Live Aid

by Slippy_9

Summary:

Y/N has their hands full managing two of the biggest pop/rock bands in English history, and in a few days both bands will be preforming at the largest live charity event the world has ever seen; Live Aid. Caught Between a love triangle and cheating scandal, they have to save the show (and the world) from an asteroid hurdling towards Earth that only David Bowie (who is nowhere to be found) can stop.

Notes:

This is all 100% accurate. I should know, I was there. this is an Autobiography.

This is also 100% NOT satire. everything written here is completely serious. Please excuse any inconsistencies, I have three whole people writing this thing, and none of us have any prior experience with fan fiction.

New chapter every Wednesday

Chapter 1: let It Be

Y/N rubs the sleepiness from their eyes as they crawl out of their small English bed, casting a sideways glance at the beeping clock on their nightstand. They gaze outside, the sun still hasn’t risen. Not that it would matter, England was just as dreadful at night as it was in the morning. Despite being summer, the sky was almost always grey and cloudy, classic Liverpool weather. Y/N sighs as they fall out of bed and drag a comb across their head. They had been living in Liverpool for three long years and recently got an offer to manage both The Beatles and Queen. The only issue? Both bands absolutely despised each other.

Y/N yawns as they finish their breakfast and climb into their car. Within an hour they reach Abbey Road Studio. Y/N gazes out of the car at the pink morning sky, it was quite pretty, even though it was English. They park, grab their things, and walk up the steps of the recording studio.

“God you’re such a drag!” George shouted.
“You know what’s a drag? Your last bloody single!” Paul retorted.
“Fellas! Fellas! Can we sit down and talk about this? Live Aid is in two bloody days and this is how we’re deciding to spend our time? Arguing over the damned setlist we were supposed to have done last Tuesday?” spoke Ringo, who is currently hiding behind his drum set to hopefully dodge the pencil Paul is aiming to throw at George.
In two days the Beatles will perform at Live Aid, one of the biggest live charity events yet, and they can’t decide whether to perform “I Want to Hold Your Hand” or “Here Comes the Sun.” They’ve been dodging the setlist for weeks now and today is the day they must submit it.
“Well,” George Started, “Here Comes the Sun is one of our best when it comes to lyrics and it’s a charity event. Think about it, “Here comes the sun” like a new beginning for the kids in Africa.” All of a sudden he feels a pencil hit his head. Pretty hard too.
“Of course you would say that. You wrote the bloody song!” Paul said smugly after realizing his pencil hit George right between the eyes, “Plus, “I Want to Hold Your Hand” is a classic.”
George scoffed, “So much for no bias.”
“You wanna say that again?”
The two musicians are face to face, only inches apart. Paul grips George’s blouse and Ringo still hides behind the drums like a coward. Just as Paul pulls back his hand, John walks in with Y/N, the band’s manager.
(in spanish) “Yeah, and then he had the audacity to-” John stops, He and Y/N stand baffled at the scene erupting in front of them. Paul still has his hand back ready to punch and hesitates to put it down. (in spanish) “What in the actual hell is happening?” John asks the room.
“We were just deciding the set list.” Paul looks at George and then at his fist, deciding to let it fall to his side and let George go. He had accidentally stretched George’s blouse a bit.
(In spanish) “God, what are we? Animals?” John asks.
“I thought beetles were a type of bug?” Ringo squeaks from behind the drums. Everyone pauses and stares over at him and then back to the scene.
(In spanish) “Will anyone really care what we play?” John walks over to the microphone and plays with his collar a bit, “Besides, “I Am the Walrus” is clearly our best song.” Both Paul and George throw a pencil at him for the comment. Wah-bam!
Y/N sits quietly on a chair. In the most angelic, distinguished voice, “Let it be… let it be…”
The band stops speaking and looks over at their manager. Ringo peeks out behind his drum set, “Woah… did you write that? I didn’t know our very own manager could sing.”
Y/N smirks a bit, “Haha, yeah..” They lower their head bashfully, “it’s…not that good” The band looks at each other and nods their heads. Y/N sits there confused, “I mean it’s not finished.” The members smile , “No, guys, like I just started humming some random ass tune and let it be came to mind. I just thought of it.”
John throws Y/N a mic, (in spanish) “I think we have our song.”

…

About an hour later, they’re in the middle of recording the single when Y/N looks at their watch, “Gotta go boys, I’ll come by later to finish the tune.”
The band looks up from what they're doing and gives Y/N a frown.
John speaks to Y/N through the mic in the booth, (in spanish) “Sorry, it sounded like you said you were leaving in the middle of recording. Can you repeat that?”
Y/N turns red, “I know, I know. I swear I’ll go easier on you guys when you have something going on, but this is important, I swear.” Y/N crosses their heart, “Plus, I’ll be back before dinner.”
The band gives each other a look and John turns on the mic again, (in spanish) “Ok, you’re free to go, but you HAVE to bring in the coffee next time.” The whole band clearly agrees, but their talking is muffled behind the glass.
Y/N, noticeably in a rush, hurries out the studio’s door and starts their car. They’re sitting in the front seat looking through papers in their bag when Ringo walks out of the studio and notices Y/N still in their car.
“Hey! Whatcha still doing here? Thought you had something really important going on.” Ringo grabs the mail from the studio’s mailbox and walks over to Y/N’s car.
“I just had to fill out some paperwork for you guys since no one seems to get anything done,” Y/N, clearly busy, shuffles through their papers, not looking at Ringo.
Ringo rests his head on the car’s open window and, looking quite bored, reads each letter and quietly says, “Fan mail, taxes, fan mail, letter from a mom…” for every piece of mail. After going through all the mail, Ringo looks up at Y/N with a grin. “Coming back around dinner, right?”
Y/N doesn’t look up from their work, but instead starts writing numbers down which Ringo has no idea what they are for, “Right’o,” Y/N says unenthusiastically.
Ringo drags his finger across the door from side to side, “So… would that mean you’re free for dinner?”
Y/N peers over at Ringo who is watching his own finger run across the door, “Yes, unless something comes up.” Instead of lingering the eye contact, Y/N looks back at their papers.
“Do you wanna get some grub with me then after recording?” Ringo stops dragging his finger and looks up at Y/N, hopeful.
“Sure.”
“REALLY?” Ringo straightens up and hits his head on the top of the car door. He announces his pain and starts to rub the now forming bruise.
“Sure, why not? You’re paying, I’m assuming?”
“Of course. It wouldn’t be very gentlemanly if I didn’t.” Ringo blushes and looks down at his feet, flustered.
“I really gotta go now, but I’m looking forward to dinner with you. It’s good we can hang out together. See ya later.” Y/N pulls out of the parking spot while waving goodbye to Ringo.
Ringo watches silently as the Tesla Cyber Truck pulls away, full of excitement for the night to come. He gives a good, “Haha, yeah.” before walking back into the studio.

Chapter 2: Long Live the Queen

Notes:

Mark your calendars, new chapters come out every Wednesday.

Y/N pulls into a parking lot and runs into the building. They burst into the recording studio “Sorry I’m late!” they wheeze, bending over to catch their breath.
“It’s ok man.” Roger says coolly from across the room. Roger flipped his long golden hair out of his beautiful face. What y/n wouldn’t give to get their hands on that sweet, sweet bod. They had always been a sucker for hot blond babes. Y/n smiles and glances down at their shoes, feeling flustered.
"Guys! Are we going to get to work or not?" Brian chimes in.
Y/N looks up, "You're right. Have you guys decided on the set list yet?"
"No! That's why we need to focus!" Brian exclaims, he’s clearly annoyed by the lack of productivity. It’s amazing how helpless famous people were without their managers.

Y/n chuckles to themself. “It feels like I’m having Deja vu” they whisper under their breath.
“What was that?” Deacy questions.
“Anyways,” Y/N starts, “How about something simple like “We Will Rock You” first or like “Bohemian Rhapsody” for a grand finale?” They sit down in a zebra skin chair and listen as the band goes back and forth on the matter. They look around the room and ask, “Where’s Freddie anyway? I know he’d have an idea.”
The band looks over at Y/N and then eye each other. Deacon finally steps up to tell Y/N. “He’s in one of his… moods…”

Y/N just nods their head. They know exactly what that means. Freddie can be… difficult at times and even seems like a different person when he gets like this. He has what they call a split personality disorder. Sometimes he’s Freddie, but other times, he calls himself Freaky Freddie. When he’s Freaky Freddie, he can be touchy, rude, overly dramatic, and generally an annoying bratty drama queen. He decided to isolate himself from the world when he got like this. He never wants the concert of ‘76 to ever happen again.

Y/N sits back and enjoys the band (minus Freddie) as they rehearse, practicing for a good hour and contemplating which songs they should choose for the concert. Y/N has known Queen longer than they’ve known the Beatles. Even though the Beatles have been around longer, Y/N was able to meet Queen at the first-ever gig they performed in America. Y/N had grown up in Indiana, so finding this crazy amazing british rock band perform in their small town changed their dreams forever. Before Queen, they wanted to be a musician, but after, they realized just hanging out with them was so much easier.

The band had a pretty concrete list of songs and was enjoying experimenting with different ideas when the studio door burst open.
“Ok, I’ve got it!” Freddie shouts as he struts past Y/N, shoving the list of songs in the other members’ faces. “You, Brian, will perform “Who Wants to Live Forever” and then we all come in and perform “Bohemian Rhapsody” and then you, Deacy darling, you will-”
“We’ve already got the list Fred,” Deacon looks up from the paper they had written the songs on, “We did it while you were away.”
Freddie looks around the room and lowers the list to his chest. He looks down, dejected, “Oh, yeah, that makes sense,” he says with an unenthusiastic smile, “It’d be stupid not to get it done, even if you did it without me.”
“Oh come on, don't be like that. You know we all love you, Fred.” Deacon chimes in, placing a reassuring hand on Freddie's shoulder.
Fred looks up at his bandmate. Realizing how awkward the situation has gotten, Deacon quickly lowers his hand and bashfully goes back to practicing bass. “So what do we have?” Freddie perks up a bit, walking over to Brian.
“Y/N has the list, actually,” Brian gestures over at Y/N, who has a piece of paper sitting in their lap.
“Of course!” Freddie exclaims, “Oh my heavens, how could I forget about you, my little angel.” Freddie tries to squeeze himself into the small leather chair Y/N is sitting in, but it’s a little too tight, so instead he grabs the paper and starts to read off the names as the band listens.

Y/N sighs and glances down at their watch. Almost time for their next appointment. They really need to stop booking meetings with all of their bands on the same day.

You might be wondering why Y/N manages multiple bands at once. Well, when they started managing the Beatles, they were getting paid big time. They ate like a king and could buy whatever their devious little heart desired, but one day, they got a look at the Tesla Cyber Truck. Elon got them hooked. The car’s slick design and titanium metal outside was too good to be true. They ran to buy one, but something went wrong. Y/N got their car, but they had to pay it off eventually. The monthly pay for the car turned out to be the exact amount of their monthly pay as a manager for the Beatles. They had to sell their house and move into a dingy studio apartment to pay off their debt.

Their phone chirps, shaking them out of their daydream. Y/N checks their watch, their next appointment is in 15 minutes. “Sorry fellas, but I gotta go,” they state, pulling themself out of the chair.

“Go? But you’ve only just got here!” says Brian who, up until very recently, had been very quiet. He jumps up off the floor with a huff “You’re always in a rush. What's up with that?” He marches up to Y/N, jabbing an accusatory finger in their face.
“Wh- nothing? I just have lots of things to do.” Y/N stammers, throwing their hands up in the air. “It’s hard work being the manager of Queen, you know.”
“Yeah Brian, lay off. They probably have scheduled meetings to go to or whatever.” Roger chimes in, casting a sympathetic glance at Y/N.
Brian mutters something under his breath, which Y/N assumes to be an apology. They smile bashfully at Roger, who merely nods and continues practicing his drum solo.
Y/N leaves the recording studio. They walk out to their tesla cyber truck that is parked outside. They drive away.

