Chapter Text
JUNE 18TH, 1963
A warm early summer morning; Valeria pins her hair back, the loose brown curls billowing down her blouse as she flashes a quick smile to herself in the mirror. Today is an exciting promise- A new job, hopefully a new start. Not that moving to London from a small town in the northeastern USA wasn't enough of a change; she'd had some familial issues that led to her immigration, along with her passion for travel and exploration and of course her studies which she decided to take abroad, but nonetheless she had been excited for this new opportunity ever since she got the chance to become a rising band's assistant manager from some strings she and a mutual friend had pulled. Not that it's entirely important how she got the job, what's important is that she makes a good first impression. It's not like she had an interview for the position as you would for a simple office job, no no, she had to show up to her first studio session completely empty handed. Clasping her simple string of small pearls around her neck, she brushed off her mid length skirt and took a deep breath as she mentally prepared herself. Of course she had heard of the band before, they were gaining a lot of traction over the past few months, and she tends to root for the underdogs either way. Grabbing her handbag and slinging the crossbody onto her shoulder, she took one last look in her vanity mirror, her thick rimmed glasses reflecting the warm sunlight seeping through the sheer curtains of her bedroom window. Passable. She'd never been that great at dolling herself up, but with a few tips from that same mutual friend that landed her this opportunity, she definitely looks put together at least.
The routine of getting to the studio was simple enough- hop on a bus, which frankly she is still amazed by those double decker busses. Two stories on a bus? What a country. Anyways, she catches the bus and finds her way to the studio, walking down a few streets with the smell of morning dew and blossomed flowers mixed with her floral perfume ripe in the air surrounding her. She'd almost enjoy it if she wasn't so nervous. It's not that she'd never had a real job before, being nearly 21 and all, she'd had a few run of the mill market or cashier jobs here and there over summers between semesters. No, she isn't worried about simplistic aspects of the sort, she was more nerve wracked about the fact she'd be working such a high profile gig if you will. Sure, the band isn't exactly world renowned, but she'd heard of them. It's more so that she very well could end up swamped if they do become a huge group. Valeria swallows, her nerves manifesting themselves in the form of a tight throat as she approaches the building. Well, here she is. She pushes her worries aside; it's just a temporary thing until she can get her name out there.
Besides, what are the chances some small-time Liverpool pop band would ever blow up?
She steps into the building, navigating her way through the winding corridors of other bands and artists recording their very own works. She sees some pretty big names, actually- never mind that. She has to focus. Finally, after what seems like hours, she finds the right booth and steps into the studio, the metal handle of the door frigid against her soft hands. There they are; they actually seemed to be procrastinating instead of recording. Her friend had drilled their names into her head, but it's no surprise they'd slipped from her grasp. She remembered the names, she did, but she just couldn't put the names to their faces, they all looked so.. British. Before she could even announce herself, the four turned their heads to look at her- mixed reactions. Mostly intrigued, at least she thinks. She's never been that well versed in reading people.
"Who's this lass? I don't remember calling for an escort." Hmph. Not off to a great start. The only thing keeping her from taking offense is the knowing grin on who she'd learn to be John's face. Brushing it off, she lets out an orchestrated small chuckle as she strides further into the studio with padded noise cancelling walls. "Valeria?" Her voice comes out slightly meek- not exactly shyness, more just her nerves getting the best of her. Not that her stating her name exactly clears up any confusion, but her mind is too balls deep in overdrive to really think that part out. Just as John goes for another quip, he's stopped by the bassist who actually goes to set down his guitar and step towards her.
"Aye, I reckon she's that new assistant manager Brian was chattering on about. Isn't that right?" He rests a gentle hand on her shoulder, offering a charmingly crooked smile- one that seems to both calm her nerves and set them ablaze. She nods softly, letting out yet another chuckle, this one genuine. "Yeah. That's right." He rakes her over with roaming eyes, that same smile morphing into more of a smirk. "Funny accent. You aren't from around here, are ya lass?" Valeria shakes her head, feeling a bit shy under the spotlight. Not to mention two of them are actually pretty cute. Could you blame her for being a bit flushed from the attention of a cute guy with a British accent? "Nope. Just a yank, I'm afraid."
