IMAGINE #4 : GEORGE HARRISON

FOR richardstarkeys

It wasn't hard pretending being in love with George. (That was the easy part.)

The hard part was knowing it wasn't real.

Halle wasn't really sure why she'd gone through with it. It was one thing when it was a possibility. When it was a possibility and not reality, it felt so far away. Halle had gone to the mall one day,  Eight Days a Week playing loudly on the speakers. She'd gone to get a new shirt for a friend. (Okay, she was searching for a Beatles shirt. Her friend was unhealthily obsessed.)

Luckily for Halle, there was a line of girls her age lined up to get free Beatles t-shirts. She wasn't sure why someone was giving them away, instead of making a profit. She thought of how sweet the gesture was, as she got in line to get her friend a free shirt.

The requirement to get a free t-shirt was to provide her telephone number and get her picture taken. Halle thought the latter was odd, but she went along with it anyway, because the shirt was free.

Halle bought herself a cinnamon roll and went home. That night, she dialed her friend and asked her to come get the t-shirt.

Berta, her friend, took the time to gush over how cute and adorable Ringo was on the t-shirt. Halle nodded along. She licked her spoon free of ice cream."They are cool, I guess," she said.

"Cool?" Berta questioned. "Only cool?"

"George is really cute," Halle replied. He was more than cute, she wanted to say. She'd had two dreams with George so far, and felt proud of herself for it. But she tried to remain calm when it came to bands and films. They were ways to entertain herself, ways to forget about her reality.

But they weren't reality.

Someone called two weeks later and asked Halle a bunch of questions, about her hobbies, which included: writing. Doodling bad pictures of poodles. Tea. And of course, reading. Halle thought the questions were from the girl that did interviews for the college's newspaper. Usually, freshmen would get nominated and chosen at random to answer questions for a column.

Halle was polite, and gave detailed answers. She waited and waited for her interview to appear in the paper.

It never did.

But another call did come and it was Brian Epstein.

. . .

"'Ello, Halle?" George asked. "Have you got it, then? We met when you went to a school trip in New York. We exchanged numbers and I invited you to set."

"And I'm having a wonderful time here in the set of Eight Arms to Hold You," Halle nodded along. She'd been given the basis of what to say, but no script. This was the first time she was going to speak to the press.

She'd been going from city to city, holding hands with George. They both appeared shy to the press, like a cute little couple. But this time, Halle was actually supposed to speak. And Brian had said they might have to kiss to really sell it.

"Please do not to mention the film by name. We're not sure it's final," Brian instructed. Halle nodded along, only half hearing what Brian had to say.

"Is my voice weird to you?" She asked him.

"No, it's not. You'll do brilliantly, Halle," he assured her. He insisted she have a pretend conversation with George. Brian pretended to be the press, drilling her for questions.

"Well, I wouldn't go as far as saying that," John said. Halle was so nervous, she couldn't find the words to make a comment at John. So instead, she shot him daggers.

She inhaled, arming herself with courage. "Does he have to be here?"

"I suppose not," John shrugged a shoulder. "But I am rather bored. I don't like boredom much, do you?"

"Do I have to kiss George?" Halle asked. It wasn't like she didn't want to kiss George. She did. She really did. But this wasn't real. She had signed a contract and everything.

"What's the matter? You have been kissed before, haven't you?" John asked. Halle let out a frustrated sigh. George rolled his eyes. John got the hint his comments weren't welcomed, and left the room to play guitar with Paul. (What he really should have been doing the whole time.) (But even geniuses procrastinate with their work, Halle realized.)

"Why don't you two go for a walk?" Brian suggested. George got up, happy to follow Brian's suggestion. Halle got up after him, and walked along side him towards the path that lead towards the pool.

They'd been in the Bahamas for the the last couple of days. Halle was yet to swim in the crystal clear pool. Each bedroom in the hotel lead toward an open hallway, lit up by the sun during the day. The open hallway way in turn, lead the path towards the pool. The pool lead to some stairs that lead towards the beach.