…

“I'm back guys!” Y/N announces as they rush back into the Beatles recording studio.
The band looks up at y/n.
(in spanish) “Took you long enough” Lennon says through the mic in the recording booth.
While John fidgets with the buttons and dials connecting to the box, Paul gets his guitar plugged in and George follows. Y/N sits on the seat right under the mic and looks around.
“Where’s Ringo?” Y/N asks through the mic.
“He was babbling about having to meet this bloke for dinner. He wanted to stay home and get ready or something.” Paul looked up from his guitar grinning.
Embarrassed, Y/N looks down and kicks their feet on the seat. Y/N knows Ringo has a massive crush on them, but they couldn’t feel any differently towards Ringo. Ringo had always felt like a silly little brother to them.
(In spanish) “We’re all set!” Lennon shouts from behind the mic. He counts Y/N in and they record their soon-to-be #1 hit “Let it Be”.

Chapter 3: Cracker Barrel

Notes:

Guh

TW: slurs

The Tesla Cyber Truck pulls into the Cracker Barrel, the setting sun shimmering off its silky metal frame. Y/N hadn’t realized there was such a thing as a Cracker Barrel in the UK, but Ringo found one for them. Y/N, being from the US, was used to being treated differently, but being invited to a Cracker Barrel was a first. Usually most Brits insult their intelligence and the safety of their public high schools.
Y/N walks through the doors and looks around for their table. The restaurant was packed full, each table hosting a plethora of authentic American cuisine. Y/N looks around for Ringo’s familiar sad eyes, but he is nowhere to be found. They frown, had he not shown up? Suddenly, they saw a little hand waving over to them from the top of the booth dividers. Y/N rolls their eyes and strolls over to him.
“I’m so glad you could make it!” He grins. He gestures to the seat in front of him for Y/N to sit down, “Sorry I missed the recording. I just didn’t know what to wear, ya know?”
“Yeah, clothes can be so difficult,” Y/N smiles and sits down, “Anyways, a Cracker Barrel?”
Ringo looks up from his menu and frowns, “Why? Do you not like Cracker Barrel? I thought all Americans ate Cracker Barrel…”
Y/N gives him a reassuring laugh, “No! No, it just surprised me you knew what that was in the first place.” they place a hand on Ringo’s, “It’s just nice you think about me.”
Ringo blushes from ear to ear and starts to lean closer to Y/N.
Y/N pulls their hand back and picks up the menu, “So what were you thinking for dinner?” They really made a big mistake. They swear the gesture was on friendly terms, but Ringo one hundred percent took it in a romantic way. “I was thinking of fried chicken. That’s a favorite of mine actually. Ooh, the french toast looks great though.”
Ringo, still leaning forward, stays in that position for a minute while Y/N hides behind the menu. Embarrassed, he slowly leans back into the seat and lifts up the menu to cover his own blushing face.
The waitress, a six-foot-eight hunk of a woman, comes bounding towards the table to take their orders. Both of them still have their faces completely covered. The waitress wasn’t sure if she should disrupt whatever’s happening. In a horrendous country accent she asks, “Do y'all know what’cha want?” Ringo jumps in his seat and coughs awkwardly. Y/N has to hold back their laughter at the ridiculous accent.
“Uh, can I get blueberry pancakes and uh..orange juice?” he stutters, glancing over at Y/N. The waitress raises an eyebrow, “We usually only offer that with breakfast, but alright.”
“Could I get the french toast with orange juice too?”
“You two really love breakfast…” The waitress says with a slightly judgemental tone and writes the orders down. The waitress looks up from her pad of paper and then at Ringo. “Wait… are you?”
Ringo looks up at her from his menu, “Haha, yeh.” Ringo looks at Y/N and smirks hoping Y/N would be impressed by this exchange. Y/N shows no interest, however.
She tossed her golden curls out of her face, a small blush on her cheeks. She giggles. “I’ve been listening to you guys ever since you played at Worcestershire in ‘76. God, you were so dreamy that day.” She pauses, a pungent silence filling the room. “Oh, sorry, that was a little too much.” The table sits in silence for a bit, “I’m gonna go put these in.”
Ringo watches as the lady scuttles away and grins at Y/N, “That was weird.”
Y/N acts like Ringo isn’t trying to impress them and tries to move on to another topic, but Ringo stops them.
“Haha. sorry about all that. It's hard being famous sometimes.” Ringo says, “You know…a lot of girls would do anything to be in your position.”
“What do you mean?” Y/N’s face is full of confusion.
Ringo laughs before stating. “What I mean is. You're so lucky to be going on a date with a superstar.” Y/n laughs thinking that Ringo is just trying to make a joke.
“Yeah, for sure.” they say sarcastically.
“Anyway…did you hear that Queen is going to play at Live Aid the same day as us?” Ringo sighs, clearly annoyed by the idea of having to interact with the members of the other band.
“Tell me again. Why do you hate Queen so much?” Y/N asks.
“Well…in 1976 we were planning to play with Queen for a huge crowd. We weren't aware of Freddie Mercury's condition. He started to act crazy. He was trying to touch me and said he was going to shove my drumstick up my bum. He kept humping John. he kept making sexual remarks about Paul. He and George had sex…. It was a disaster.” Ringo shudders and clears his throat. “I try not to think about it…”
Y/N gives him a blank stare. “...They did the devil’s tango?”
Ringo dramatically looks away with one hand out like he was pushing Y/N away with one hand covering his face. “Like I said. I try not to think about it.”
Y/N rolls their eyes and starts, “Well, they’re still a great band if you ask me. Hell, Bohemian Rhapsody will go down in history.”
Ringo looks annoyed, “Whatever you say, I guess. I still don’t like them one bit. Those fags.” he sighs and smiles at somebody approaching.
“Here’s y'all's food!” The waitress drops off Ringo’s pancakes like she was placing a crown on a queen. She giggles at Ringo and winks at him. She turns to Y/N and rudely drops down their plate of food. Y/N gives her a nasty side eye as the waitress walks away making the “call me” hand motion to Ringo.
Ringo looks down and sees a number written on a napkin. He smirks a bit at this and then looks up at Y/N who is snarling in the waitress’ direction.
“Jealous?” Ringo chimes in. His head on his hands like a little school boy grinning from ear to ear.
Y/N, in between bites of french toast, “No! I just can’t handle people who act like total assholes for no reason.” They roll their eyes and scoff. “It’s totally unnecessary.”
Ringo eats a couple of bites of his food and starts talking with his mouth full, “So… anybody catching your eye?”
Y/N looks confuzzled. They raise an eyebrow, “Huh?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Just trying to make conversation is all.” Ringo keeps eating his pancakes and chugging his juice while Y/N slowly chews on their french toast and sips their orange juice. Ringo keeps bugging Y/N despite the silence, “I mean-” Ringo flings his fork around, “Is there a certain Beatle you like best?” Ringo swallows a huge bite that almost muffled his words.
Y/N looks up from their plate, “Uhm… no, not really.” They immediately go back to chewing.
Ringo, let down, stares at Y/N for a bit before going back to chewing. They sit in a very awkward silence now just chewing their food when Ringo begins, “Someone has certainly caught my eye.”
Y/N keeps chewing, “Yeah? Who?”
Ringo puts down everything he’s doing as he says, “You know them very well.” He starts to grin hoping they got the hint.
Y/N knows exactly what he means, but doesn’t want him to keep going, “That’s nice.” Ringo is still grinning as he takes another bite. He believes Y/N might like him back. Y/N hopes he got the message.
Time passes, and Y/N takes their last bite. Ringo scoffed down his last one about five minutes after they got their meal.
“So…how’d you like your dinner?” Ringo asks, leaning over his plate. “It was pretty good.” Y/N responds, fidgeting with the hem of their shirt. In a few moments, the waitress returns with the check. Ringo pulls out his wallet, notices how empty it is, and looks at Y/N. “you’re cool with paying, right?” Y/N rolls their eyes and pays for their meal. “Thank you for having dinner with me, babe.” he winks.

…

Ringo and Y/N stand outside of the Cracker Barrel.
Ringo looks over at Y/N, “So. Are we going to your flat or mine?” Y/n looks at Ringo, a bit confused. ”Well, It's getting late. I think I'll just go home. besides, I have something going on early in the morning.”
“Oh. well goodnight then.” Ringo says. It's clear he’s quite disappointed that Y/N is leaving so early. Y/N wraps their arms around Ringo and he, surprised, gladly obliges. He hugs them back, he tries to nuzzle his head into their shoulder. Y/N lets go of him and gives him an uncomfortable smile. “I guess you better go.” Ringo looks off into the distance and then back at Y/N. He leans closer to them. Y/N wasn’t paying attention when suddenly, Ringo grabs their face and pulls them close, attempting to kiss them.
They slap Ringo out of surprise and immediately cover their mouth with their hands, “Oh my God! I’m- I’m so sorry. I just wasn’t expecting that! Are you ok?”
Ringo places a hand on his cheek, eyes welling up with tears. He looks down at Y/N, “W-what was that for! We were having such a good time!” he exclaims.
Y/N puts a hand on Ringo’s shoulder and looks him in the eyes, “We were, but just not like that. You’re a really good friend and I wouldn’t want anything to change. I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was leading you on.”
“Wait…you don't have romantic feelings for me? But…but I’m famous!”
Y/N sighs,“I’m sorry Ringo, but I don’t like you like that. We should keep it professional.” Y/N says, lowering their head. “I should go” They climb into their Tesla cyber truck, the sleek futuristic design and rectangular fucking steering wheel shimmering under the moonlight.

The drive back to their apartment was abysmal, down right horrible, not only are they stressed about Live Aid,but now they feel like living human garbage for absolutely destroying Ringo’s self-esteem. By the time they finally arrived at their apartment it was completely black outside, the moon barely visible through the thick clouds. Y/N gets out of their Cybertruck and slams the door shut. They make their way up the broken stairs of the complex, casting a sideways glance behind them. Ever since they got that cybertruck they had to live in the shittiest place in town. They fumble for their keys and notice a red piece of paper dangling from the door. They rip it off and read it over. Y/N sighs, it’s an eviction notice. They must've forgotten to pay their bills. Y/N sighs as they remember their luxurious estate they had back in the US.

They swing open the chipped white door and flick the lights on, the yellow fluorescent light illuminating the cramped interior. It was a decent enough place if you could ignore the rowdy neighbors, leaky pipes, and horrendous purple floral wallpaper. Y/N flings off their shoes and collapses onto their saggy yellow couch. They sigh, thinking of Ringo. He’ll be alright, he’s a fully grown adult. Besides, he could have any girl he wants, he’s a freaking Beatle, after all.

Chapter 4: Rejected?

Notes:

I’m so sorry to all 16 of our adoring fans. The other collaborators told me to post and I deadass forgot.
Tw: slurs and lots of internalized homophobia.

Ringo throws himself into his bed crying, gripping a bottle of booze. He lays on his back and throws the bottle against his wall. The bottle shatters, spilling on the floor and seeping into the carpet.

“Why don’t they love me? What’s not to love? I’m famous, I’ve got money, I can play the drums.” Ringo bawls, “It’s ‘cause I’m ugly isn’t it? I’ve got a big bloody nose!” Too caught up in his fit of self-loathing he fails to notice a faint knock at the door. He wipes his snot covered nose and takes another gulp of beer. He jumps as a second knock echoes through his flat.

“Who is it?” he shouts from his bed.
“It’s me, George! You left your jacket in the recording studio. I came to bring it back to you.” Ringo wipes his tears and stumbles over to the door. He flings it open, wobbling back and forth. “Oh…thanks mate.” he slurs, grabbing the jacket from George.
“Hey…are you alright?” George asks, placing a hand on the door.
“I’m fine…” Ringo blurts out “fuck off.” he stumbles away.
“Hey wait– have you been drinking?” George asks, his face full of concern.
“Only a little bit.” Ringo's words are slurred. George sighs. He doesn't know what is wrong with Ringo; all he knows is that he needs to stay and take care of him.
“Come on mate, I can see the empty bottles. You've got vomit all over yourself, man you smell like shit." George says as he walks into Ringo's flat.
“Why don’t we sit down and you tell me what happened, ok?” George grabs Ringo by the shoulders and leads him to the couch. He sits right next to Ringo and puts a hand on his back.
“Now, what happened?” Ringo didn't answer; he just stared down at his shoes. “I'm an idiot. I can't do anything right!” he cried.
“What are you talking about? Where’s this all coming from?” George pats Ringo's back trying to comfort him.
“I'm an idiot!” Ringo cries out “I thought that they liked me. I tried to kiss them, and then they slapped me. I feel so stupid!”
“Whoa, man calm down. You're talking about Y/N, right?” George looks at Ringo.
“Yes!” He lets his head fall into his hands. “It's not just them, though. Nobody likes me! Everyone hates me.” Ringo’s words slur out, shaking his head.
“That's not true, Ringo, lots of people like you. I like you,” George says, his cheeks flushing slightly from his words.
“That’s fucking bullshit!” Ringo exclaims, grabbing a beer from the floor and drinking it in one gulp. “It’s ‘cuz of my nose. I know it.” he sighs.
“That's not true. C’mon man. You need to go to bed.” he raises an eyebrow, glancing down at Ringo's vomit-covered shirt. “And new clothes.” He stands up and hauls Ringo off the couch. Ringo slouches against him, his head on George's shoulder. George’s heart flutters as he drags Ringo into his bedroom, kicking away the empty beer bottles that littered his floor. He watches as he collapses onto the bed and mumbles something incoherently. He reaches over to unbutton Ringo’s shirt.

