Chapter Text
It's 1964, your name is Amelia Renton and you are a soon-to-be 18 y.o. living in Liverpool. You have a short brown bob, and you stand at around 162cm tall. You're fairly popular in school, but no prom queen. You have a few friends, you don't really follow the trends, and you LOVE music.
It was another hazy April morning as the sun leaked in through your bedroom window. Your eyes opened, surveying your room, your Ronettes poster, your desk and chair with a big fluffy coat, all stuffed into the small attic of your stepmother's flat. You begin to sit up, rubbing the tiredness from your eyes, you glance at your alarm clock: 9am.
"9am?!" you jump out of bed in a flash. "God! I'll miss school again!" you could have sworn you'd set up your alarm last night, nonetheless, you begin to get dressed.
You slip on your white button up over your skirt before tucking it in and throwing on a cardigan. You wished you could have some new clothes, the ones real popular girls wore, but you were stuck with you older sisters' high school hand-me-downs from '56, since your stepmother won't bother wasting her money on useless things such as clothes, while her closet is full of the latest designer. You put on your long, white socks, and old shoes you've had for years.
Quickly, you reach for your comb to untangle the knots in your hair before putting on a red headband. This was your favorite headband. Whenever you had any money, you would spend it on a new headband or bow. You grabbed your bag and ran down the stairs. Before you could reach the door you heard a grating voice:
"Ameliaaaaa" your stepmother called out in a sing-song voice.
You cringed and turned around slowly. "Yes, Alexandra?" You never called her mother just to spite her.
"Mother." She corrected you.
You smiled sheepishly, "Yes? I'm going to be late for school" You spoke in an impatient tone.
Your stepmother quickly noticed your attitude and walked over to you. "You are not going to school today my dear, I have a surprise", she handed you a plate of food.
You knew this was one of her tactics. To butter you up, to make you unaware of what was going on, before she demanded you to do something. You assumed she would keep you home to do chores all day, as she did a few times every month. You hated this, not only because you had to be in the presence of the woman your father cheated on your mother for, but because missing school meant missing assignments, tests, quizzes. and failing classes.
You put on a false smile, "Oh really, Mother? What are we doing today then" you fed her the words in a sarcastic tone and watched her face become sour.
"Fine then, young lady" She removed her hand from your shoulder after squeezing it for the past minute.
"Just sit here and wait" Your stepmother left the room.
You sat on a wooden chair in the dining room.
Wait? What could she possibly have me waiting for?
You assumed at any moment she would come back into the room with a mile-long list of chores.
So, you waited and waited. 9:15, 9:30, 10! It had been nearly an hour since you first sat down. Fed up with waiting, you stood up.
Just as you began to look for your stepmother:
RRRRIIING!
The doorbell rang, with its horrid sound.
You looked around, waiting for your stepmother to return for the door. You thought about shouting for her, "Alexandra! Someone is at the door", but she had already annoyed you enough this morning.
RRRRIIING
You cautiously walked over to the door, not sure why you felt so nervous. As you reached for the door handle you heard what sounded like a couple of men.
"Are they home?" One asked impatiently.
"Be patient, will you? I'm sure they're a busy family." Another one replied.
You grabbed the handle and opened the door just as another
RRRRITING!!
rang out.
You stood face to face with 4 men.
The tallest of the bunch looked at you, "Good morning, would you be Miss Renton?" he stuck out his hand for you to shake it.
Confused, you shook his hand and slowly answered,
"Yes?"
"Very good then! Are you all ready, Miss?" He gestured to the black cab outside.
Suddenly, your stepmother appeared in the hall. She pushed you out of the way to greet the men.
"Oh yes, yes, hello, I am her stepmother, Ms. Blackwell" She spat the words out, flustered, and seemingly upset at you for not letting her know they were here, while shaking all of the men's hands.
One of them stepped out of the bunch. He was quite gaunt and seemed younger than the others. "Is she ready then Ms. Blackwell? To leave I mean" he asked your stepmother, while having his eyes fixed on you.
She looked in your direction for a moment, not fully processing the question.
"Ah!" she said, surprised "well, ahem, you see" she straightened the apron she had on.
"You see sirs, I haven't told her about our...arrangement yet"
The men looked at each other, a bit confused.
"Err, ma'am, you mean to tell me you haven't told your stepdaughter here, that you've, y'know, sold her?" One of the group with lighter hair spoke out.
You nearly jumped up. "Sold me?!!" you looked at your stepmother, sold me? as if I'm some prostitute?! who are these men anyway?!
Your mother glanced at you and completely nonchalantly replied: "Yes dear."
You felt as though you could faint. And you did, right then, right there.
Once you had regained consciousness, you found yourself looking straight up at one of the men. This being the one who broke the news to you, you pushed him away.
"Bloody hell, I was only trying to help!" He shouted in frustration as you pushed him away.
"Are you alright miss?" It was that nasally voice again, coming from the shortest of the group.
You stood up angrily. "No! I'm not! I've come to find out I've been sold to 4 random men!"
Once again, the men looked at each other. This time, they began to smile. The gaunt one smiled at you and said, "Well Miss Renton, we are The Beatles".
The other 3 stood proudly.
Before you could say anything, the tallest cut you off, "I know, you must be very excited Miss, it's not every day you meet rockstars, y'know, but really we're-" he kept on rambling as you thought: What the hell are The Beatles.. it sounded vaguely familiar, like you'd heard about it at school once or twice. But since you were kept home so often, you had barely any time at all to worry about what was trending, what with, worrying about your studies and all.
Once he had finished his monologue, the other men seemed to be beaming with pride.
"Er, I'm sorry? I don't know who any of you are.
The tallest of the group opened his eyes wide and whipped his head to look at you.
He seemed ready to repeat his monologue, but the shortest one stepped in,
"Well, we're very famous musicians, see? We're in a band. My name’s Ringo, miss"
Ringo had sad blue eyes, and a large nose, despite being noticeably shorter than the rest of the group, he was still taller than you.
They all began to introduce themselves, that one who wouldn't stop talking, Paul, the creep that you pushed off of you, John, and the skinny, quiet one, George. By now, you'd calmed down.
"Very nice to meet you all, but how, and why, have I been sold?" You turned to face your stepmother.
"Listen darling, you know how it is, we don't have much money like, and this was the only way I could afford our bills, with your father sick, and all of your little siblings to take care of" She seemed to pretend to wipe a tear from her eyes
Your father was in perfect health and you had no younger siblings.
"So, when I saw in the newspaper that The Beatles" She gestured towards them, "needed a housemaid, well, I called immediately! They'll pay me $150 a month!" She smiled at you.
You thought about calling her out, you thought about screaming at her. But you realized anything was better than being ignored in this house. Afterall, these guys seemed rich and nice enough.
You let go of your fists and said, "Fine then. I’ll go”
"Amazing love, and we'd better hurry, we've got shows to go to" Paul reached out a hand to you.
"Uh, but I need to pack-" you stepped back, gesturing toward the stairs.
Your stepmother handed you a small suitcase, "Here, I packed for you"
You looked at the suitcase, then her, without another word you were out the door and now in the hands of 4 men you'd just met, how lovely.