effect, lifting my head up haughtily before speaking again. "Am I lady."

I glanced down and sighed. "Well, it looks like I shan't be getting pissed tonight. Bother, if that's the case, I may have to reconsider being a lady. No matter how pretty of a lady I am, with nice tits and all." I shook my head mournfully and looked away. "Oh well, I have my priorities, and alcohol is always first, right after sex." Did that make sense? First after something? Well, he probably wouldn't catch it. God, did I hope he wasn't serious about my closed legs and his closed wallet, though.

[mr_b_epstein]

I found myself grinning, which was quite an occurance, as I hadn't been in the best of spirits since the disastrous flight home.

"Perhaps I may reconsider. After all, I wouldn't want you think I had designs on your virtue, after all." I snorted a bit at that. After what George had told me about the boys nightly activities on tour, I doubted any of them could ever be mistaken for virtuous.

"Besides, you'll have to wait until after this show anyways. We'll be on camera, and I suspect you're a bit more charming when you're not falling down drunk."

[richiestarr]

My ears perked up at the mention of drunk, and I suddenly sat up in my seat, smiling as wide as I could. "Oh, I can be good when I'm drunk! Charming, a real catch, I swear! I can be a good boy! Or girl, whichever I am now, I forget. I'll check in a bit." I laughed.

"Besides, you need a little drink too, hm? A drink or a boy, I don't know, which is it? I'm no good with psychology, but you've been off lately, I can tell that much."

[mr_b_epstein]

"So you claim, but when you're slurring your words on camera, the Derek will be horrified at the amount of press work he'll have to do to cover it up." I laughed.

"I'm no good with psychology, but you've been off lately, I can tell that much."

I tensed a bit at that. It was foolish to think he hadn't noticed, he'd even commented on it on the plane, but...I had rather hoped I'd been hiding my depression well.

"After the show, we can drink all you'd like." I promised. "I'll have to content myself with a drink, as it's unlikely I shall find a boy tonight."

Well, not entirely. I'm sure I could go out for one after I'd taken him home, but no need to volunteer such information.

[richiestarr]

There was a short lapse in the conversation where I thought for a moment. "Well... I suppose you just have to decide, then. Derek or drunkeness?" I grinned and settled into my seat, my arms crossed smugly. "Which do you like more?"

I turned away from him(once again), still smiling. "I know you'll make the right choice."

I raised my eyebrow and gasped, eyes wide and mock-surprised. "No boys! My god, you're growing old!" I glanced at the road-- no children, we'd be fine if we hit something, right?-- and leaned forward to look him in the face. "Are you sick? My god, man, snap out of it!" I stared at him a bit longer, just enjoying blocking his view of the road for the hell of it.

I finally fell back into my seat, snickering immaturely, and crossed my legs idly. "You know, Tuesday's my rentboy night."

[mr_b_epstein]

"Work first, drinks later. As many as you'd like." I promised, thinking it was perhaps for the best that we didn't give Derek a heart attack.

"You know, Tuesday's my rentboy night."

I raised an eyebrow at him, not quite sure what to make of that statement. He couldn't be serious...could he? One never really knew with these boys, as I'd come to find out.

"Are you offering, Richie?" I chuckled. "It would certainly save me some time hunting a rent boy down. Very convenient, really, seeing as I've already picked you up."

I smiled to let him know I was only joking but...I really did wonder.

[richiestarr]

I smiled widely at that; oh, he'd be surprised how many I could drink. He should've thought over what he said more carefully. "Oh, come on, he's a press officer, shots are more important than that, aren't they? If anything else, champagne-- you like that, don't you? Classy, posh drink for a classy, posh man. Not suitable for a rock-star such as myself, but since it's got alcohol..." I laughed. I wasn't sure if he'd appreciate the posh comment much.

"Well, are you? I could squeeze you inbetween appointments, but..." I fluttered my eyelashes at him. "Remember, I am a lady! And as such, my very lady-like legs will stay closed in a very lady-like matter!" I paused, the chuckled. "Until we discuss prices and come to an agreement."

Another laugh, and I shook my head. "You know, I'd probably act more sober if I had a drink in me. Or two."

[mr_b_epstein]

I snickered, realizing he wasn't going to give up until he had a drink in his hand.

"Very well. I'm sure when we get there we can find someone to oblige you with some liquor. After all, you are, as you said, a rockstar."

He was fluttering his eyelashes again, and I couldn't help but laugh at him. He must have spent too much time around Paul on tour, showing off his eyes like that.

"A lady, of course. But I am paying for all your drinks, and driving you about in a rather grand manner, to boot. What other demands might the great Ringo Starr make of me?" I asked, half-joking, half-serious.

[richiestarr]

My smile widened. "Ah, there we go! I promise I won't slur my speech too much now, but just because press officers are in rather short supply."

Maybe this night wasn't going to be all that bad; I could forget the screaming females with the help of a little booze, and if I could snag one of them, my night could end in an even better manner.

Wait... George. Fuck, were we still allowed to shag girls? I hadn't asked; What were the rules on this whole thing? I supposed we were still allowed to go out with our current girlfriends, that much was true, but what about random birds? That hadn't stopped me before, with Mo, but this is different. Mo couldn't punch me in the nose. George could-- or, he could kick me out.

I was suddenly brought back down to Earth by Brian, and I whipped over to face him. I'd only heard the second part; shit, he wouldn't notice, would he? "Hmm... Ringo Starr wants... a kitten. And a puppy." I stared at him, utterly deadpan. I really hoped this wasn't going to come back to haunt me.

[mr_b_epstein]

I laughed at his expression, so serious. As if one couldn't simply walk into the nearest pet shop and procure both his desired objects. I opened my mouth to reply, but closed it again as I noticed a policeman gesturing to us, directing off to what I assumed was a side entrance.

"Well, you're out of luck at the moment," I told him as I turned into the side road. "The only thing you're likely to get here, besides your alcohol, is a headache from those hysterical females."

I really did hope he didn't intend on getting drunk while on air. Derek would kill both of us.

[richiestarr]

I pouted and slunk back into my seat. "Aww, what a disappointment. I was so looking forward to my kitten." I chuckled and grinned over at him slyly. "I suppose I'll have to settle for a pussy, then, hm?"

I leaned forward onto the dash of his car and looked around curiously. "So this is it, is it? We're here?"

[mr_b_epstein]

I blushed furiously as I cut the engine. Well, at least he was making the best of the situation.

"Yes, this is the back entrance. I was told it was best to enter the studio here, to keep you from being mobbed." I stowed my keys in my pocket, my hand brushing against my bottle of pills. I had a feeling I was going to need them at some point tonight.

"Come on, Ringo. Let's see if we can't get you a drink, and a kitten."

[richiestarr]

Oh god; don't make a 'back entrance' joke. Don't do it, he won't like it, he'll get all pissy...

"I'm not sure I like back entrances as much as you, Brian..." Shit, I did it. I mumbled it, but I still did it. I really, really hoped he didn't hear that.

I lit up excitedly as if nothing had happened and clapped, bouncing up and down. "Oh, goodie! A kitten!"

[mr_b_epstein]

I was torn between disapproval and amusement. I don't think I'd ever get used to how flippant he was about my homosexuality. It was something that wasn't spoken of in polite company, and rarely mentioned in less-polite company, yet he referanced it almost casually.

However, there wasn't much I could do in response but blush and stammer a bit, and otherwise ignore the comment altogether. I gestured towards the door, noting the security guards looking us over.

"Yes, a kitten for your very own. Although I doubt George will let me take you anywhere after this, when I dump you on his doorstep drunk, and in possession of a kitten." I snickered a bit at the thought.