Chapter one
Title: I’ve Just Seen A Face: Chapter One (Forgot)
Author: thetenwords
Rating: R sexual situation, profanity, and violence
Plot: Anne is your average small-town girl who gets herself caught up in her own version of her favorite fanfic, “Living Lennon”. Things don’t go like she planned and all she knows is she won’t forget her life before or after this bittersweet experience…
Warning: READ LIVING LENNON BEFORE YOU READ THIS STORY!!!! This isn’t a sequel, but it will help you kind of understand the plot. Plus, it’s a kick-ass story.
Disclaimer: As often as I check eBay, the Beatles are never ACTUALLY for sale. So I don’t own them. (Yet.)
“You’re insane, Kels. I love you, but you’re insane.”
“Well, I’ll prove it to you!”
With that, she grabbed my wrist and pulled me downstairs to her basement, where her nerdy cousin was typing rapidly at a keyboard, connected to the… whatever it was. She smirked at me, and then tapped her cousin on the shoulder. He checked me out and seemed pleased, though he shouldn’t have; given the fact I was wearing my Silver Beetles costume, which consisted of black leather boots, skintight leather pants, a black t-shirt, and a fake ciggie.
He explained it to me in geek language, which had too many technical terms for Bill Gates to understand.
He offered me 10% of his earnings if I tested the machine for him, which he meant to go back in time, retrieve an object, and come back to my time by clicking a special little gadget that looked like a ballpoint pen. I shrugged, figuring that time machines wouldn’t sell for very cheap. I took the pen-like thing, stepping in the cardboard box, and asked for The Nerd to bring me back to the Hamburg days. He shrugged, entered the time, and then pressed a button as Kelsea was biting her fingernails so that there was barely any finger left. Which, quite frankly, I had seen it before and it was NOT the most bodacious thing I had ever seen.
“Kel-“
Falling, yes, I am falling, and she keeps calling, me back again….
……
“Where the bloody fuck are we now?” he looks around my loft, observing everything from the snow-white couch to the hardwood floors to the Midnight Eclipse paint on the walls. I just can’t believe George Harrison is in my home.
“Well, umm… 2010, my loft. You’ve been taken forward in time.”
He stares at me, his eyes trying to penetrate through my soul. Luckily, he lightened up, and then he saw my coffee table book, which was of the Beatles. He looked at it, and I breathed in and out, just glad he was distracted. I ran to my room, grabbing my binder, flipping to the first page as I sat on the mattress lying directly on the floor in the corner of my room.
4:32 a.m. for many it's a very insignificant hour. Most people in their right minds are asleep at this hour, some are just getting home from a late night of partying with their friends, and I am not those people. For some odd reason these past 3 months I find myself waking from my sleep at exactly this hour… ….the Jonas Brother's slowly fell off the music charts and were never heard from again. The end.
“What are you reading?” George walked up to my door, his nose still in the book plastered with him.
“It’s a story…” and with that, he picked it up, examining the story.
I rolled my eyes and decided I’d feed him. I got up to go to my kitchen, only to see him following me, continuing to read. He sat at the table, and I looked in the freezer, pulling out a box of Lean Pockets and sticking them in the microwave. I saw him twitch his nose in disgust, and I figured it was either man-scaping or McGriddles.
By the time he had wolfed down his Lean Pocket and read the entire story, he was eyeing me differently. I was feeling kind of paranoid in my outfit of complete leather, though he was wearing the same. And let me tell you, that leather was form-fitting, because it fit his form in ALL the right places.
“So… what do you want to do?”
“I don’t know. I’m tired. You can sleep in my bed and I’ll sleep on the floor.”
His eyes got big. “Why? I’m not going to shag you!”
“I like sleeping on the floor.” I got up, walked to my room, and then got him something to change into. “I’m guessing you don’t want to sleep in leather, so here’s a t-shirt and some pajama pants. You can change in here. I’ll unlock the door to my room when I’m done.”
I went in my room, closed the door, and quickly took off my pants, shirt, and hat, kicking off my shoes, and then hearing a door, looking for something to cover me, finding nothing.
George stood there, looking at me, wearing panties and a bra and socks, just kind of checking me out.
I looked at him, too, especially given the fact he had refused to put on his shirt… and he was fit. I came to my senses, grabbing my Mountain Dew pants and remembering the only clean shirt I had was the one George was supposed to be wearing. He laughed as I pulled the pants over me.
“You left the door unlocked, love. Were you trying to seduce me?”
I pursed my lips. “No. I forgot to lock the door because I figured a bloke like you would knock first.” I got some blankets, laying them down on the floor as he tossed me a pillow from my mattress.
“You sure you want to sleep on the floor? It looks kind of cold.”
“Yeah. I sleep on the floor all the time.”
“In October?”
I turned off the light. “Good night, George.”
“Night, loov.”
I gritted my teeth, climbing into my blankets on the floor, realizing George was right. It WAS cold. And having hardwood floors didn’t help either. I shivered, and then quietly got up to shave my legs, but when I got back, I was only colder. I shivered, hearing George turning over in my bed. I quickly fell asleep.
When I woke up, I thought that it had all been a dream, but when I turned over, I saw that it was as real as the mattress itself.