He let his fingers move on their own as he sat on the couch, his eyes closed, softly breathing and lightly tracing the rough strings with his finger tips, feeling them vibrate under his touch. He sat with his legs half tucked under his body, his guitar in his lap and he head hanging slightly forwards as he focused on his breathing, trying to concentrate on nothing and simply let his fingers do their work, letting his subconscious guide them. Apart from the soft sound of his breathing and the gentle tones of the guitar, it was completely quiet in the room.

For the first time in nearly three months, he was feeling quite comfortable and relaxed. His mind had shut itself off, making his head completely clear as he listened to the melodious sounds from his guitar, allowing him to think of nothing and finally get Ringo out of his mind. His phone lay before him on the coffee table, but he hadn't looked at it since he had closed his eyes and got started, which must have been about two hours ago when he got home from Olivia's. His pyjamas hung loosely around his body, allowing his body to bend in any direction it could without being restrained. It was nice.

Until Paul came home of course. His ears picked up at the sound of him climbing the stairs, quickly followed by a much louder sound of keys clashing against the door. George let out a deep sigh and slowly opened his eyes, bringing himself back to into the room. Right away his fingers stopped moving on the guitar and the music stopped. He put it aside and turned his head to see Paul walking into the apartment, looking tired with his pale face, almost broken lips and the dark circles under his eyes, which had once been hidden by a thin layer of make-up.

"Hey, Georgie." Paul muttered as he let the door fall close with a thud, leaned against it and began to take off his shoes and coat. George watched him carefully, trying to figure out if Paul was just tired or if things hadn't gone that well as work as Paul might have hoped. Paul put his stuff away and dropped his keys in the little bowl on the fireplace before moving sluggishly over to the couch, where he let himself fall down next to George with a deep sigh, his eyes falling close.

"You okay?" George asked carefully, still watching closely as Paul began to rub his forehead. He opened his eyes again and turned his head towards him to smile at him.

"I'm fine. Just tired." He replied, his voice croaky. George, however, wasn't so sure yet. He shuffled closer to Paul, carefully moving his hair out of his face. He chuckled at Paul leaned into the touch, rubbing against his hand like a cat would do.

"Are you sure? You don't look too good." He asked and Paul let out a small chuckle and looked George straight in the eye as he nodded, smiling broadly so his teeth were exposed. He seemed genuine.

"Good." George muttered, smiling back at him as he continued to run his fingers through Paul's hair, making Paul relax into the couch. For a moment he thought Paul would actually fall asleep right there, but then he starting speaking again.

"I saw Ringo, by the way. At work." He told him and George almost gasped in shock, his fingers suddenly stilling against Paul's forehead.

"What? What was he doing there?" He asked, suddenly fearing he had given up on him and tried to forget about him by finding some other pretty boy to look at when he wasn't working. He wouldn't. Right?

"Relax, Geo. It's nothing like that," Paul muttered, as if he had been able to read his thoughts, "he wanted to talk to John. Apparently, he wants to make up with you."

"But he can't phoned me in a week!" George exclaimed, but he fell silent as Paul looked up at him with a glare.

"Yes, and why do you think that is, eh?" He asked and George flushed slightly, "He abandoned that idea and came to John to ask for another way to get your attention. Honestly, I'm surprised he even wants to try still. Seems like he's pretty crazy about you. I don't think I would put that much effort into a girl. Not one I only dated for a couple of weeks. I don't understand why you don't call him yourself. You're acting very difficult, George."

"Olivia told me that, too." George admitted, biting his lip as he considered it.

"Well, I think she's right. After all the effort Ringo has put into it, it might be your turn now. Besides, you want to get back with him, don't you?" Paul asked, nudging George's leg with his foot, grinning knowingly as he watched a goofy smile appear on his friend's face.

"Well... yeah. I know I haven't been fair to him about what happened and I should have been more honest to him about my job and explained more-"

"He thought it was just a job to you, you know. He seemed surprised when I told him it was much more than that. Much more than an easy way to make money."

"I know! I was just... scared, you know. I never had anyone after... you know. That. I didn't want to fuck it up again. I didn't want to go through that again." George confessed with a sigh, leaning back on the couch and closing his eyes with a deep sigh. He twitched when he suddenly felt Paul's hand on his arm, squeezing reassuringly.

"I know, Geo. Christ, I know, but Ringo isn't like him. You know that. He's nothing like him. Ringo is sweet and kind. He cares about you and your happiness. He seems to really love you. He would never do anything like that to you." Paul said to him in a gentle voice, shuffling over to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulder to hold him a little closer.

"I know... But I was still afraid. I mean, I never had anyone after that, and the whole situation was so alike at time. I never thought he was like that, either, did I? I didn't want to be hurt again, so I thought that maybe if I didn't let Ringo have any control of me with my work, it would be different."