“God, you’re filthy…” George mumbles as he looks around the floor for a clean shirt. “Here. sit up so I can get this off you.” Ringo sits up straighter, groaning. George sighs as he pulls off the filthy shirt. “Don’t you have any clean clothes?” He asks, looking around at the disgusting bedroom floor. The carpet was completely covered in bottles, trash, and dirty clothes. George sighs, taking off his own shirt and handing it to Ringo. Ringo slumps forward as George sits on the bed. He begins to fall off the bed, but George catches his fall. Ringo places his head on his shoulder, his arms wrapped around his waist
“Thank you..” Ringo mumbles, looking up at George with half-lidded eyes.
“What for?” He asks, giving a heartfelt chuckle.
“For being a good mate. I love you, man.” He hugs George a bit tighter, nuzzling his head into his chest. George’s heart flutters, he places a hand behind Ringos’ head. Ringo laughs, “why’s your heart beating so fast, it sounds like you’re having a heart attack!”
George blushes, pushing him away. “I need to go. It’s getting late.”
Ringo looks up, distraught. “What? Why can’t you stay?” He holds George closer. “Stay for the night…please. I don’t want to be alone tonight” George’s mind is conflicted, he wants to stay with Ringo, but he also feels weird about Ringo being drunk.
George sighs “yeah. Ok I’ll stay. But just because I don’t trust you to be alone right now.” Ringo tries to get George to lay down on the bed
“I only have one bed” Ringo says
“That’s ok. I’ll just sleep on the couch.” George starts to walk off into the living room. Ringo calls to George “wait- sleep in here. I have a blow up mattress in my closet.
Please sleep in here with me, I don’t trust myself when I’m not with you.”
George hesitates before walking over to Ringo’s closet and grabbing the blow up mattress. After inflating it he lays it right next to Ringo’s bed. George lays down in it. “We should really get some rest. Goodnight Ringo”
“Wait, George. Come close, I need to tell you something” George sits up and kneels close to Ringo’s bed.
“Yes, Ringo? What is it.” Ringo leans in close to George’s face. Without warning, Ringo places a kiss on George’s cheek. George blushes from this sudden action.
He sighs, “goodnight Ringo,” He lays back down and pulls the covers over his face.

…

The sun rises over Ringo’s flat while the two Bandmates slowly fall out of slumber. George stretches his hands above him and yawns while Ringo starts to open his eyes.
“Morning, mate.” He says while getting up from the floor to greet Ringo’s tired eyes.
“Morning, George.” Ringo yawns. He smiles a bit at him and then looks down at the shirt he’s wearing. It’s not his, “George? What happened last night?”
George blushes a bit, “Well, you went on a bit of a drinking spree and I came over with your jacket and things just kind of happened.”
Ringo’s eyes get wide as he notices George’s shirt is off, “George, mate, Actually tell me what happened last night.”
George smiles, confused, and points at Ringo’s shirt, “Nice shirt.” He giggles on his way to grab coffee.
Ringo flies off the bed and grabs George by the shoulders, “WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT? Why am I wearing your bloody shirt? IM NOT A FUCKING FAG.”
George throws Ringo’s hands off him, “Woah, woah, woah, Ringo. I never said that mate. I just let you borrow my shirt is all.”
Ringo calms down a bit and takes a deep breath, “Just, just tell me what happened,” he put one hand over his head and looked up at George, “I swear I won’t get mad.”
George grabs a cup of coffee and sips it, “Well, first off, I took it the date between you and Y/N didn’t go as planned, so I thought you needed comforting. You actually begged me to stay, so like the great friend I am, I did just that.” He smiles while sipping the cup, “You promise you won’t get mad?” He raises an eyebrow.
Ringo looks up from under his hand, “I don’t fucking care anymore, I just need Asprin.” He walks over to the cabinet and grabs a bottle.
“Well,” George starts, “You kissed me goodnight.”
Ringo spits out the pills and slowly looks over at George, “I… what?”
George laughs a bit, “Yeah, not a bad one either…”
Ringo blushes at this comment but throws down another two pills, “Well, don’t expect that to be a common thing I do.” Ringo raises an eyebrow at George.
George shrugs his shoulders and takes another sip, “Wouldn’t mind that…”
The room goes silent.
“I’m not gay, George.” Ringo slams down the pill bottle.
George walks over to Ringo and places a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “It’s ok, Ringo. I didn’t believe it either. It took me a long time to come to terms with it.”
Ringo, furious, stares at George’s hand and then into his eyes. He inches towards George’s face.
George smiles at Ringo’s lips and then looks into his eyes, “Get the fuck out of my flat,” Ringo whispers and then disappears into his room.
George, standing awkwardly, takes his stuff and heads through the door.
Right before he shuts the door, George shouts, “I know you’re gay! You know you’re gay! You better give me my gay ass shirt back!” He slams the door and storms down the hall, still completely shirtless.

Chapter 5: The Ritz

Notes:

Sorry for the short chapter! The co-creators and I are on a vacation

While Ringo and George were fighting, Y/N was driving to meet David Bowie and Mick Jagger at the Ritz for breakfast. Bowie and Jagger have been dating for a couple of years and are getting serious. Y/N and Bowie have been friends for a while, and he wanted to discuss Live Aid which he’ll be performing at.

Unlike Bowie, who is ecstatic, Y/N is very anxious for Live Aid. If the show doesn’t go well, their career would be over. Plus, since they’re managing two bands, the risk has been doubled. Completely crushing Ringo’s feelings also didn’t help Y/N’s anxiety for the next day since Ringo does not take rejection well. Y/N shudders as they remember a time when Ringo locked himself in his room for a week because a girl dumped him. They sigh, pulling into the parking lot of the Ritz.

Y/N looks up at the luxurious building in front of them. They give an audible gasp, ignoring the chauffeur who keeps giving them dirty looks. They walk inside and are shown to a table where two men were sitting. The blond one was wearing a button-up blouse with bell bottoms and high heeled boots. The other, wearing a half unbuttoned shirt and straight-legged jeans with flat brown shoes.

“David! Mick!” Y/N kisses both of them on the cheek and the waiter pushes in their chair for them.
“Y/N! So glad you could make it. God, it’s been ages.” David gestures to the waiter to order Y/N a mimosa. “Anyways, how's it been?”
“Great!” Y/N smiles at the two.
Bowie gives Y/N a look, “Great? Doesn’t sound like you. How are you actually feeling?”

Y/N drops the smile and leans back giving a loud grunt, “Terrible…” They throw their head on the table and talk through their hands, “Live Aid is tomorrow and both of the bands I’m managing just had their set list done yesterday. Not to mention, I have to SING with the Beatles because we just recorded this new track.” they scoff, “Oh, yeah, I basically crushed Ringo’s self-esteem by telling him I don’t want to date him.”

Bowie and Mick Jagger stare at Y/N for a moment, then turn to each other. Mick Jagger opens his mouth, “Well, don’t look at the bad side. You’re managing two amazing bands. I bet they’ll have everything together by tomorrow. Besides, Ringo will get over it.”

“But rejection wreaks havoc with his drum skills! That’s literally a quote from his mouth.” Y/N picks up their head to sip their mimosa with a silly straw and then places their head back down.
“Don’t worry about that, darling,” Bowie says while pushing Y/N’s head back up, “Just enjoy your mimosa and think about Queen.” He smiles at Y/N, “You’ll get to have a one on one with Roger, right?” He says suggestively.
Mick Jagger shoots David a quick look and then back at his own drink.

Y/N’s stares at David, “What? Why?”
David laughs, “Remember? Freddie and everyone else will be performing without the drums in the beginning to give the song an acapella feel. Roger will have a bit more time to get ready before the show.”

Y/N’s face grows red, “Why do I need to have a one-on-one with Roger? Can’t he get ready by himself?”
“I thought you should have a nice conversation with him before the show. I know I would if I could.” David blushes and glances at Jagger, “Roger is such a looker.” Jagger returns the smirk and gives Bowie a slight shove with his shoulder.
Y/N giggles and looks down at the half empty drink, “I guess talking to him wouldn’t be bad.” They start to turn red, “I don’t know how to talk to hot people though!”
David and Jagger frown at them, “You’re talking to two incredibly attractive people right now,” Jagger interrupts.

“You guys know what I mean! What if I say something stupid like, ‘Nice hair! Can I have some?’ or like, ‘Hey girl, do the curtains match the drapes?’ God I’m gonna make a fool out of myself!”
The couple sits there, stunned. “Just… don’t be a creep,” Jagger sips his tea.
Y/N nods their head, sips the mimosa, and rolls their eyes, “Good advice, Mick.” They finish the drink and swirl the cup around, “Are you guys ready for Live Aid, though? I’m sure it's been stressful.” They ask.
Jagger casts a worried look at Bowie, “Well..” Bowie starts, lowering his voice and leaning toward Y/N. “I’ve been trying to ignore it, but I’m pretty sure
these two girls are stalking me.”

Y/N gasps. “What! You’re being stalked! By who?”
Jagger shushes them before continuing, “It’s nothing, really.” he places a reassuring hand on Bowie’s shoulder. “I’m sure It’s just some overzealous fans. But we’ve updated our home security just in case.”
“Home security? Does that mean you two are living together now?” Y/N smiles. Bowie giggles and nods.
“That's awesome! Thinking about tying the knot soon then?”
David looks over at Jagger and blushes, “Well…”
Bowie gets up, kisses Jagger on the head, and then kneels in front of him. Jagger’s eyes widen and he turns red. Bowie pulls out a little box, “Mick… will you make my life complete…” He flings the box open, revealing a stunning, diamond ring, “By becoming… my… husband?”

Mick looks around the room while everyone stares in anticipation, “I…” He looks down at Bowie. “I…” He stammers, sweat forming on his brow. Staring down at David, he tears up and flees out the door sobbing. Bowie, who assumed Jagger would be overjoyed, stares in shock as his boyfriend runs away.

Stunned, he stays kneeling with the box open. Y/N gets up, unsure whether to look for Jagger or stay and comfort Bowie. They decide to wait until Bowie at least gets up.

Bowie, however, seems glued to the spot. Everyone else has gone back to their own business, but the room feels off. He slowly closes and puts the box back in his pocket. Dusting off his pants, David looks over at Y/N.

He wipes the tears in his eyes, “I think…” Bowie starts, “I think this breakfast has to be cut short.” He then grabs his jacket and lays a stack of money down, “I hope that will cover everyone’s meals.” Bowie slowly walks out of the entrance.

Y/N stands stunned and confused as hell.
David and Jagger had been so close. Mick was the one who fell the hardest, he couldn’t go days without Bowie. Even when he had to travel for work, he would call David every day. They were the perfect pair, so it just didn’t make sense.

Y/N looks at their watch. They don’t have to be at the Queen recording studio until 12, but since breakfast was canceled so early, they decide to hang out at the studio until the band arrives. Y/N grabs their stuff and walks out to the chauffeur who was waiting for them. They throw the chauffeur a five, get in their Cyber Truck, and drive to the studio.

Chapter 6: The Freddie Crisis

Notes:

Be prepared for a wild ride. We got a big ol chapter for you pookies <3

Arriving at the studio, Y/N notices another car in the parking lot. The band doesn’t usually arrive until the last minute, so they believe it’s just another poor janitor who was left to clean up from the night before. They walk through the doors and into the break room. Grabbing some coffee, they sit down and get straight to work on some old papers they should have done a while ago.