Halle liked it. She liked to look at the high ceilings and the designs of the walls. The hotel had this sense of being open to the rest of the world, to the ocean and everything else. But it was well guarded, and the press was hiding behind some bushes by the stairs that lead towards the beach.

They were clicking away as soon as Halle and George stepped out. Which is why Brian had suggested it in the first place. Not because he actually wanted Halle to relax. Unless he thought Halle's way of relaxing was taking a long walk with a very cute boy (who was also a Beatle) while photographers took pictures of them hidden in some bushes. (Photographs that in a matter of days would be in the cover of every newspaper.)

Ah yes, Halle thought, so relaxing.

"Sorry about John's comment," George finally broke the silence. Halle nodded her head. Uh, huh, it was fine. It was totally fine. She knew George was going to hold her hand soon. She always felt nervous leading up to it. She still wasn't used to the feel of George's rough hands on her own. And of course, she always felt nervous while he held her hand.

But one crisis at a time.

"No big deal," Halle said, realizing she hadn't responded to George.

"You have, then?" He asked. What? What were they talking about again? It dawned on her he was asking her if she had kissed boys. Halle blushed, then proceed her best to try and hide the blush. It was really hot, so she could pretend it was from that.

"Uh—" Halle began.

George noticed Halle's blush. "I'd hate for your first kiss to be in public, is all," he said. "So have you? Or would you like to practice with me beforehand? Or with someone else but me? I'll find you a nice lad, there's got to be here someone around here."

"No, no, no, no."

"No?"

"No, I mean, yes," she replied. "No I mean, I don't want to kiss anyone to practice. It's kind of like riding a bike, right? You learn it once and then you don't have to learn it again."

George found that amusing. He laughed. Halle panicked.

"But like riding a bike, it's something you can be better at with practice," George said. So basically, he was saying she was bad at kissing? Which to be fair, Halle wasn't sure she could judge her own kissing abilities.

God, what was she thinking? She stopped her train of thought, and started talking because George wasn't. She told him about how she hadn't gone swimming and it was something she wanted to do. She told him about life back home, some of the classes she'd begun taking in college before coming here.

George listened, stopping once to ask her if he could hold her hand. Halle thought of their song, I Want to Hold Your Hand, and smiled at her own reference.

. . .

Halle tapped her foot nervously. She could hear the photographers in the next room with Brian. They'd been in conversation for the last half hour. The amount of anxiety Halle felt gradually strengthened as more time passed and Brian didn't mention her name. George was next to her, a guitar in his hands.

"Are you alright, Halle?" George asked.

"Hmm," she replied. George patted the seat next to him on the couch. Halle took the seat reluctantly. Didn't he know he just made her more nervous?

"Who do you talk to whenever you're nervous?"

Halle thought about the question. "Berta," she replied. Ah, how much she missed Berta and her pessimistic attitude. Berta was always freaking out about everything, and how the world was going to end. Instead of that making Halle any more nervous, it made her smile.

"Tell me about her," George said. Halle did as told, recalling old stories of Berta. She told her about her obsession with the Beatles. How Berta was studying acting and wanted to be an actress one day. Halle went on, until Brian came into the room and told them the press was ready for them.

Halle realized her anxiety had eased a little. George offered a hand when she got up from the couch. He didn't let go as they walked. He didn't let go as they sat down. He didn't let go as he talked about the film. Finally, the press' attention was turned towards Halle.

"How did you two meet?" One of them asked.

Halle waited for George to speak. He looked at her, nodding once. He paused so she could find the courage to speak.

"We met in New York. I was on a school trip and the Beatles were performing."

"Did you catch his eye from the crowd?" Another asked. George said that yes, Halle had caught his attention right from the start.

"What's your favorite thing about her?" A reporter asked. George looked towards Halle, a shy smile on his lips. Halle wanted to panic. Brian hadn't prepared them for this question.

"Her laugh," he replied. "She's got a wonderful laugh. I love to hear her laugh all of the time."

If only it were true.

Halle was asked the same question. She thought about the question before blurting, "Everything," Halle said. "I love everything about him. He's got a big great heart. He's generous and funny. His looks aren't half bad either."