"That's quite lovely, innit? Well, we were just getting started recording. I'll introduce ya to the boys. This here's John," He waves his hand toward the moon faced, frankly ill mannered man with his own cheeky grin. "Don't mind him. He goes a bit mad in the studio. Not much for first impressions either." John cracks his own slick smile, despite his upfront appearance seeming a bit sleazy if you may, yet somehow well adorned. Intriguing. Before he can even get a word in, the cute boy with a light grip on her shoulder cuts in and motions towards the tall, slim one in the corner tuning a guitar between his spread knees. "That one there's George. He's a bit.. quiet, eh George? Always in the corner minding his own. Fortunately not as quiet in the songwriting scene." That teasing tone doesn't fizzle- as a matter of fact, by the little giggle trailing behind his words Valeria's beginning to suspect that's simply apart of his character.
"Piss off, won't ya mate?" George cracks a crooked smirk, glancing up from the pegs of his Gretsch for just a moment before his eyes travel back down to the small metal alloy tuners in between his fingers. Just as quick as he moved on from John, finally, he moves on to the bowl cutted drummer sitting behind the drum set with a bit of a dopey grin. "Ah, this one here's Ringo. Bit of a plonker, but we love em." Valeria chuckles, though Ringo seems a little less amused with his teasing. She offers a greeting to the group, met with polite smiles or waves. She turns on her heel a bit to look up at the man with his hand resting upon her shoulder in a guiding manner with a soft smile herself. "Cheery. I didn't seem to get your name, however." His grin widens, showing a bit more of the slightly crooked teeth nestled underneath his pink lips. "My my, I must be the plonker. Name's Paul. But you can write me in as the sweet one, can't you? I do recall I'm the one who gave you the grand tour." Valeria's own smile curls a bit further, an airy laugh escaping past her parted lips. She's not exactly sure how to respond to that, so she simply nods. "Sure. I guess you're the sweet one, Paul." Paul's gaze wanders over her head to toe for a brief moment, over her soft and curvy form hugged by a snug black dress as if he were taking it all in. The look in his eyes is almost comparable to the glazing look he gets from John. "Hear that, lads? Little miss thinks I'm the sweet one."
"Yeah yeah, ya wanker. Can't we ever get to recording on time? It seems you'd always much rather fancy a lady than our work." John's eyes flickered from his guitar held up to his torso by a fabric strap up to Paul, a quick witted look within his brown irises. Not exactly teasing, but a form of it. "Can't a man appreciate the beauties of life?" Paul is quick to retort, giving Valeria's shoulder an affectionate yet reassuring pat that travels down her bicep in a lingering manner, giving her arm a light squeeze before stepping back over to his bass and slinging the strap over his shoulder. "Not when we've got an album to record, mate. Keep it in your knickers for a few hours, won't ya?" John is just as witted as he's been the whole five minutes Valeria's gotten to know him- while of course that isn't showing of his entire character, she tends to be quite the observer. Something tells her this dynamic going on is only the tip of the iceberg. Valeria reels the band in a bit before they get too carried away, while she does enjoy getting to know them she also knows they've got an album to record. What kind of assistant manager would she be if she let them goof off the entire session?
She's quick to figure out the setup- she's never been the best with technology, but the recording tactics are simplistic enough to grasp easily. Though she must admit, the way technology is progressing is quite astonishing. It seems at this rate we might have little handheld televisions right in our pockets come some time. The session actually flies by quite quickly; given a few technological bumps guided by Paul quick to help her get used to the studio's inner workings. It's quite admirable, really- a man she had just met, a man she's been hired to work underneath, so polite and ready to assist. You don't see that often. Especially not in the UK. Sure, back in the states you'd find men willing to throw their jackets down onto a puddle and risk the integrity of their tailored lapels just to help a lady cross the street with dry pumps, but here? The cultural shift is quite evident. Though now she's unsure if she'd just met some bad apples by the way this one's bending over backwards just to help her figure out an analog tape recorder. A chunk of time passes, with a few side tracked giggle sessions between the actual recording of the few songs they perfected today, which she reeled back in before they got too far off track. For being the only manager on her first day she liked the thought that she did quite a decent job. Right before they were set to record the last take of the night, the four got a bit strayed from the narrative as Valeria fixed a technical mistake she had made. An honest mistake, she hasn't adapted to the routine of rewinding the tapes yet, which unfortunately caused a bit of an issue with the recording but it's nothing she can't fix. While tinkering around with the recorder, getting used to the machine, she really focuses in on the conversation between the band. It seems they're talking about their plans for after the session. Not that she means to eavesdrop- it's just that they're barely ten feet away from her and their mics are still on.