The toilet in the bathroom flushes, startling Y/N. “Hey, darling.” Freddie walks out while still drying his hands with a paper towel. “Didn’t realize you’d be in so early.” He struts over to the coffee machine and makes himself a cup.
“Me early? What about you? Shouldn’t you be taking Romeo to the vet or something?”
Freddie sips his coffee and sits beside Y/N, “They canceled on me!” He rolls his eyes, “God, don’t they know who I am?”
Y/N shakes their head and continues writing while Freddie jots down lyrics for a possible song.
“Why are you here so early?” Freddie questions as he looks up from his notebook.
“I had a date with Bowie and Mick, but they canceled on me halfway through. Bowie popped the question and Mick ran away.” Y/N says nonchalantly.
Freddie stops writing and turns pale, “Bowie asked Mick to marry him?”
“Yeah. I’m surprised Jagger responded like that too, they would have been so cute.”
Freddie, frowning, goes back to writing in his notebook. Y/N sips their coffee and gives Freddie a quizzical look, “What’s up with you? I thought you and Mick were friends?”
“We’re good mates, but I just don’t like the idea of him and Bowie tying the knot.” Freddie, seemingly unfazed, keeps scribbling.

Y/N stops to think about his comment for a second, “Why not? Don’t you want your friend to be happy?”
Freddie puts the pencil down and rests his head on the tips of his fingers, “Look, Y/N, I know on the outside they seem like the perfect couple, but you just don’t know what’s actually going on.”
“Everything that’s going on? Bowie tells me everything, I think I'd know if something was ‘going on’.”

“Well, maybe Bowie doesn’t know what’s going on!” Freddie shouts, slapping his notebook against the table.
Y/N raises an eyebrow, “What does that supposed mean, Fred?”
Freddie looks at Y/N, tears welling in his eyes, “God! I don’t know? Maybe me and Jagger were shagging while he and Bowie were together?” He starts to sob into his hands.
Y/N stares at Freddie, “What?”
“We were shagging! And I’m…”
Y/N grabs Freddie by the shoulders and makes him look them directly in their eyes, “You’re what, Freddie?”

Freddie tries to speak through his runny nose and teary eyes, but all that comes out is unintelligible gibberish, “I’m PREGNANT.” he finally manages to spit out.
Y/N drops Freddie and puts one of their hands on their forehead, “Oh my God, Freddie!” they sigh, “Have you told Mick at least?”
Freddie nods his head, which is now buried in his hands, “Of course I’ve told him! I didn’t want him to go on and get comfortable with Bowie without knowing I’m carrying his child.”
Y/N sighs, “This better not mess up Live Aid tomorrow.”
“Of course it won't. Bowie and Jagger are professionals. They aren’t going to ditch the whole show just because of what happened.”
“I don’t know, Freddie. If your soon-to-be fiance runs out of the room after you asked him to marry you, Would you still show up to a concert like nothing happened?”

Freddie just slumps in his chair, covering his face. Y/N checks the time and the band should be showing up soon, “Go back into the bathroom and clean yourself up a bit. You don’t want the band to catch on, do you?” Y/N, irritated, grabs their papers and walks into the recording room.

They continue to work until the rest of the band arrives. This whole situation was giving them a horrible headache. Roger was the first to walk in.
He seems to sense the room's uneasiness. “Sup,” he nods at Y/N. Hey, Fred. "He pats Freddie on the head and then sits down at the drumset to start playing.

Brian and John walk in next. “Hey, guys!” Deacon chimes in while taking his bass out of the case. Brian just sits down and starts fidgeting with his guitar. Everyone sits in silence for a while, and the group's unnerving feeling grows. John looks around. “So, are we going to play or sit in silence?” he asks the room.
“You’re right.” Freddie stands up and smiles, “Gotta warm up before tomorrow.”
“Oh, speaking of tomorrow,” Brian chimes in, trying to change the subject, “did you know The Beatles are gonna be performing with us?”
“The Beatles? Seriously? But they’re so lame!” Roger exclaims. The rest of the band nods in agreement. Freddie was very quiet, which was odd because he usually loved to shit talk.
“They aren’t so bad, guys,” Y/N smiles, “Like… Paul! He’s a real sweetheart.”
Brian looks up and points at Y/N, “Didn’t that one bloke… What's his name? Ronald? Didn’t he ask you out and you totally turned him down?”
Y/N frowns at Brian, burning red, “What? How’d you hear about that?” They put their hands on their hips, “Plus, his name is Ringo.”
“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Brian winks at Y/N, “But yeah, that big snouted basset hound of a man was heart broken.”
“No need for name calling.” Y/N wags their finger at Brian, “He didn’t seem that upset when I told him politely no.”
Brian shrugs and continues, “Anyways, I still would rather sniff Freddie’s cum sock than perform with those guys.”
Freddie hits Brian in the head with a shoe but still doesn’t make a peep.
“Why did you turn him down?” Roger looks up from his drum set. Y/N just stares at him. Worried he might have said something rude, he adds, “Just… curious is all. I mean, he’s a really talented drummer and pretty funny.”
Y/n shrugs. “I just see him as a little brother or an adorable puppy. Plus, he doesn't have enough self-esteem.”
Roger nods and goes back to playing drums.

…

The band gets done early, leaving Y/N with time to kill before their next appointment.
“Are you sure you don’t need anything right now?” Y/N asks Freddie while walking him out to his car.
“Yes, yes, darling. You really don’t have to fuss over me like this. I’m perfectly fine and Mick even said he would help me financially.” Freddie pats Y/N’s hands before climbing into his 1974 Rolls-Royce silver shadow.

Y/N nods and then looks down at their feet, “I’m sorry for being so harsh back there. My job’s on the line; if tomorrow is ruined, no one will want me to manage them. I have to apologize for only thinking of myself and-”
Freddie shushes Y/N, “Babe, chill out. This was all my and Mick’s fault. Because we were stupid, I got knocked up.” Freddie throws on his shades and turns on the car engine. “But I mean. Who can resist THE Mick Jagger, right?” Y/N laughs anxiously and waves Freddie goodbye.

The 1974 Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow drives off, and Y/N starts to shiver. The cold English air is getting on their nerves. Ever since leaving America, England has seemed freezing, even in the warmer months. They rush over to their car and turn on the engine.
“Ah, shit.” They look through their bag full of papers, “Where's the…” Y/N sighs, they forgot the set list for the Beatles performance tomorrow at their house.

…

At the apartment, Y/N fumbles with their keys and makes their way to the front door when they’re suddenly stopped by a man with a humongous schnoz about to knock on the door.
“Ringo? What are you doing here?” Y/N asks, coming up behind him.

Ringo jumps and turns around awkwardly. “Um..I wanted to apologize for last night.” he pauses. “I’m sorry for being thick with you…will you give me a second chance?” He looks at them with big sad eyes.
Y/N sighs. “Ringo…i'm sorry, but I only see you as a friend. I don’t want things to be awkward between us.”

Ringo nods, “I understand. um…Y/N, as a friend, I actually need to talk to you.” He looks around nervously, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.
“Sure, come inside. Excuse the mess..” Y/n leads him inside and sits down at the small kitchen table, kicking aside a stack of eviction notices and overdue taxes. Fuck England.
“What’d you wanna talk about?” They ask.
Ringo gulps, “Last night, after the date- I mean dinner, I went on a bit of a drinking spree and George came over. Um…how do I say this….George is a fag.”
“Ringo! You can’t say that, it’s homophobic!”
Ringo burst into tears, “But what if I’M a fag!?” He slams his fists on the table and cries into his hands.
Y/N is flabbergasted. Their mouth falls open in shock. “You’re…what?”
“I’m gay! I’m a queer! I kissed George last night, and I LIKED it!” He sobs.
Y/N places a hand on Ringo’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, I would’ve liked that too.”
“Not the fucking time, Y/N.” Ringo hisses. Suddenly, the phone rings, and Y/N jumps up to get it. They pick up the home phone and answer the call. “Yellow! Who is it?”
An unknown feminine voice echoes through the phone. “We have David.”
Y/N pauses, “ok? David who?”
“Bowie, bitch.” The voice barks back, clearly annoyed at Y/N’s lack of critical thinking skills.
Y/N is taken aback. “Who are you?” they demand. There is no answer but the ringing of the now disconnected call. Y/N turns to Ringo, who heard the whole conversation. They stare at each other for a moment, trying to wrap their head around what just happened. Y/N chuckles, “It’s probably just a prank call. I’ll call David and make sure he’s ok.” They dial his number and wait expectantly for him to answer. They wait for what seems like forever, but nobody ever picks up. That was odd. What could David Bowie possibly be doing besides lamenting the loss of his Ex-Boyfriend Mick Jagger?
Y/N looks at Ringo, their face as pale as John Lennon's left ass cheek, “We can’t tell anyone about this.”
Ringo looks at them, confused. “What? Why? We should call the cops!”
Y/N reaches over and places a finger on his mouth, shushing him. “No. The commotion would ruin Live Aid.”
Ringo nods solemnly. Y/N and Ringo sit in silence before leaving for Abbey Road Recording Studio.

…

“Hey, Ringo! How was the date last night?” Paul playfully shoves Ringo’s shoulder and smirks, “Did she get all dolled up for you?”
Ringo walks past him and gives Paul a bashful grin.
“Lucky bird! Did you take her to your flat?”
Ringo shakes his head and drops his grin.
“Don’t tell me you shagged her in public,” Paul waves a hand, “Actually, who am I to judge? I’ve done it on me grandma’s couch… God what a mess.”
Ringo stares at Paul with a disgusted expression.
“What?” Paul shrugs, “We stopped when she walked in on us.”
Y/N walks through the entrance of the studio and Paul hits Ringo on the shoulder, “Lucky girl last night, huh?”
RIngo starts shaking his head, trying to warn Paul.
Paul, ignoring Ringo's warning, carries on, “Not everyone gets to visit THE Ringo Starr’s flat for a good night.”

Y/N looks at Ringo confused, but he just keeps shaking his head.
Paul looks over at Y/N, then to Ringo and gives him a wink and a thumbs up, “Did she enjoy the Ringo Starr special you showed her? Bring out your drumstick, huh?”

Ringo blushes and stares at Paul, furious.
Y/N, clearly annoyed and disappointed, walks away.
“Paul! What the hell, man?” Ringo shoves Paul.
“What? What?” Paul looks around confused, “I was just trying to help my mate out. Doesn’t hurt to make the person you like a bit jealous.”
“That date last night was between me and them! Not some random person.”

Paul, embarrassed, “Oh… how’d it go?”
Ringo looks down, “We’re just… friends,” He glares at him and hits Paul straight in the chest with one of his fingers, “And you just ruined that bloody relationship too because you had to try and be a sodding wingman! They think you were talking about them! God, you’re so STUPID.”

Paul steps back and lifts his hands in the air, “Right, mate. Chill out. Didn’t know.”
Ringo starts to walk away, “Damn it, man. What kind of wingman are you anyways?” A little more muffled now because he’s out the door, “Made me sound like a bloody freak.”

Y/N was sifting through papers in the break room when Ringo knocks on the open door, “Ello?” Y/N doesn’t look up from their work. Ringo slowly walks over to Y/N, “I swear Paul was making all of that up. I didn’t say a word to him! I swear. On my mother’s grave.”

“You’re mom’s not dead.” Y/N mumbles.
“Ok, then on my grandma’s grave.” Ringo sits down next to Y/N and when they don’t look up, he gives them puppy dog eyes, “Please, Y/N. I swear that was all Paul. I wouldn’t throw you under the bus like that.”

Y/N sighs. “It’s fine. We should focus on getting ready for Live Aid anyway.” they say coldly, getting up from their desk. RIngo, upset, walks out with them.

“Ok!” Y/N starts cheerfully, “Who’s ready to go over the plan for tomorrow?”
The whole band sighs.
“Come on guys! Where’s the spirit?” Y/N claps their hands together. When there’s no response, Y/N continues, “Anyways, we all get here by 7:00 am. Not 7:15, not 7:10, not even 7:01. 7:00 am. You guys got that?”

Ringo puts a thumbs up, John nods, Paul mumbles in agreement, and George just keeps fidgeting with his things.
“Awesome! Ok. And so then you guys will get ready on stage before Queen arrives. While you guys are performing, Queen will get ready. Sounds right?”
The band nods their heads.
“George, have all of your chords and doo hickey’s for your stuff?”