The reporters laughed at the last part. She could feel George looking at her but Halle couldn't look back at him. She was already blushing uncontrollably. They took a couple of more questions and more pictures. George kept asking Halle if she was okay during the pictures, making sure she wasn't overwhelmed.

Halle kept nodding, yes, she was surprisingly okay. Finally, Brian told the reporters they could only have five more minutes. She let out a big sigh, she'd survived. Her sigh made some of the reporters laugh.

"Glad you survived!" One of them joked.

"Me too." Halle said.

As the five minutes ticked by, George turned towards her. Their hands were still intertwined.

He licked his lips. Halle felt her heartbeat quicken. Their foreheads touched.

George's hand went up her back, towards the back of her neck.

Halle's eyes closed.

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

George was going to kiss her in front of everyone.

Halle(lujah.)

"Great job," Brian clapped George's back. George pulled back. Halle sat there feeling idiotic, her hand no longer clasped with George's. Brian got them up and out of the room. He told them both to go off to bed and walked George back to his suite he was sharing with Paul. Halle was left alone wishing for once something would go right.

. . .

Halle watched the Help! promos play on her TV. After they'd wrapped shooting in the Bahamas, George had gone back to London. That was the deal, Halle came with them to all of their locations except London. She created buzz about the movie by being in a fake relationship with George. Now that it was over, Halle was back home.

She was taking a late start class that ended in June. She was also going to be taking two other classes in the summer, trying to get caught up with the semester she'd missed by being George's girlfriend.

God, Halle thought, how dare he mess up my schedule?

"Are you okay?" Halle's mom asked. Halle finished the tub of ice cream she was having. She put effort into nodding her head so her mom would beleive she was okay. "You don't have to attend the premier of Help! honey, it's alright."

"It's in the contract."

"We could get a lawyer," she suggested.

"And beat Brian and all of the lawyers they have? No," she replied. Somehow the idea did seem appealing to Halle. She wouldn't have to see George again. After they almost kissed, they only ever spent time walking in the afternoons.

Halle took to swimming in the pool and reading sappy romance novels. George mostly ignored her, even when they were together. A day before Halle left back to the U.S, she saw George kissing some model at a party.

So, that was that.

It was never real, Halle had to constantly keep reminding herself. It was never real, so why did it feel like it was?

. . .

The remaining days of April passed. Ticket To Ride was released and it was all Halle heard throughout the next couple of months. May passed in a blur of essays and presentations. By June, Halle couldn't hear the song anymore without being sad.

"I think I'm gonna be sad," John sang on the radio.

"I am," Halle replied. "Not."

Berta was her only solace from the misery she felt. At first, she'd lectured Halle on "letting go of George" but once she realized there was nothing Halle could do about it (she'd signed a contract!) Berta dropped the subject. Instead, she let Halle repeat the same stories about the Beatles. And George. And of course Ringo, Halle couldn't get away with a story about George without talking about Ringo next.

Late June, Halle finished her class. She had a week off before her next classes began. Berta was leaving to visit her parents in Mexico. Halle wanted to come with, to cling to Berta so that her only friend wouldn't leave.

"Come on," Halle said. "You can stay here the rest of the summer. It'll be very fun, eh?"

Berta shook her head. "If better get your act together before I come back, Halle."

"Or else?"

Berta didn't reply. Halle thought about it, it wouldn't be so bad being friendless would it? She had her mom. She had people she talked to at college, though no one she saw outside of it. Plus, she had pen pals.

If she didn't "get her act together" what's the worse that could really happen?

"Sure," Halle replied.

Early July, while Halle enjoyed her last day off, Brian called. He told her the dress to the premier would be taken care of, Halle simply had to have her measurements taken and send them. He told her everything else she needed to know, her flight and hotel information. Halle let Brian talk, not saying a word until he was finished.

"How does that sound?" Brian asked.

"I know I signed a contract but—"

"But?"

"Must I?"

