*George's PoV*

After finishing gig we had a deserved break. Guys finally gave up on questions, seeing in how bad moods we were, and walked out of the room.

"Hey..." I got closer to Ringo. "How do you feel?"

"I'm still worried."

"If Pete went to the police, something would happen so far, don't you think?" I wish I was as confident as my voice was; I wanted to believe in this so much.

"Maybe..."

"See? Lighten up, we're playing in a few minutes." I smiled weakly.

"Yeah."

"Great," I was just about to get up, when suddenly Richard leaned in and kissed me. He surprised me, but I kissed back without thinking more.

"I love you," he said.

"I love you too, sandwichie."

"You won't stop calling me this, will you?" Starkey asked with a smile that I started to miss already.

"No." I stood up to prepare myself.

We were as nervous as always, walking on a stage. John introduced us to the audience and announced the first song. People answered with a loud applause and then we started to play. After few songs the time has come for mine — I was more than happy that they actually liked it. More, they let me sing it! That was something. I always thought about Ringo while doing this, about our love.

We were in the middle of the concert, when suddenly the doors opened rapidly. We stopped playing, scared, looked in that direction, as everyone, and saw a bunch of policemen. Nobody knew what was going on. Nobody... except of us.

I stood like this, completely paralyzed; Ringo dropped his drumsticks.

Maybe it's not about this... Maybe it's something else...

My hopes were brutally cut off when I saw Pete walking to the club with a huge grin on his face.

It's over.

The owner of the local ran to the cops. They were screaming something in German that I didn't understand, but I clearly saw an officer pointing at us. I also noticed Brian's terrified look. Our manager walked to us.

"Lennon, what have you done again?" he whispered.

"ME?! Why it has to always be MY fault? I'm clear this time!" John raised his hands defensively.

"Brian, I'm afraid I know-" I didn't finish because one of the cops walked on the stage into Ringo's direction. The man was pale as a dead man.

"Richard Starkey, you're under arrest for the homosexual practices. You'll go with us," he said in English.

"I-i..."

I'm not sure if I've seen someone as scared as him in my entire life. It was terrible. I couldn't do anything, I couldn't say anything. I was just standing in the middle of the stage with a guitar in my hand, not believing this is happening, wishing it's only a nightmare.

Everything was blurred; I heard Ringo's screams, Brian's protests, but I couldn't distinguish the single words.

The only thing I heard loudly and clearly was a laugh of Peter, still standing at the door.