“You know it.” George responds.
“Paul, got yours too?”
“Yep.” Paul lifts up some chords to show to Y/N
“Ringo, got your drum sticks and stuff?”
Ringo smiles and nods.
“John, got your guitar stuff?”
(In spanish) “And my beautiful voice!” He smiles enthusiastically while the rest of the band rolls their eyes.

“Ok, I think we’re all set for tomorrow.” Y/N yawns and shoos the band off. Paul lingers behind the rest of the group, his feminine hips swaying as he waddles towards Y/N
“Yo, Y/N!” Paul waves his hand to catch their attention.
Y/N scoffs and turns around.
“Y/N! Stop walking! I gotta apologize.”
Y/N stops in their tracks and turns to Paul, “Why is everyone trying to apologize to me today? What did you do?”

“I-” Paul puts his hands on his knees and catches his breath, “Oh my God why do you walk so fast?” He lifts his head up, “I want to apologize for making you think Ringo lied and said you two got together. I swear I was the culprit behind the rumor.”
Y/N gives Paul a frown, “So you’re the reason why practically everyone knows we went out? You even told Queen?”
“Yeah I just… it backfired so hard.”
Y/N gives Paul a puzzled look, “What? What did you want to happen?”
“I wanted George to realize you two were together and that Ringo wasn’t on the market anymore, but I didn’t know you two didn’t actually get together.” Paul retorts.
Y/N’s mouth is agape, “So you lied because you wanted George to yourself? Oh my God. That’s why George checked up on Ringo. I hope you realized they ended up kissing.”
Paul became red, “He WHAT?”
Y/N smiled, “Karma, bitch! That’s what you get for lying.”
Paul pauses for a second and, practically fuming, turns around and gives Y/N the bird while storming away.
“What’s that for? I didn’t do anything.” Y/N calls after him.
“You ruined my chances with George!” Paul storms out of the room and slams the door behind him, leaving Y/N completely alone in the studio.

Notes:

All your comments make me giggle, please add more

Chapter 7: Monster lady gay gay

Notes:

So sorry for the late chapter (again :(. ) I was struck down with a disgusting cold. I was a snot filled, deplorable mess and I couldn’t bring myself to do anything besides sniffle and cry.

 

I’m better now tho

Y/N throws themself onto their small, cramped English bed, completely and utterly exhausted. “Why me?” they wail into their pillow. Not only had David Bowie completely disappeared off the face of the earth, probably kidnapped by crazy fans, but both of the most popular British pop/rock groups of all time are completely falling apart! Y/N doesn’t know how much more of this they can take. They run a hand across their head, that’s it. The millisecond their contract expires, they’re catching the closest flight and moving back to the States.
They’re deep in thought when they hear the doorbell ring. Y/N gets out of bed and dodges the piles of eviction notices and overdue taxes leading to the door.

Opening the door, they’re greeted by a tall, sketchy guy with flaming red hair and sunglasses, “Hey, uh… wanna sign my petition?” The Dude speaks in a deep, gravelly voice, he hands them a pen and a clipboard. Y/N briefly looks over the petition and signs it.

During this awkward exchange, the man looks around the entrance of their flat. “How long have you been stayin’ here, man?”
Y/N gives him the paper back and shrugs, “I dunno, about three years.”
The Postal Dude, or whatever his name is, nods his head, reads over their signature and then points to Y/N’s shirt, “Nice top. How much was it?”
Y/N shrugs again, “Like 24 pounds? It was like 50% off at a garage sale.”
The Dude smirks and then leans against Y/N’s door frame, “At my house, clothes are 100% off.”
Y/N blushes and slaps the man across the face.
“Shit,” The Dude grabs his shades off the ground, “Damn, girl!”
Y/N crosses their arms and leans against the door. “Wanted to give me anything else, or just harass me, leprechaun?”
Postal dude takes a letter from his pocket and hands it to Y/N, “Yeah, this.”
Y/N snatches it out of his hand and looks over it.
“So…” Postal dude started, “You free tonight?”
Y/N slams the door in his face and they hear a yelp from outside, “MY FUCKIN NOSE!”
Y/N sits down on their lazy boy and opens the letter. The sealing was made of pure gold and the letter was made of the finest paper. It smelled like fancy cologne. The letter stated:

Dear Y/N,
I know where David Bowie’s whereabouts are. Meet me at the back of the Live Aid stage.
Sincerely,
E.M.

Y/N stares at the letter and reads it over and over again. Whose initials do they know are E and M? And how would they know where David’s whereabouts are? So many thoughts are running through their head. They check the time, 12:59. God, they really should be going to bed.

YN runs their hands across their bald head and trips up the stairs to their room. Their room, much like the rest of their house, is completely trashed. They wash their face with leftover water in a plastic water bottle they had lying around, not bothering to shower because their water was cut off months ago. They only shower in the studios’ restrooms. Their bed is covered in papers and dirty laundry, so they mindlessly sweep it all off in one huge swoop. The mattress isn’t that comfy. Y/N sniffs the air, then shudders in disgust. There might be a dead animal that died in their bed, there's a pungent rotting smell that won’t go away that permeated throughout the apartment complex.

They soon drift off to sleep, and their eyes slowly close. That night they dreamed that Paul McCartney was making out with Roger Taylor just to spite Y/N. Y/N, furious, attacks Paul, FNAF style, and they start fighting like two stray cats over some leftover tuna. During this time Roger was ripping his shirt off and screaming the lyrics to “I Want to Break Free.” Paul wins the fight and grabs Roger, wedding style carrying him away into the sunset while Y/N dreams of a future with Ringo being their wife. He made Y/N take care of all six of their tiny ringlings (children), beating them whenever they frowned - which is more historically accurate than you might think.

Chapter 8: Live Aid

Y/N wakes up cold, covered in sweat, tears, and this weird white stuff in their pants. They look at the clock, which reads 6:50. They have 10 minutes to make it to Live Aid. Like a mom realizing she left her kid at a gas station, they get up and fly out the door, throwing on whatever piece of clothing they deem clean enough. They speed towards the venue, breaking all known road safety laws, even breaking ones previously unknown to British law enforcement. Skidding into the back parking lot, they grab their clipboard and papers and break through the door. Literally. They run so fast they break the door off its hinges. “Sorry I’m late!” they cry as they crash into Roger Taylor.
Roger stumbles backwards by the force. “Woah, late? What are you talking about? You’re right on time,” he says cooly in his sophisticated British accent. He brushes off a piece of debris from Y/N’s shoulder.
‘What? But it’s-,” They check their watch, “Oh… it’s seven.”
Roger playfully hits Y/N on the shoulder “you alright, man? You seem stressed out, is something up? You’re usually all put together.”
Y/N blushes at the thought that Roger thinks about them. In the middle of deep breaths, they laugh it off a bit and then playfully hits him back, but they hit a little too hard, “All good, man.”
Roger rubs his shoulder and laughs it off, “Cool,” He puts up double shooting gestures at Y/N like the queer he is and winks, “See ya later, boss.” He walks away and starts to put up his long blond hair into a high ponytail.
Y/N keeps their eyes on Roger as he walks off. They start to lean on a door to better their view, but the door ends up opening and they fall into the room. All of their papers go flying and they land straight on their face.
(In spanish) “Woah, you good?” John reaches a hand for Y/N. The Beatles stare back at them while they’re still on their back. Awkwardly, Y/N takes John’s hand and brushes themself off.
“Uh… yeah. Sorry, just been really busy.” Y/N gets all of their papers together and sighs when they realize everythings been mixed up, “How’ve you guys been?”
The band members all mumble under their breaths and John smiles at Y/N, (In spanish) “Amazingly, thanks for asking. Actually, yesterday, when you left the studio, I went to my little brother’s bar mitzvah.”
“I didn’t know you were Jewish?” Y/N raises an eyebrow.
John shrugs, (In spanish) “It’s not really important I guess.”
The group hears someone knocking on the door outside and a man in all black is standing at the doorway holding a clipboard, “Twenty minutes until go time.”
Y/N claps for the band to get ready and everyone goes their separate ways.

…

Ringo lugs a heavy bass drum across a long hallway to the stage. He heaves every step he takes. People keep walking past him, but no one stops to give him a hand. It starts to feel like the hallway goes on for forever when someone picks up the other end of the drum and lightens the weight immensely.
Ringo raises his eyebrows up in surprise, “Thanks, mate!”
“No problem!” George responds.
Ringo’s eyebrows drop and he stays silent for the rest of the walk to the stage. Now the hallway definitely feels like it’s going on for ages.
They make it to the center of the stage and almost immediately after placing the drum down, Ringo starts walking away from George.
“Oi!” George shouts.
Ringo keeps walking at a swift pace and brushing past people.
“Ringo, wait up!” George is now practically running for him.
Ringo picks up the pace a bit but his plan to escape George backfires and he’s left at a dead end.
“What?!” Ringo shouts back at George, “What could you possibly want?”
George stands there stunned. He’s not sure on how to respond to such an aggressive tone from Ringo. George puts his hands together, “Look, about that night.”

Ringo rolls his eyes and starts to walk past him.
“Ringo!” George grabs Ringo by the shoulders before he could get around him, “Listen to me, mate! I just wanted to ask if I’ve completely ruined the relationship, I’m sorry” He realizes how tight he's grabbing Ring’s shoulders and lets go. The tension in the room is almost too much to bear, “But… I guess I have.”
Ringo just stands there emotionless, but clearly upset.
“God, I’m sorry mate,” George begins, “I never should’ve pulled a move like that,” He puts a hand over his head, “Kissing you?! What kind of fucking friend am I?”
Ringo slaps George, “Exactly! What kind of FRIEND kisses their mate?”

The room becomes dead silent and Ringo is fuming. George holds his cheek and starts tear up, “What… what does that mean, Ringo?”
Ringo looks down at the floor, “Maybe…” He looks up at George, “you were never my friend?”
George’s tears start to fall down onto his blouse. His hand still covering his cheek, “If that’s what you think…” He drops his hand and turns around. Sniffling, he starts his journey back to the stage.
“You were never my friend,” Ringo states, stopping George’s next step, “You were always more than that. We were always more than that.” He walks up to George and grabs one of his shoulders, “I think you know that too.”
George stares into Ringo’s eyes as tears roll down his cheek, “What?”
Ringo pulls George in and they embrace in a hug, “I need you, mate. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
George pulls away, “But, Y/N?”
Ringo laughs, “They live in a dump and own a Tesla Cyber Truck,” He winks at George, “I think I could do better.”
George and Ringo collapse into a nearby janitor’s closet and unknowingly lock themselves inside.

…

While George and Ringo were getting freaky 👅 in a closet, Y/N was busy running between bands and making sure everything is in order for the show. They crash into a nearby breakroom and collapse onto a chair.
“Jesus, whats happened to you?” a voice asks from across the table. Y/N lifts their head to see Roger, Brian, John and Freddie all staring at them. “Nothing. Just making sure everything is put together and all that.” Y/N sighs.
Freddie nods, patting them on the back, “well, me and the boys are gonna get some air, you wanna come with?” he asks in his usual flamboyant tone. Y/N just shakes their head.
“Me neither, Fred.” Roger looks up from the small mirror he’s been using to put on his makeup, “I’m kind of busy.”

Freddie, Brian, and John leave the room, leaving Y/N and Roger alone. Y/N sits in their seat staring at Roger as he puts on his makeup. Roger is currently using a black mascara.
“It’s not nice to stare.” Roger says, still staring at the mirror.

Y/N averts their gaze, “Sorry.”
He finishes up his makeup and puts the mirror down, “How have you really been Y/N?”
Y/N blushes and gives Roger a confused look, “What? I’ve already told you. I’ve just been busy.” They cross their arms and sit back in their seat.
Roger shakes his head, “Nah, I know an upset manager when I see one.” He leans forward in his seat waiting for a response.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Y/N looks off into the distance. Roger raises his eyebrow and Y/N sighs, “Fine. If you REALLY wanna hear it.”
Roger nods his head in anticipation.
Y/N huffs. “First, Ringo asked me out and I totally rejected him and I ended up hurting his feelings. Then Bowie tried to propose to Mick Jagger, but jagger totally runs away, leaving Bowie HUMILIATED. Because it turns out that he was cheating on Bowie with Freddie, and Freddie’s pregnant. Not to mention that David Bowie’s been KIDNAPPED and probably gone forever unless I can find him!” They sigh, tears in their eyes. “It’s been a very stressful week.”
Roger just stares blankly at Y/N, “Freddie and Jagger were shagging?”