"You signed a contract," he reminded her. Brian said goodbye and hung up the phone. Halle let out a frustrated sigh. She didn't know singing some stupid contract would be so painful. It wasn't as though she hadn't read it, it wasn't as though she didn't know what situation she was putting herself in.

Halle went out that same day to get her measurements taken. She didn't want to delay any of this any longer. Next month would be the premier and the last time she'd see George. Finally, she would be able to move on with her life. She called the next morning to give her measurements. Then, she headed to her first class.

. . .

"Halle," George said. Halle had arrived in London a day ago. Instead of going out however, she'd spent her time studying for the exam she had coming up. She'd ordered food in and hadn't set a foot out. How had George found her?

"George," Halle said, expecting him to be the food she'd ordered.

"What are you doing?" He asked. She moved away from the door, letting him inside. George walked inside, closing the door after him. He glanced at the table where Halle had her textbooks spread out. "Ah, studying."

"Who told you I'm here? Brian? Does he want us to go out on a little walk?" She questioned.

"Goodness no. A walk in the middle of London? Do you want to be mobbed?" Halle said nothing. George took a seat at the edge of her bed. Halle stood by the table, looking at the door. "I wanted to say hello and hope you're doing well."

"Great, yeah, I'm doing great."

"Are you really?" He asked. "You seem a bit off."

"It's fine. I just wish I had more time to study for these exams I have coming up," she replied. That was partially true, at least.

"Oh, right. How is that going? Your classes?"

"Going off to to pretend I was dating you screwed up my schedule. Good news, I'm only behind three classes. I'll have to take summer classes again next year. But it's alright."

"I mean," he said. "We had some good times, didn't we?"

Halle stared at the door. Yes, they'd had some good times. They'd been great when Halle had been living them. But now that they were ever, Halle would never live them again. Never again would George be a part of her reality.

Maybe that's why she'd been so miserable for the last two months. Halle found it funny how it had taken a conversation with George for her to realize why she'd feeling so poorly.

"Didn't we?" George asked. "I was going to call, y'know. I just didn't have your information. You left back to America without saying goodbye."

"Why didn't you tell Brian you wanted my number?"

"I dunno, I suppose I thought you were mad at me. I talked to Paul about it. He said maybe the whole thing had been traumatizing for you, and you didn't want to hear from me," he said. Halle took a seat in front of George. "I know the whole thing must of not been very fun. But I'd hope we'd be friends, at least."

"Friends," Halle said. She tried to hide the disappointment she felt. "Sure."

There was a knock on the door. Halle went to get her food and George stayed behind. He took a few of her french fries and ordered some food for himself, despite Halle insisting they could share. When it was getting late and the sun was beginning to set, the pair watched TV. Halle thought of how natural it felt doing this with George.

Maybe having a friend wouldn't be so bad. He could help her get a job after college, or something like that.

George ordered a car back to the place he was staying in. They both waited for the car, watching an ad that advertised cigarettes. Finally when George got a call that his car was downstairs, he got up. Halle had almost been falling asleep in front of the TV. She got up and walked with him towards the door.

They stood for a second facing each other. Halle wondered if they were going to hug. She was almost about to stick out her hand for him to shake, when he kissed her cheek. She smiled. He turned to leave and said goodbye.

Halle went back to bed when George left. She was exhausted. She was happy that at least she'd be friends with George after tomorrow.

There was a knock on her door. Halle got up and looked to see who it was. Again, she wasn't expecting George but there he was, at the other side. Halle opened the door, checking her reflection in the mirror. She wanted to panic. She brushed down her hair with her hands.

She opened the door.

"Did you forget something?" She asked. He stepped forward and kissed her. His hair was slightly damp from the rain but Halle ran her fingers through it anyway.

"More than friends?"

"More than friends."

. . .

[   richardstarkeys :

HALLE(LUJAH) I finally finished this for you. 🌸🌸🌸 I'm sorry for the pun, but I laughed too much when I wrote it. Also, sorry for all of the angst??? You know, I couldn't help myself. But I want to think it's mostly happy. I hope you liked this 💕💕💕]