Eppy's Pen

“Heh. Fancy tha’,” McCartney quips, plush lips quirking as they negotiate a cigarette.

Easing back into the chair, he eyes a steaming kettle of coffee at the other end of the table but remains resolute with his chosen vice.

“As I don’t recall this transaction, I’m beginning to think... I may have a double as well!”

“You know, it’s really incredible what these fans think up...”

The idea of James’ manager accompanying him rather surprises Epstein. Dean had said this trip was something of a holiday- so why on earth would the fellow be following him around like a moth to a light? That hardly sounded pleasant at all…

“Now on the subject of your manager, I suppose you ought to tell him that you met a stunning blonde, and she insisted you stay the night.”  A light chuckle. “I don’t suppose most men would argue with that sort of thing, you know.”

A moment of silence, as Brian’s laughter dies off in the night wind. He suddenly grows very serious. “I’ll do everything in my power to ensure that this isn’t a one night endeavor.” He rises to his feet, greeting Dean’s lips with a light kiss on the way up.

Jimmy pinches Brian’s chin between his thumb and forefinger,abandoning their wares as he starts back towards the roof hatch. The actor is soaring, surpassing cloud nine, almost ready to tell his manager to shove it and he’ll return to the states when he’s good and ready. None of these musings are realistic but the rebellion feels good for his claustrophobic spirit.

And then Dean turns suddenly, smirking at Brian before he starts sprinting towards the ledge of the building. With his heart bursting out of his chest, he brushes past the other and clears the edge, dropping a few feet onto the fire-escape below. The kitchen and the ballroom may still be crowded after all; it’s not worth being caught this late in the game. Despite the horror these few initial moments may instill in Epstein, this truly is the safer way back into his hotel room.

“James!”

He rushes forward to the edge of the roof, expecting to see a mangled corpse six stories below. Epstein’s heart is still beating in his ears when he remembers- the fire escape. And there’s James- smiling, safe just 6 feet below, peering up at him.

“You- you nearly gave me a heart attack! Oh god- I thought, I thought you had died!”

After a moment to settle himself, Brian follows Dean onto the fire escape, taking his time to descend the ladder as it was intended. The manager is still a bit shaky from the incident and he wipes his soggy hair out of his face.

     “We will, we will…“ George practically sighs out, giving a dismissive hand-gesture. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, he just didn’t think they had anything to worry about. The band would preform as they always did, and it was bound to make the Americans react the same as everyone else.

     Though, he could tell there was anxiety in Brian just by the use of his words. Hoping to give some aid, he continues on. “Don’t worry, I’m sure the Americans will be pleased. We’ll just do what we always do, yeah?”

Brian smiled. “Ah! Goodness, that does look delicious. Lonnie, if you wouldn’t mind setting it down just there, in the center... you can retire for the night, if you’d like- I really don’t mind cleaning up.”

Wishing the fellow a good night, Epstein stands to cut the roast. But again, he spots the unease in Harrison’s eye.

“The wedding party downstairs would be quite mortified, I should think, if they found out what you were doing with their cake!”

A beat as the young manager studies the man in front of him. Goodness, he really is gorgeous.The light tinge of freckles contrasted with sandy hair- Brian knows he ought to count himself lucky that he at least is able to spend a single evening in the film star’s presence. But in truth- he wants more.

His own finger dips into a mound of butter cream as he ruminates over Brian’s following statements, sucking idly on his digit as he listens. Epstein’s words strike at his core and perhaps if he had indulged in more champagne, he would have suggested running away together. In truth, the thought still crosses his mind but there’s not enough liquid courage in him to allow himself to articulate it. 

“Well…maybe we ought to quit thinkin’ about it,” Dean eventually sighs, his brows drawing into a trademark arch, “and we’ll just promise each other right now that we will  see each other again. How about that? So there won’t be anything to be sad about anymore. And if you don’t mind, I’d like to spend the night. I’ll just drive to the airport tomorrow morning and meet my manager there. Boy, he’s gonna tear me up, haha!”