“Seriously? THE David Bowie is missing!”
Roger gets up and sits next to Y/N, “Sorry, you’re right. That sounds… stressful. Look, I’ve never been good at comforting people. But, uhm, is there anything you need? Like a coffee or something?”
Y/N smiles at Roger and wipes the tears from their eyes, “It’s fine. I just need this day to be over with.”
Roger nods his head and checks his watch, “We could grab a bite together if that would keep things off your mind?”
Y/N’s face turns red and they start vigorously nodding their head.
Roger grabs Y/N’s hand and they walk towards the dining hall.

…

While George and Ringo get freaky 👅 and Y/N and Roger get breakfast, Paul and John are sitting together eating their own breakfasts.
In between bites, “What are your thoughts on Y/N?” Paul questions John.
John finishes a gulp and looks over at Paul, (In spanish) “They seem to be a really good manager. I mean, they understand our schedules and needs and they work their hardest to keep everything together.”
Paul nods his head and keeps eating.
John raises an eyebrow, (In spanish) “Why’d ya ask?”
Paul shrugs, “I don’t know. Just wanted your opinion I guess.”
John nods and keeps eating.
“What are your thoughts on Ringo?”
John now sets down his breakfast, (In spanish) “Ok, Paul. What are you really talking about?”
Paul shakes his head, “Am I not allowed to ask you for your opinion?”
John stares at Paul, (In spanish) “Paul. If you’ve forgotten, I’m John Lennon. Your best friend. I think you can tell me something that’s on your mind.”
Paul thinks about this for a moment and then rolls his eyes, “Ok, but DON'T tell anyone, ok?”
John nods his head while eating his breakfast again.
“Well,” Paul looks up, “I like George. He’s quite the looker and I guess George has his eyes on Ringo. Well, I thought Ringo going after Y/N would throw George off, so I gave Ringo the tip to ask Y/N out on a date and George would have no one to run to but me. but, Ringo had to go and make the date a total bust, leaving himself available for George.” Paul growls, looking down, “So now… I’m Georgeless and single.” he mutters.
John nods his head and finishes his last bite, (In spanish) “Why’d you like George anyways? I mean other than he’s a looker.”
“I guess he has nice cheekbones. And he’s pretty quiet and mysterious if you ask me.”
John looks at Paul, (In spanish) “Do I have nice cheekbones?”
Paul shrugs.
(In spanish) “Look,” John brushes off the crumbs on his pants, “We have,” He checks his watch, “Six ish minutes now until we have to perform.”
Paul raises one of his eyebrows.
John scoots closer to him, (In spanish) “If ya wanted. I could give you a hand, if ya know what I mean.”
Paul’s face turns tomato red, “What!? John, you’re my best friend. That’s preposterous!”
John shrugs and puts an arm over Paul’s shoulder, (In spanish) “I can’t bear to see my best friend all upset over some guy.” John playfully tugs on Paul’s necktie, “besides, what’re friends for?”

…

Y/N and Roger start to finish their last bites. Y/N hadn’t stopped blushing since they and Roger had started eating. This felt like a dream. Sure, they’ve known Roger for years, but this was the first time they actually spent time with him one on one.
“Oh no,” Y/N looks at a nearby clock, “I have 3 minutes to grab all the Beatles.”
Roger reaches out to grab Y/N’s dirty plate and gives them a confused look, “Why do you need to collect those buffoons?”
Y/N’s eyes open wide, “Uh… I mean… I should probably remind their manager that they only have 3 minutes.”
Roger smiles and nods his head, “Well, you go do that.” He places the plates in the garbage and Y/N starts to rush out the door, but Roger grabs their arm before they can leave the room, “But don’t worry so much. Ok?” He smiles at them and then lets them go.

Y/N, somehow, blushes more than they had this whole meal, “Y-yeah. No worries, got it!” They rush out and start calling the Beatles’ names, “Lennon! Ringo? Paul! Georgeee!” They rush past people and question everyone for their whereabouts, but no one has seen any of the Beatles.
“Oh my God… where are you guys?” They run across a hallway and hear a familiar voice in an empty meeting room.
(In spanish) “Hehehe, thinkin about George now, Pauly?”
“Don’t know why I ever did.”
Y/N swings the door open and upon seeing the state of undress the two were in, closes it immediately. “PUT ON SOME DAMN CLOTHES YOU TWO.” Y/N stands there for a second in shock and then remembers, “Also, we have two minutes, so get ready.” Y/N rushes through the lobby, trying to find Ringo and George. They groan, if they keep looking for those slackers, they’ll be late to get the other two on stage. They decide to try and have Paul and Lennon play by themselves until they can find George and Ringo.
“But- but we need drums!” John shouts as Y/N pushes him out the door.
“And lead guitar!” Paul adds while following behind.
“I don’t care! You guys need to play now! We’re already 5 minutes late.”
The two Beatles are pushed on to the stage when the fans go crazy. Paul and John wave at the huge adoring crowd. Everyone was there, even Jerma985 and Papa Meat!
John takes the mic and everyone goes silent, “Uh… sorry, luvs, but Ringo and George might not be joining us for a while. Seems like we can’t find them…”
The crowd immediately uproars in boos. People are shouting for Ringo and George and some even throw their food on to the stage. John leans over to Paul and clearly asks him a question, but Y/N can’t hear them from the side of the stage.

Everything that could possibly go wrong, has gone wrong. Y/N has literally lost two of the Beatles and the crowd is booing the other two. The only thing that has gone remotely right is Roger having breakfast with Y/N, but even that has distracted them from their duties. God, no one’s gonna hire them now.

John is close to leaving the stage from embarrassment when Paul puts a finger up. He steals the mic from John and starts to strum his guitar, 🎶“Ooooh, I need your love babe! Guess you know it’s true!”🎶 John turns to Paul to stop him, but the crowd immediately turns into cheering again.

John shrugs and starts to play along, 🎶“Hope you need my love babe. Just like I need you!”🎶
Y/N watches as the crowd’s boos turn into cheers. They quite literally wipe the sweat off their forehead and stand there, basking in the music. Paul and John sound wonderful and Y/N can’t help but feel somewhat proud they were able to cheer the crowd up.

A couple of songs pass and Y/N is still wondering where Ringo and George are. They had already asked a policeman backstage to try and find them, but no one had followed up on their request. John and Paul, however, haven’t let the crowd down and perform their best songs on the set list while putting in a couple of gags here and there to keep the audience entertained. Everything seemed to be going better.
Suddenly, everything goes black.

Chapter 9: Chapter 8 1/2: the adventure of George and Ringo in The Closet

Notes:

Here’s a little extra chapter for our 6 fans ❤️

“Hehehe, yeh right there, Georgie, hehehe,” Ringo grabs onto George’s greasy, sweaty hair as George kisses Ringo’s smooth neck. George hits a spot that makes Ringo beat his foot down like a dog being scratched behind the ear. Ringo smirks, “Where did you learn to do that?”
George pulls away from Ringo’s neck and kisses his arm, “Boarding school, baby.” George goes up and down Ringo’s arm till he gets bored and lifts Ringo’s chin up, pulling his face closer. They indulge in a kiss and tug at each other’s backs.
Ringo’s face starts to show a lack of enthusiasm, “Do you think the band will hate me?” Ringo whispers in George’s ear.
George pulls away from Ringo’s face, concerned, “Why would they hate you, dear?”
Ringo looks down, “I don’t know. It’s just… it’s always been a concern of mine. Knowing my parents would never accept me and all, ya know?”
George puts a hand on Ringo’s face, “Starr, if they don’t accept you, I don’t know who will,” He laughs, “Hell, John’s Jewish, Mexican, trans, and gay!”
Ringo giggles a bit at the comment and holds George’s hand.
George smirks and, suddenly, pins RIngo on the ground, “And if they try getting rid of ya!” He gets down, really close to Ringo’s face, “They’ll have to go through the rootin’ ist tootin’ ist cowboy in the west.” George looks up and acts like he’s spitting a loogie, “Me!”
Ringo starts to bawl laughing and the two begin to embrace when George remembers, “Oh shit…”
Ringo gets up, “What?”
George looks at the clock on the wall, “When were we supposed to go on stage?”
RIngo hits his face, “Aw, man! We missed the bloody performance!”
George gets up, “Well, hold on. We still have ten minutes to get out there,” He starts to turn the doorknob when suddenly, it won’t budge, “Double shit.”
Ringo frowns, “Lemme try,” He walks over and pulls on the doorknob, and then starts to basically stand on the door trying to break it off, “Open damn you!” He struggles for a moment and ends up giving up.
“Anybody know we’re in here?” George asks without any real concern.
“I don’t think so,” Ringo answers.
“So we probably have a while before someone comes looking?”
“Yep.”
“Wanna keep making out?”
“Yep.”

Chapter 10: Espresso

Notes:

TW: Elon musk

Y/N’s eyes slowly rise and all they can see is a sad yellow fluorescent light like the ones in a Home Depot. It seemed as though they were in some kind of basement of sorts and the only thing in the room was the chair they were tied to. Y/N struggles in it for a while until they remember a human their petite size could not break through rope. They end up accepting their defeat and sit there until a beautiful woman with long luscious blonde hair walks in. Y/N gulps, they’d always been nervous around women, especially the pretty blonde ones.

The woman begins to hum, 🎶“Now he’s, nah, nah, nah, nah, hm, hm, hm, espresso~.”🎶 She turns to see Y/N in their chair. The woman stops in her tracks and swiftly runs back through the door she came in from, “THEY’RE AWAKE!!!”

Y/N watches this happen in a matter of seconds and sits there impassively as they wait for whatever comes next. This has to be the most outrageous thing to happen to them today. Literally nothing goes right for them, I swear to God. They suddenly hear two sets of footsteps walking back.

Another beautiful, blonde woman walks in, she’s a little bit taller with sharp cheekbones and full lips. She stands over Y/N. Y/N gulps nervously and begins to sweat. The other one walks in after and leans on the tall one’s shoulder.

“You’re awake.” The tall one comments. She has a mellow, silky voice.
Y/N enthusiastically looks down at their ties and then back up, “Uh, yeah, guess I am.” Their heart races, from fear or arousal they couldn’t tell, but their heart rate definitely increased substantially.

The tall blonde one crouches in front of Y/N, “Hi, I should probably introduce myself. My name’s Taylor. Taylor Swift. Might have heard of me.” She points behind her at the shorter blonde, “This is the lovely Sabrina Carpenter.”

Sabrina waves enthusiastically at Y/N and places a kiss on Taylor’s cheek.
Taylor looks around the basement, almost like she’s just now seeing this place too, “If you’re wondering where you are, it’s the basement of the stadium.”
Y/N raises an eyebrow, “How has no one came looking for me?”

Taylor smiles, “Don’t you worry about it, babe.” She puts a hand on Y/N’s cheek, “Now, we have a plan and we need you to do something important for us to make it happen.”

The panic starts to set in for Y/N when they watch Sabrina casually pull a nine millimeter out of her boot, “Wh- what do you want? I’ll do anything!”
Taylor looks behind her, confused why Y/N is so scared, and then throws her hands in the air, “Sabrina! How many times do I have to tell you not to pull out weapons in front of the victims! It scares them!”

Sabrina, surprised, looks up and starts to wave the gun around, “I thought you said we were gonna shoot them?!”

Taylor hits her head with her hand and pulls Sabrina aside, whispering, “Look, I know what we talked about, but we were gonna do it humanely. Like without them knowing they were ever shot.”
Sabrina raises an eyebrow and scratches her head with the gun.

“Like putting a damn dog down, babe.” Taylor shakes Sabrina back and forth.
“Ohhh,” Sabrina smiles, “You’re so smart, TayTay.”
Taylor shakes her head and returns back to Y/N, “Well, I guess you know what’s gonna happen to you.” She stands there for a moment, then gives Y/N a devilish smirk, “But you probably want to know why this is happening to you.”
Y/N doesn’t care anymore. What do they have to live for? They live in a dump, they have no money, they’re gonna get fired after today. Getting shot might be their best option.

