Beatlemania!

The next album was being discussed, but no demos had been made as of yet. The band was settling back into the spotlight, and they were taking the next album a bit slower.

Ringo was growing moodier and moodier as the month of March greeted us with welcoming arms.

“I’m not important,” he kept telling me.

“Shut up, you idiot!” I would retort. “You’re always important!”

On the other hand, John was growing more and more excited about Yoko.

“Alice, she’s just right for me,” he grinned.

I smiled sadly. “If that’s true, John...then I’m happy for you.”

Yoko started showing up at few Beatle get-togethers, usually sitting and speaking only with John. It was terribly awkward, as she refused to speak with me, so I was too shy to say anything.

I had a bit of a whinge to Paul about it one evening at dinner.

“Paul,” I groaned. “She’s terrible! I don’t know what to say to her!.

He pulled me in for a hug. “Don’t worry; she’s just one of John’s phases. He’ll grow out of her in a month or two.”

“I hope so,” I mumbled.
~

The boys had apparently been approached to be in a new animated video – Yellow Submarine. It sounded really funny and a good larf for the lads.

They weren’t really too involved in it, since the soundtrack was going to be based mostly on Revolver, Rubber Soul, and Sgt. Pepper.

Paul was pretty excited. “I love animated movies,” he explained.

So Yellow Submarine was given consent to use the Beatles’ characters and songs, and the Beatles moved on to bigger and better ideas.

They were officially opening up their own company, Apple. It was going to help un-discovered artists get funding and a record made for cheap.

I thought it was a great idea on paper, but it would not work as perfectly as they were hoping it would be. I wasn’t afraid to tell them all of that as well.

“Come on, you guys. This is never going to work,” I exclaimed in disbelief.

“Jesus, Alice,” Paul snapped. “have a little faith in the idea.”

“Paul,” I frowned. “Be realistic! This company is going to be one big money pit.”

“Well maybe if we put some time and confidence in the plan, then it’ll be come something great!” he retorted.

“Calm down, love,” George covered my hand with his. “Let it be.”

I shook off his hand quickly. “John! Don’t you think this is a stupid idea?”

Everyone turned to look at Lennon, who had been fixing his glasses quietly.

“Actually, I think it’s gear,” he corrected with a smile at Paul.

Paul fixed me with a “ha, told you so!” face and I grew furious will all of them. My blood boiled. Stubborn asses; the lot of them! I walked out of Paul’s living room with a large frown on my face.

“Oi! Alice!” John had followed me out of the room and was looking at me with a smirk on his face.

“What do you want, Lennon?” I rolled my eyes.

He laughed at my brusqueness. “Why can’t you give Apple a chance, love?”

“Because...I just want you guys to make good decisions, and I feel like opening this clinic would be the opposite of good,” I explained.

John shook his head. “But you don’t know that! We’ll never know unless we give it a go.”

“But all that money you’ll sink into it...” I trailed off.

“We’re Beatles, love. We’ve got more money than you can ever imagine. I think we can spare some,” John grinned.

I sighed. “Paul can be so...defensive about his ideas. And then he sulks about it when he’s wrong.”

He shrugged. “Well, that’s Paulie for you. But you love the bugger, so let him try Apple out. He wants to be a businessman, you know.”

I frowned. “But-”

John interrupted me. “Go on, Alice. You can’t stop us anyway; just go with it, please.”

I pouted and made a grudging sound of agreement. John left me with a grin and I left Paul’s place defeated.
~

Apple was put into action in just a few weeks. An opening date was set for the end of April and I was huffy about it, and Paul could tell. He confronted me at his place one evening, after we had eaten dinner.

“Alice, why can’t you just believe in me and my ideas?” he snapped irritably.

“I never said I didn’t believe in you!” I replied defensively.

“By thinking that my company will fail, you do not believe in my or my abilities,” Paul countered snidely.

I groaned in frustration. “Paul, I gave you my opinion and you ignored me!”

“You did the exact same thing to me!” he pointed out.

I chose to ignore that. “I don’t want to be just your girlfriend, Paul. I want to be able to have input in your life, and that includes the Beatles and every stupid endeavour you think up of.”

“You can have as much input as you like, but I could choose to just ignore you.”

“You know what, Paul? Forget it. I’m going home.” I picked up my bags and marched out of his house.

He came to my apartment two hours later as I was pulling on my paisley pyjamas.

“Are you here to yell at me some more?” I asked quietly. “If you are, could you come back tomorrow? I’m still tired from round one.”

Paul laughed softly. “I’m here with nothing but apologies. You were right; I should let you have an input on my decisions.”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t very supportive of your plan. But, I’m willing to give Apple a chance,” I offered.

Paul grinned. “Yes!”

I chuckled. “What?”

“Well, the only thing left to do is have wild make up sex in your living room,” he winked, pulling me towards the sofa.

“Does it have to be in here? The leather couch sticks to my-” Paul cut me off with a deep, mind-blowing kiss.

Well, despite how ugly the argument was, we certainly had the make-up thing down to a science!
~

The first song demoed for the new album was John’s “Dear Prudence”, which everybody agreed was good. Then George stepped up and produced “While My Guitar Gently Weeps.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t show this to me in India, mate,” Paul exclaimed after we had finished listening to it.

George shrugged, but was beaming with pride. “I want to make it a little more upbeat...I’m thinking of bringing Clapton in for a guitar solo, you know?”

“Record it like that as well,” I suggested. “I really like that version.”

Paul had made some small adjustments to “I Will,” and then that was demoed as well. It turns out, there was a rather large backlog of songs that the boys had.

“Since you’ve been pouting about not having enough say in anything,” George teased me at the studio one day. “We’re giving you free reign on the album title.”

“Really?” I grinned happily.

“Make it cool, love. We have to live up to our Beatle standards, you know,” John winked.

“You have standards?” I asked innocently. “I never knew!”
~