"Paul, I suppose you're still up for a quick swig at the pub after this? It is your birthday after all." George's hair, falling straight down from his scalp onto his face moves from his eyes as he turns his head to talk to the bassist standing at the microphone next to his. Paul lets that signature crooked smile curl his lips again as he chuckles lightly, nodding his head. "I suppose so. Wouldn't be much of a birthday if I didn't celebrate, would it now?" A bustle of tame laughter erupts from the four, and a bit of an unexpected voice pipes up. "Wouldn't it be nice if we had an extra tag along, hm?" Ringo, diddling with his drumsticks as he waits for his cue to lay down the rhythm, speaks with his signature deep octave voice and a smile. A bit of a dopey smile, but charming nonetheless. Paul's smile morphs a bit- as if the mere suggestion brings a flush to his cheeks. "Right. I'm not sure that's appropriate. We just met the bird. Not to mention she likely wouldn't fancy a pint with us." Paul's voice seems to taper off a bit, nearly coy as his eyes flicker from the other's gaze as he speaks. Almost as if he got lost in thought for a moment. "Awe, c'mon. No shame in asking. She might agree." George retorts. Paul seems to consider the thought for a moment, his crooked grin only growing as she chuckles softly. "You ask her then, mate." It seems a mischievous smirk spreads across George's face, and before Paul can insist it was a half-witted joke, the usually reserved Beatle calls out for Valeria's attention which is met with the other two giggling a bit while Paul seems to burn up just slightly. Valeria looks up, her brow raised a bit in both curiosity and surprise that he addressed her directly. She could've sworn he would avoid talking directly to her if he could.
"Fancy a pint with us tonight, miss? It's for Paul's birthday." George's voice is a bit flat- not exactly like he isn't thrilled with the idea of her acceptance, more like he couldn't care either way. Valeria's look of skepticism is likely obvious on her face for a moment, but she smiles. By the way they've been joking and goofing freely all day today? She figures they wouldn't be any other way out of the studio either. "Really? You'd want me to join you for a drink?" Valeria lets out a bit of a chuckle, and when she's met with genuine affirmation from the group, besides Paul who's a bit too coy to show he's more than on board with the idea, she feels a sense of.. comfort. She shrugs, nodding with a widening smile. "Yeah- yeah, sure. Why not?" She nods, tucking a stray curl behind her ear as she feels a bit of a flush rise. It's not that she's flattered that they asked her out for a pint, more-so she's a bit giddy that she actually seems to be liked by the group. She was so nervous for what? When she agrees, she can see the look on Paul's face shift a bit- morphing from a coy look of embarrassment to a warm and bashful, yet still a bit dopey smile. Almost like he's surprised she'd want to meet them out at a pub. Or that he's thinking of the possibilities that could arise from this opportunity- this very well could be a birthday he'd remember for many moons to come. "Really? You've got nothing better to do than go out on the lash with some blokes like us?" Paul's voice reaps a bit teasing, yet still carrying that flushed astonishment that she'd accept their invitation so quickly without as much as a second thought. Valeria smiles, a small laugh escaping past her parted pink lips as she looks up at him through the thin glass separating the recording studio from the mixing studio. "Seems fun. I'd be happy to give you the chance to be accompanied without an hourly rate."
That bit of teasing? It only reels Paul in further- He's not sure what it is, but something about her keeps him drawn in. Perhaps something in the way she moves? He's unsure, but itching to pinpoint what exactly's got him so drawn to her within the first day of meeting this girl. The way she jokes around with them but reels them in when they really need to get back to recording, her shy yet self affirmed demeanor, all of it- it's all he can think about as they begin to finish up their session and record the last bit needed for today. There's a lot he could be thinking of instead; their rising fame, their upcoming album, but no. It's something about her that sticks to his mind and he just can't seem to shake it. As he strums the thick strings of his bass, his melodic voice carrying through the room even without the assistance of his microphone, his eyes meet hers- and they don't break contact, either. As his fingers work, his singing ringing out, his eyes just can't seem to shake hers either through the glass separating them. Maybe he owes George a bit of gratitude for speaking up when he was too pussyfooted to do it himself.