They sit in their seat and quietly listen as Taylor continues, “Well, if you haven’t guessed it, we’ve kidnapped Bowie,” She waits for the surprise to set in on Y/N’s face, but instead they sit there indifferently. Taylor sighs. “Well, anyways, we kidnapped him because he’s a very powerful man. Or should I say Starman?” She waits again for some type of reaction, but Y/N won’t budge, “God, you’re such a drag! Anyways, He’s from space and his real name is Ziggy Stardust. Everyone thinks it’s a stage name, but his parents from the planet Red Shoes named him after his grandfather. Not only is he an alien, but he also has a very important power which is why he was sent to Earth.” Y/N sits there, completely unfazed.

Taylor walks over to a small lever in front of Y/N, then pulls it. A huge plotted map falls from the ceiling with multiple pictures of planets, stars, and David Bowie all connected with red rope and thumbtacks.

“This is his life’s mission. Stopping asteroid Oddity from hitting Earth. He has a special force field covering not only the span of his body, but the entire earth.” She puts up a finger, “However, this baby only appears when he is singing.” Taylor walks back over to Y/N, “So in order to stop his stupid force field thingy, we’ve used state of the art machinery to stop him from being able to sing.”
Sabrina cuts in and pridefully adds, “Duck tape! We used duct tape!”

Taylor swift hits her head again and continues, “Yeah, ok, we used duct tape, but so far it’s working like a charm.”
“Where is he?” Y/N adds although they hardly care anymore.
“He’s in the other room.”
Y/N sits there, emotionless. They start to notice the muffled yelling coming from somewhere else in the basement, “God, you guys are stupid. Someone’s going to go looking for David and they’ll find him down here.”

Taylor shrugs, “No one’s come looking for him yet.”
Y/N thinks about this for a second. It was true no one seemed to care about his whereabouts. Maybe no one will ever come looking and Earth will be hit by a giant asteroid.

Taylor kneels in front of Y/N and continues, “So, we can’t have anyone interfering with our plan,” She gestures to Sabrina to hand her the gun, “That means you too, sweetie.”
Y/N thinks about this for a second and, puzzled, asks Taylor, “Why do you need to kill me? Also why do you want an asteroid to hit Earth and kill everyone?”

Taylor perks up and she smiles, “Oh my God, thanks for asking! Well, Sabrina and I have agreed, gay men are so annoying. They don’t deserve rights. Like? The whole butt stuff is SO weird!”
Sabrina silently nods behind Taylor, handing the gun out to her.

“And since in this universe like 80% of the population are faggot men, we’ve decided to hit the ultimate restart button.” Taylor sighs.
Y/N shrugs, “What does this have to do with me?”
Taylor takes the gun, “Since you are the closest to the two most widely known bands in the world, we can’t have you telling them about our little secret. They might actually be able to stop us.”
“Why did you send me the letter then?”
“It was supposed to go to Jagger. We thought it would send him over the edge and hopefully he would off himself or something, but it was sent to you by mistake, so we couldn’t let that happen.”
Y/N nods their head, “Seems like all valid points.” They couldn’t argue with someone who knows what they want.

Taylor smiles as she cocks the gun, “Aw, thanks. We’ve really thought it out.”
Y/N pulls her head back, ready for the impact when suddenly, a large, sleek, titanium rectangle slams through the concrete walls. Taylor and Sabrina get covered in debris, their cries muffled under the concrete. As the dust settles, y/n gazes upon a beautiful titanium Cybertruck, the yellow glow of the fluorescent lights dancing off the sleek silver plating. The door of the truck opens and a short, stocky, rectangular man stumbles out. Y/Ns mouth falls open in shock.

“BILLIONAIRE ELON MUSK??” Y/N couldn’t believe their eyes, why the fuck was Elon musk standing in front of them - and better yet, how’d he get a cybertruck in a basement?
“Come on,” he says, showing off his glorious 5 '4 stature. He grabs Y/N’s hand. He had a strong, masculine scent - body odor and stale cum.
“E-Elon, where are we going?”
Elon just keeps running with Y/N up to the stage. He turns to them and says, “You were supposed to meet me behind the stadium today. I guess they got to you first.”

Y/N was astonished, “Ohhhh, you’re E.M.!” They think over this realization, “I'm a little mad I never figured that out before now.”
Elon continues to run, but stops for a moment and turns to Y/N, his face serious. “Look, I’ve known about this for a while. See, Sabrina, Taylor, and I have been close friends for years. They told me about this plan and decided they would blow up the world and I would build a spaceship that could fly us out of here and put us on a safe planet. You know, away from all of the faggot men, but they turned on me. I came out to them… as being a Nazi, and for some reason, they didn’t like that. I guess hating faggots is fine, but antsemitism is where they cross the line.” He shrugs, “Anyways, they decided to drop me from their plan and were gonna run off with my spaceship after the world exploded.” He shakes his head, “Can you believe that crap?”

Y/N stares at him for a moment, their face contorted in a look of confusion and disgust, as if they had a bad taste in their mouth. “Uh huh…” they look around uncomfortably. “You know, you probably *shouldn’t* be saying those things if you aren’t actually gay or Jewish…” Musk puts a finger on their lips, shushing them.

“Heh! I’m just living the meme!” He chuckles stupidly. God, Y/N hated this guy. How was he the maker of the beautiful slick titanium automobile from heaven they drive?

Elon and Y/N make it to the stage floor of the building when Y/N remembers, “Don’t we need Bowie?”
Elon rolls his eyes, “Well, duh. How else are we going to stop the evil lesbians?”
Y/N gives Elon an annoyed look, “Dude, he was literally in the next room.”
Elon rolls his eyes harder, “Yeah, I know. I’m not a re-”

Y/N puts a finger on Elon’s mouth, “Woah, woah, woah, buddy. You definitely can't say that one.”
Elon giggles a bit and then wipes off the dribble coming out of his mouth.

“Ok,” Y/N starts, “So why didn’t we grab him?”
“Because the room has high tech security that only Sabrina knows the code to.”
Y/N raises an eyebrow, “How did they obtain high tech security?”

Elon mumbles, “Cause… I made it for them…”
Y/N sighs, “Of course ya did,” And then they think about his comment a little more, “But why does Sabrina have the code? I would expect you to know, or at least Taylor, but Sabrina?”
“Taylor insisted Sabrina be the one to make the password because she didn’t do anything to contribute to the plan and Taylor felt bad for her.”
Y/N shakes their head, “Why didn’t you just make the code?”
Elon shrugs, “They used their female manipulation skills on me!”
Y/N stands in utter annoyance and then starts to walk toward the stage where Paul and John are about to end the show.

Chapter 11: Let it be 2.0

Notes:

Dudes i am SO sorry for not posing so often, i have finals and all that i need to focus on.

John and Paul finish their second to last song on the set list and waves to the audience.
(In spanish) “Thank you all!” John yells into the mic, “But we have one more song to perform for you!” He looks over at Y/N who was fortunately saved right before they had to perform.
Elon looks at John, then Y/N, then at the audience, “You have to perform? Can you even sing?” He scoffs.
Y/N, red and embarrassed, “God,” They put a hand over their head, “I forgot about that…”
John starts to gesture for Y/N to come on stage. Y/N shakes their head no, but John insists. Y/N’s heart starts pumping. They start to sweat and everything becomes fuzzy. Backing up, Y/N’s head shakes become more and more prevalent.
John hands Paul the mic and Paul starts to make a few quick jokes with the crowd. While that happens, John is rushing to Y/N’s side, (In spanish) “Aye, ya good, mate?”
Y/N looks up from their hands which are covering their face and continues to shake their head, “No, they're gonna make fun of me or I’m gonna mess up. I know I will!” They cover their face back up and sniffle. The cries of the crowd makes their head hurt, and their heart feels as though it will burst through their chest.
John rubs their back and forces their hands off their face, (In spanish) “Look, they’re gonna love ya. You think I was always the stunning, outgoing musician I am?” He holds their face when he realizes they’re trying to drown him out with thoughts, “Hell, I’m Mexican, Jewish, trans, and gay. Like, come on. I used to be so unsure of myself.” He sits down next to them and puts his head on their shoulder, “All you need is a little help from a friend. And I’m always here for ya.”
They sit like this until Y/N’s breathing calms. They take one more deep breath, “You know what John? You’re right.”
John gets up and smiles, (in spanish) “That’s the spirit, baby!” He grabs Y/N’s hand and leads them to the stage.
Paul hands Y/N the mic and winks, “Good luck, mate.”
Y/N grabs the mic and smiles a bit unsure, “Thanks,” and the stadium goes silent. A single person decides this is the right moment to cough.
Y/N is unsure if they should start and they look over at John and Paul who are mouthing, “Go on! Go on!”
They put their mouth to the mic and a loud screeching goes over the speakers. The crowd cowers and Y/N quietly apologizes. They stand their for a second and finally start, 🎶“When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me. Speaking words of wisdom, let it be~”🎶
The crowd, John, Paul, and Elon all stand in amazement as they listen to what sounds like angels from the heaven above. Every note is sung beautifully and not a single word said wrong. John and Paul share a kiss as Elon wipes a single tear from his eye.

Y/N basks in the fame and gives all the energy they have in that one moment. When the song finishes, they stand there for a second until the crowd erupts in applause. People are shouting, “Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” and some are even asking them to sign their faces. Y/N blushes and thanks the crowd.
John, Paul, and Y/N all stand on stage as they bow to the crowd who has been continuously cheering for the past five minutes. Finally their act is over and they head off the stage. Their legs feel like jelly as they retreat behind the stage.
“God, you were great out there, darling!” Paul shouts to Y/N.
“You too as always, Paul!” Y/N blushes, “And you too John! Your voice was gorgeous!”
“Yeah, John! Couldn’t find a better lead singer!”
John blushes, (In spanish) “Come on guys… I couldn’t have done it without you tw-” He stops and stands, staring at the site in front of him. John crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow, “Hi, Freddie.”

Freddie Mercury stands in front of the rest of Queen and puts a hand on his hip, “John,” He flips his hair and then smiles at Paul, “Hey, Paul.”
Paul nods his head at Freddie, but then becomes serious again after John frowns at him.
“Where’s the rest of the band?” Brain looks behind the two Beatles, “Can’t keep track of them I guess?” He scoffs, “I’d hate to meet your sad excuse for a manager.”

John and Paul become red, (In spanish) “Look here!” John points a finger at Brian. Brian rolls his sleeves up, ready to fight.
Y/N intervenes, “This isn’t like you!” They stick their hands out between the bands.
Brian calms down a bit, “You’re right, we don’t have to put up with them, right Y/N?”
Y/N starts to sweat.
John raises an eyebrow, (In spanish) “Why the hell are you talking to our manager? I thought they were some kind of sad excuse?”
Brian shakes his head, “Your manager? They’re our manager.”
Y/N wants to disappear.
(In spanish) “Your manager?” John looks down at Y/N, “Y/N? What the hell is going on?”
They put their hands down and take a deep breath, “I wanted to keep it a secret because I knew you two hated each other, but I guess the cat’s outta the bag.”
The two bands wait in silence.

“My landlord raised my rent and the Cyber Truck I have costs half of my rent. I had to take two jobs since…” They look around and see everyone staring at them. Believing they're losing the crowd, they try to explain themself, “I wouldn’t pick a different job even if I could! These past years have been the best and I don’t care if you two hate each other…” They look between the bands, “I love you both so much.”
Y/N starts to sniffle as Roger breaks away from the group. He puts a hand on their shoulder, “It’s ok Y/N. We love you too. Queen could never find a better manager.” He looks to the Beatles and gestures for John to come over.

John puts a hand on their back and starts, “That’s exactly how the Beatles feel. We love you, Y/N.”
Y/N’s tears start to dry and they smile between the bands, “Oh, you guys!” The bands all come together to give Y/N one giant hug. This was the first time in years Queen and the Beatles have gotten along and Y/N, despite how stressful the day has been, couldn’t be happier.
“Is that Elon Musk?” Paul points over at the man standing by the corner, scowling at the short billionaire.
“Oh! I forgot! We need to ban together and save David Bowie.”