"Ringo didn't want control of you. I just wanted to understand. He needed time to understand and settle in to the idea of you having that job. Do you really think Ringo would want to control you in any way?"

"No... He's too sweet. Too loving. Too understanding. God, I've been so stupid! I know I have been. I've been awful and yet he's been calling me so often, begging me to listen to him, and now he's asked John for help! I don't know why he wants me, Paul. Sometimes, I just really don't get it."

"I told you! You're handsome and sexy, but also really clever and funny and gentle. Loving. Perhaps a little crazy. You're spiritual and open-minded. You're driven and you know what you want. You're not arrogant, you're not greedy, you're not mean. You're great. You're the best friend I could wish for, and that's coming from me, so I can't even begin to imagine what Ringo must think of you!" Paul said, smiling happily and gently poking George in the face to get him to laugh. When he finally did, George felt better already, believing Paul, knowing his friend wouldn't say something like that if he weren't true.

"Thank you, Macca." He muttered, letting out a yawn. When Paul started petting his head, he pushed his hand away firmly, still chuckling.

"You should call him. Tell him everything. About everything. Make him understand. He will still love you afterwards, I know."

"You think so?" George asked hopefully, the smile still there. It grew only wider when Paul nodded. "Do you know what he's planning now?" George asked, only to sigh in disappointment when Paul shook his head.

"No. Can't say I'm not curious though. Considering he asked John of all people. But we'll figure it out soon enough. Unless you decide to call him, that is." He said and George couldn't hold back his smile any more. Just knowing that Ringo would try all of that just to get him to listen to him, made him feel giddy inside, to know he meant so much to the other man. He had to bit down his fist not to let it show, but Paul noticed anyway, and grinned back at him knowingly.

"Oh, piss off." George told him, pushing him playfully, as he tried to make his smile go away. Paul, however, only continued grinning at him.

"What?! I think it's cute you're so into him. My baby brother has a little crush. It's adorable." He said and George rolled his eyes as he grabbed a pillow form the couch and threw it at him in revenge, as he got up and walked away, trying his hardest to ignore the childish teasing noises Paul was making, which were quickly shut out as George closed the door to his bedroom behind him.

               Work had been incredibly busy again. The theatre was just about two weeks away from opening a new show, so people were pretty much just hurrying up and down all day, taking phone calls, sending emails, getting papers from other people's desk, asking each other about specific details, and overall just making sure the next few months would go smooth. Especially the opening night was a large source for anxiety.

All of this meant that Ringo found little time to spend on preparing his little plan. It would be easy enough to do, but it did take some time, especially since it would end with George and him talking it out and who knew how long that would take? His promotion hadn't become official yet due to all the work as well, but Ringo had been assured he'd get it the week after the première of the new play, which had seemed reasonably enough.

What was lucky, however, was the the people whom he had been asked to show around, had been pleased with his work and had donated quite a lot of money to the theatre, which meant Pete was pleased again with him, despite his outburst. But even so Ringo was still nervous to meet him again, as they hadn't spoken each other at all since. He didn't want to apologise for his outburst after what Pete had said to him about George, knowing he had been terrible wrong to make any unfounded claims about him, but he felt like he had to. And if his sources were correct, Pete would want to speak with him today. Ringo could only hope he wasn't going to take his promotion away, although he knew that if that was the case, Pete would have done it far sooner.

Ringo sighed and told himself to get back to work as he scrolled through a list of invited people, all of whom needed a place to park their cars, somewhere to put their coats, something to drink and eat while they waited, a seat for the show, more food and drinks during the break, a place to get away from the press, a place to talk to the press, and finally a selected few would get a tour and perhaps even meet the actors performing. It was a lot to deal with, but he would manage.

However, he doubted he would get it done in time if he kept being interrupted. He had been about to turn to the unfortunate fellow and yell at him to scare him away, when he realised it had been Pete who had stepped into his office without knocking. Ringo quickly shut his mouth and turned back to his computer as he offered Pete a seat by waving at a chair. Pete thanked him and sat down, but not before sliding a piece of paper under Ringo's nose, catching his attention instantly.

"What is this?" Ringo asked as he picked it up and turned it in his hand. Pete merely shrugged and leaned with his head on his hand as he waited for Ringo to open it. Ringo frowned, but curiosity got the better of him, so he folded the piece of paper open and started to read what was on it. It was an invitation. For the opening night of the new play! For him and one extra person. He looked up at Pete with surprise.

"It would be good for you to be there with your promotion coming up. And... well... we're all kind of done with you looking sorry for yourself because your boyfriend, or whatever you call him, left you, so we hoped this might cheer you up and put you back in the right state of mind." Pete explained, but Ringo loved the invitation nonetheless, already knowing whom he was going to take with him. If only his plan would work.

"Thank you, Pete!" Ringo said as he pocketed the invitation, not wanting to lose it. Pete just smiled and nodded as he got up from his seat. "That was all the, was it?" Ringo asked, surprised.

