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The Beatles- First Trip to America

Summary:
This is based on a dream I had. The Cullens do come in, later. The Beatles trip to America- what if the Beatles (Ringo, Paul, George and John) were human but George (I chose him randomly) meets a vampire on their way into a concert.


Notes:
This might end up being confusing- but it will make sense...eventually!


1. Coming to America

Rating 5/5   Word Count 555   Review this Chapter

"Ringo! We're going to be late! Hurry up!" I yelled. What was Ringo doing? George, behind me, pushed me onto the plane.

"Ringo! If you don't hurry up, we're leaving you here!" John yelled. What was with all the yelling? It was so loud, everyone yelling, everyone shouting. I sat in a seat, right beside a random person. As we always did. John and George sat on either side a some young girl, and immediately started talking to her.

"Fine weather we're having?" I asked the little kid I had sat beside.

He glared at me, "No, it's far too cold,"

"Well," I sniffed, and jumped to the seat behind me. There was no way I was sitting next to some depressed nine-year old for a few hours. I landed next to a fifteen year old girl. "Fine weather we're having?"

"Oh, yes." She nodded, "I adore the cold, I simply cannot stand the heat of summer. Hopefully New York will be colder,"

I looked over my shoulder, not really paying much attention to her reply. I slid across the aisle, directly in front of John. Two random people, a man a woman, were beside me. "Do you mind if I sit here?"

"No, not at all. We were hoping someone would sit there, otherwise the talk would be very dull," The man answered. Just my luck, everyone I had sat by was weird as can be.

"That's nice," The woman droned. Yes, this was going to be a dull plane ride.

"I'm Paul McCartney," I decided to introduce myself. John hadn't said anything about having to play incognito, which was always funner.

"Oh, are you now? I'm Richard Clevenson. Nice to meet you. You with the Beatles?" The man introduced himself.

"Yes, I am. Have you seen if Ringo's on the plane yet? He was lollygagging by the gate..." I craned my neck. Ringo dove through the door just as the stewardess was shutting it, slipping through a very small crack. I shook my head, "Never mind, I can see he has arrived."

Ringo thumped down into the seat beside the very talkative fifteen year old. Poor him. We were instructed to fasten our seatbelts, and the plane started to taxi for take off. The girl started talking very loud to Ringo. I descretly leaned towards them to listen, a very bad habit of mine.

"We are going to have a fabolous time, sitting next to one another!" She gushed, "Don't you think so?"

Ringo looked at me with urgency, and mouthed the words 'help me'. I shook my head.

"Its your own fault, Ringo. If you hadn't lollygagged, you could have a nice seat," Then I turned to John sitting behind me. "Ringo has arrived," I tilted my head in his direction.

"Has he? Is he enjoying himself?" John asked sarcastically, seeing Ringo's alarmed face.

"Oh yes, he's having a hopping time," I laughed, then turned back to Richard Clevenson.

"So, where you headed?" I asked, but he had turned his attention to a book, and ignored me. Which was very rude, but, then again, I had been paying attention to everyone but him.

I settled down in my seat and prepared myself for a very boring ride to JFK airport, in New York, America.