Suddenly an expression of seriousness dominates his features and he quiets for a moment before his lips part to speak.

The idea of James’ manager accompanying him rather surprises Epstein. Dean had said this trip was something of a holiday- so why on earth would the fellow be following him around like a moth to a light? That hardly sounded pleasant at all...

“Now on the subject of your manager, I suppose you ought to tell him that you met a stunning blonde, and she insisted you stay the night.”  A light chuckle. “I don’t suppose most men would argue with that sort of thing, you know.”

A moment of silence, as Brian’s laughter dies off in the night wind. He suddenly grows very serious. “I’ll do everything in my power to ensure that this isn’t a one night endeavor.” He rises to his feet, greeting Dean’s lips with a light kiss on the way up.

“i’ll do it.”

“please just don’t.”

“i hate you.”

“i love you.”

“you love me?”

“please stop it.”

“i can’t breathe.”

“just go away.”

“you’re an ass.”

“you’re a bitch.”

“don’t leave me!”

“don’t walk away.”

“stay with me.”

“i’m begging you…”

“for fucks sake…”

“clean this up!”

“please kiss me.”

“get off me!”

“you are despicable.”

“are you okay!?”

“don’t do this.”

“please shut up.”

“are you drunk?”

“Now John- I really haven’t the slightest idea. Perhaps you ought to ask someone else…”

“I’m a manager John, not a tour guide. If you’d really like to find out about the clubs here, I’d suggest you speak to that nice young lady who checked us into our rooms. She, I’m sure, would be quite willing to accompany you to any venue of your choosing.”

“And you’re quite sure this will have no… ill effects?”

And… there was one more very important thing to address…

“Bob,” Epstein spoke quietly, pulling the folk singer aside. “This doesn’t react poorly with medication, does it?”

Brian turned to the phone to place their order. A nice Bordeaux, a bottle of Lancers, and a nice cheese plate. Of course, if the boys were able to make it in time, he could always order more. 

“There now, that should be enough, don’t you think?”

A pause.

“Well, essentially yes. There’re many different ways to smoke, ya know. You could use a pipe or a bong, which are more economical but you can’t just bring a pipe or a bong with you everywhere ‘cause they break super easily. They’re usually made of glass you see, so unreliable. Besides, you can roll a joint with any kind of paper. Newspapers, bibles and phone book paper usually work the best. But yeah, you just smoke it like a cigarette,” He explained quickly, shrugging.

“Well if we need any more paper, I have today’s news somewhere around here. After all, I don’t think the hotel would be too pleased with us tearing up their Bible…” 

Brian rubs his eyes, trying to rid himself of the strange taste. “Goodness, that’s not particularly pleasant, is it?”

Brian seats himself next to the other shaking his head. “Well, I’m sure you’d make quite the matador. And you never know, someday perhaps my little shop will afford me so much money, that I’ll be able to holiday in America! ”

He glances down at the pastry between them. The cake looks quite tasty, the bride and groom clearly spared no expense on their guests.

“Well, in essence it is just a regular cake. It’s the sentiment that makes it a special treat, you know, the fact that two people have been brought together to share in a special day…”

He trails off, voice wavering ever so slightly. Without a second thought, Epstein reaches towards the cake and scoops off a portion of the icing with one finger, bringing it to his own mouth.

This is a tragically shallow thought not even he has the gall to share; but somehow what’s transpiring on this rooftop seems more natural and raw that the on-goings in the ballroom. And perhaps it is merely jealousy and resentment for structure he could never maintain. As hopeless of a romantic as he is, Dean is also quite cynical of love and all of the formalities…and how rigid its standards seem, even in America.

“Yeah- yeah I guess so,” Dean chuckles timidly, far more interested in the digit betwixt Brian’s lips.

“The wedding party downstairs would be quite mortified, I should think, if they found out what you were doing with their cake!”

A beat as the young manager studies the man in front of him. Goodness, he really is gorgeous.The light tinge of freckles contrasted with sandy hair- Brian knows he ought to count himself lucky that he at least is able to spend a single evening in the film star’s presence. But in truth- he wants more.