"Yes. And er... don't forget the meeting tomorrow morning. It's important."

"Of course! Oh, and Pete. I er... I'm sorry, by the way. For my outburst some days ago. I-I shouldn't have been so rude."

"Don't waste your breath, Ringo. I'll see you in the morning." Pete replied rather bitterly, and Ringo squirmed uneasily in his seat at that, knowing Pete still hadn't completely forgiven him for that. He patted Ringo firmly on the shoulder as he moved past him to walk out. Yet, it didn't feel completely friendly.

"Do you remember when we used to be friends?" Ringo asked, as Pete moved to step out of his office, taking in a deep breath as he waited for a reply. Pete's footsteps halted halfway, and for a moment Ringo thought he was going to get a reply, but then Pete started walking again and the door to his office fell shut with a loud thud. Ringo wasn't sure whether he was relieved or disappointed.

               It was only a few days later that Ringo managed to find the time to buy the stuff he needed. But the storm at work had started to lay low for a while, giving Ringo just enough time to stop work early that day and hop over to the shops before closing time. He was now carrying a large plastic bag with stuff into his apartment.

Muffin was meowing unhappily, not being used to have to wait for her dinner, as he owner always went to her first after work. She hopped onto the kitchen counter and didn't grant Ringo one look as she waited with his head raised in the air for her food. Ringo sighed, put his stuff away and made her her dinner. As soon as he put the food in a bowl, she tiptoed over to him and started eating, not even giving Ringo the chance to put the food in it's usual spot on the ground. Ringo sighed, but let her eat on the counter instead, not caring enough about the change of eating spot at that moment.

He put his bag aside and stumbled into his bedroom to grab his laptop. He checked the clock. He still had plenty time. He was glad John had informed him on this. Because Ringo spend most of his days in the theatre, he rarely went to concerts, so he didn't really keep up with the agenda all too much. It seemed like this time, however, fate was feeling generous towards him, so he couldn't wait to see what would go wrong at the last moment.

He put up his laptop on the kitchen table and sat behind it as he grabbed what he needed from his bag and also grabbed a pair of scissors and a pen. If he could finish this today, he could perhaps give it to George that weekend, which would mean he had plenty of time to make up with him. And, he would have someone to take to the opening night at the theatre. He wasn't sure if George would like that, but he really hoped he would. The only negative side would be that everyone knew what George did, which would probably cause for some mean rumours. But then again, they didn't know George, so perhaps George could show them he was not like people thought he was. Just barely more than a whore, just a pretty thing to look at and not worth anything more than that.

George was going to be his boyfriend again, damn it, and fuck everyone who thought they could just judge George based on his job. They could learn, like he had done, and George could prove to them he was more than that and that being a stripper was just part of who he was, like all their jobs were also part of who they were. That he really wasn't that different.

Ringo started humming a tune as he started to get to work, occasionally glancing over at his computer screen and clicking on a few things. It was busy on the website, but John had been right to say he would manage to get two tickets. He just needed to be patient. And then he needed to be quick. But he would make it. Besides, the guy was fucking old, so who would want to see him right now? There couldn't be that many. Or so he hoped. He kept humming his tune and working as he kept paying attention to the computer. Yes, he was going to make this. And when he did, George would be over the moon.

               The phone lay in the middle of the table, facing up, a blue light flickering at him. But he wasn't interested in that flickering light. He couldn't care less about anyone at that moment apart from Ringo. He had been sitting there for a while and Paul was occasionally glanced over at him to see how he was doing as he playing his bass, coming up with a few nice lines for existing songs and their own, both new and old. And despite the fact that he was making by far the most noise, he became increasingly annoyed by George, who was still sitting at that damn table, staring at his phone, as he took a couple of deep breaths, trying to calm himself. Sometimes he'd lightly finger the edges of the phone or feel how it would lay in his hand, before he'd put it back down, followed by an exasperated gasp from Paul on the couch.

Ringo still hadn't called. It had been days and George hadn't heard a single thing from him. He still hadn't tried any other way to catch his attention either, and if he had been trying he had been doing a very bad job, which made George doubt Ringo had told the truth to Paul. Perhaps he had just been visiting some hot young thing and hadn't expected to Paul there that evening and had made that story about him and John talking up. George sure didn't hope so.

Finally, he worked up to courage to do it. Paul was right. Olivia was right. Ringo would want to talk to him and make up, or else he wouldn't have gone through all those troubles. Perhaps now it was his turn. With shaky fingers, George dialled Ringo's number and called him. He took a couple of deep breaths to try to calm himself, but it didn't work, his breathing getting worse with each beep of the phone. Then, finally, the phone was answered and a man's voice greeted him with a slight annoyed huff, making George instantly wonder what he was doing to sound like that. Like had been digging three graves at the same time without any drink anywhere near. It sounded almost painful.