Deacon raises an eyebrow, “What do you mean save Bowie? Is he in trouble or something?”
Y/N nods, “Yes! He’s been kidnapped by Sabrina Carpenter and Taylor Swift. Bowie’s currently under the stage in a highly secured room which no one except Sabrina can go in and out of!”
The bands stand in silence. Everyone is trying to compute what nonsensical gibberish just came out of Y/N’s painfully american mouth.
(In spanish) “Why do they have Bowie?” John puzzles.

“Not Important!” States Elon Musk. He walks over to the crowd, “All you guys need to know is that asteroid right there,” He points up to the sky at a shimmering light in the sky, “Is going to hit us if we don’t save him.”
The bands panic and Freddie starts to breathe heavily. Y/N runs over to him and puts a hand on his shoulder, “When are you due again?”
Freddie gives Y/N a concerned look, “In the next couple of… hours…”

Y/N looks at Elon and their eyes grow wide, “We gotta get this over with. Freddie’s boutta blow.”
Freddie looks up at the time, “Y/N, we’re gonna have to perform soon…”
Y/N nods and directs Queen onstage.
“But what about Bowie?” Roger asks before going up.
“We have plenty of people to take care of that! If you guys don’t perform, Sabrina and Taylor will be suspicious.”
The band nods and heads on stage.
John and Paul look to Elon and Y/N, “What’s the plan?”

Y/N looks at Elon, “Yeah… you got a plan?”
He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Duh.”
The four sit there for a second, “Oh my God what is it then?” Y/N asks, annoyed.
Elon smirks, “You, John and Paul, go down to the basement dressed as cops and ask Taylor what happened and why a Cyber Truck crashed into the building.” he nods in satisfaction.
“Wait. Didn’t you Hail Hitler a couple weeks ago?” Paul pipes in.
(In spanish) “You crashed a Cyber Truck into the building’s basement? How’d you get it down there?”
“Unimportant.” Elon says confidently in his high, nasally voice.

“Ok, and how do we get to Sabrina?” Y/N asks.
“You and I will go to Sabrina while Taylor is distracted and we ask for the code.”
Y/N contemplates his plan, “We just… ask for the code?”
Elon nods, “I mean yeah. She’s pretty stupid, so I bet she’ll just give it to us.”
Y/N raises their eyebrows, “Damn, aight. Little mean, but whatever.”
“You guys got that?” Elon looks between John and Paul.
They both nod their heads.
Elon looks over at Y/N, “How about you?”
“Bring it on,” Y/N says like a badass.

Chapter 12: Saving bowie

Y/N and Musk wait for Paul and John to be done changing behind the curtains of the changing room. They only have a short amount of time before the asteroid hits, Y/N begins anxiously tapping their foot.
Musk looks down at the tapping, “Could you stop? It's really annoying.”
Y/N stops the tapping and starts to bite their nails.
“How does it look?” Paul asks, strutting out of the changing room. He’s wearing a really tight police uniform, which accentuates his feminine hips and legs. Y/N and Elon both stare at his body until Elon remembers he wasn’t written as gay and breaks the trance.
“Ya look like a fag,” Elon yawns, discreetly glancing at Pauls shapely, feminine figure. Y/N compliments Paul’s legs and he blushes while thanking them.
(In spanish) “It’s a bit tight…” John peeks out from behind the curtain.
Y/N shrugs, “Sorry, it’s all we could find in such a short amount of time.”
John walks out from the changing room and reveals that his pant legs are so short, they might as well be capris. The buttons on the shirt are holding on for dear life and his chest hairs can be seen through the slits. Y/N starts to laugh and Paul soon follows.

(In spanish) “How do you look so damn good in that?!” John demands Paul. He circles around Paul to check him out.
Paul shrugs, “Genetics?”
Y/N gets up, “Ok! I think we’re set. John and Paul, you two go down to the basement first and Musk and I will follow.”
Paul raises a hand, “Do they have weapons?”
Y/N pauses, “Good question. Elon?”
Elon, who was immensely focused on reading Mein Kampf, raises his head and looks around stupidly, “Huh?”

Y/N sighs, “Does Taylor Swift have weapons?” They repeat unenthusiastically, running a hand through their hair. Elon shrugs and continues reading.
Y/N gives John and Paul a look and gives them a not so reassuring smile, “I’m sure that won’t be a problem. Taylor only has a very small… pocket sized… handgun…”

John starts to sweat through his costume, (In spanish), “WHAT? They have a GUN? You never told us that! What if I get shot? Or Paul?”
Paul nods his head at Y/N.
Y/N scoffs, “She won't use it on you guys.” She gestures towards the two Beatles, “You two are too important to just suddenly die off! It would be stupid if she killed you two.”
John and Paul give each other a reassuring look and turn toward the basement door.
Elon raises an eyebrow at Y/N, “You really think that?”
Y/N drops their confidence, “No, that bitch’s trigger happy.”

…

“🎶We will, we will rock you!🎶” Freddie Mercury sings to the crowd. The people are stomping and clapping as Queen performs. John and Brian are playing in perfect harmony while Roger is killing it on drums. Freddie is as confident as ever, “🎶Kickin’ your can all over the place!🎶” He’s jumping around on stage and dancing like nothing. He’s humped Brian a couple of times but has somehow kept freaky freddie in. “🎶Everybody! We will, We will rock y-🎶”
Out of nowhere, Freddie drops the mic and it lands with a loud crash. The crowd goes silent and the band slowly stops playing.
“Freddie?” Brian walks over to him and puts a hand on his shoulder, “Mate? What’s up?”
Freddie, breathing heavily with a hand over his stomach, “I… I’m in labor…”
Brian laughs a bit, “Look, Fred, just cause you had a bad taco, doesn’t mean
you’re gonna give birth to a whole child.”
Freddie looks up at Brian with tears of agony in his eyes, “I’m pregnant Brian!”
Brian drops the smile, “You can’t joke like that. We’re in the middle of performing. Pick yourself up and wait till the end of the show!” He starts to tug on Freddie’s arm.
“Brian stop! Ow! I can feel it kicking!” Freddie sweats.
Brian lets go of his arm and feels around Freddie’s stomach. He can feel the slightest movement coming from his stomach. It’s definitely not food.
Brian lets out a look of shock and directs the other band members to the middle of the stage, “Are there any doctors in the crowd?!” He asks the multitudes of people.
One hand raises and a woman walks on stage with medium length blonde hair and bangs. She’s absolutely gorgeous and has the most gorgeous body to go with her face. Almost like the movies, she walks slowly toward Brian, her hair flowing, her hips swaying, and her eyes glistening in the now setting sun. Brian swears he can hear the song “Cloud Nine” by George Harrison playing as she walks toward him.

Brian stands there speechless, mouth agape. He helplessly points in the direction of Freddie.
“Hello you twat! I’m giving birth over here! Swoon over some bird some other fucking time!” Freddie rolls on his stomach in horrifying agony.
Brian snaps out of it and watches as the midwife checks Freddie’s baby birthing area which all men in this universe have.
In the most seductive voice, “I can already see a bit of the head!”

Brian faints as he watches the nurse feel inside. The rest of the band stands next to Freddie as his birth is being broadcasted live on the stadium projector.
“Push!” She shouts.
Freddie, now squeezing Deacon’s hand, is pushing like he’s pooping out a block of Velveeta cheese.

…

Stepping over ashes and cement, John and Paul walk through the destroyed wall. The cybertruck is still stuck there and neither Sabrina nor Taylor are anywhere to be found. John pulls down the board Taylor had made for Y/N and looks over it while Paul digs through the rubble for ideas of what happened. He finds a couple of metal scraps and a bit of what looks to be a gun. He hopes it was the only gun Taylor had.

Walking toward another door in the basement, Paul hears muffled singing. Before he can investigate however, The door slams open, hitting Paul straight in the nose.

“Oh my God! Officer, are you ok?” Taylor asks as she gently lays her hands on his face.
Paul covers his nose and looks up at her, “Yes, yes. Quite fine… young lady.” He adds. He brushes some debris off his uniforms and stands tall, “Now, what has happened down here!?” He demands in a fake voice.

Taylor looks around and starts to pout, “Some man drove his ugly Tesla Cyber Truck into the wall while Sabrina Carpenter and I were rehearsing!” She folds her arms and frowns.
Paul the officer raises an eyebrow, “You two were performing today?” He tilts his head.
She nods aggressively, “Yes! And a madman came in and destroyed everything!”

Paul takes out a fake notepad and pencil, “Tell me everything that happened so I can put down the details!” He looks around and then towards the stairs, “Uh… but first let's leave this disheveled area!” He starts to cough obnoxiously, “By Gum! It’s wreaking havoc on my lungs!”
Elon and Y/N watch from behind a corner as the two leave. Y/N turns to John “ok, follow me.”
As they make their way to the door containing Bowie, a short blonde woman struts out of the room and it closes shut behind her.
Sabrina jumps a bit, “Oh! I didn’t see you guys there!” She smiles, “Hi Elon! Hi Y/N! Nice to see you guys again! You two doing fine?”
Elon gives a sly smile.

Y/N leans close to Elon and whispers, “Why isn’t she trying to stop us?”
Elon brushes his coat off, “She has the memory of a goldfish, my lady,” He starts to walk over to her, “Yes, we’re doin great ‘Brina. Y/N and I wanted to ask if we could-”
“Is that John Lennon!?” She blushes a bright red hue.

Elon, caught off guard, looks over at John and then Sabrina. He gives a grinchy smile and pushes John over to her, “Why yes it is! He wanted to meet you is all.”

John, awkwardly, gives a slight wave and smiles, (In spanish) “Hi, you must be Sabrina Carpenter? Heard all about you.” He shakes her hand.
Sabrina is now burning red and looks like she’s about to faint, but she somehow keeps herself together, “Oh, my, GOD! I’ve always had such a big crush on you! God, you're even dreamier in person!” She starts to fan herself and looks him up and down, “Well… as dreamy as you can be in a skin tight suit…” She stops and thinks about this for a moment, “Wait… why are you wearing a policeman uniform?”

John tugs on his collar, (In spanish) “Uh…” He looks over at Y/N and Elon who both shrug, “Uh… halloween costume?” It was the middle of summer.
Sabrina stands there for a second and smiles, “Oh! Starting early huh?” She laughs and looks over at Elon, “So what did you want?”
Elon grabs a hold of Sabrina’s hands and gives her puppy eyes, “Me and Y/N really need the code to that room over there,” He points to the door behind Sabrina, “And I know only you, my dear, have the code.”

Sabrina looks down at his hands and then into his eyes, “Of course I’ll give you guys the code! What’re friends for?”
Elon and Y/N smile at each other and get ready to write it down.
“The code is-” She puts a hand over her mouth, “Oh! I… can’t tell you…”
Elon and Y/N drop their smiles, “Why?” They ask in unison.
“Because,” Sabrina taps her chin with a manicured finger, “Taylor told me it’s TOP secret. Only I can know.” Then she points at them, “And she told me you two definitely can’t know.” She gives them an apologetic smile, “Really sorry about that.”
Y/N and Elon, defeated, nod their heads and turn to leave.
John steps closer to Sabrina, (In spanish) “Can you tell me?”

Sabrina, blushing, twirls her blonde curls, “I don’t know…” She looks up at John who is practically standing on top of her. She giggles, “Well, Taylor told me not to tell anyone…”
John pulls her chin up and stares into her gorgeous blue eyes, (In spanish) “Come on. I’m John Lennon, sweetie. You can tell me.”
Sabrina stares into his eyes for a second and starts to uncontrollably giggle, “Well… I guess you can know,” She asks him to bend down so she can whisper it and he obliges.
Y/N and Elon stare at them while Sabrina, loudly, tries to whisper the password to John. Y/N and Elon can hear the whole thing perfectly even from 9 ft away.

John stands up and smiles down at her, “Thanks! Really appreciate it!”
Sabrina puts a finger over her mouth, “Just… don’t tell them,” She points over at Y/N and Elon who are smiling and waving.

John nods and waves goodbye to Sabrina who is following where Paul and Taylor left. John watches her shut the door behind her and nods to Y/N and Elon who are already cracking the code.
Y/N smiles in amazement, “Wow, John! Didn’t know you could swoon a girl so easily,” They give him a playful jab to the side.

He loosens his collar and wipes the sweat off his forehead, (In spanish) “God this thing’s mighty uncomfortable,” He sits down on the floor, panting, “I don’t know how I swooned her either. She was literally just talking to a middle aged, overweight, sweaty dude who happened to sing and play guitar.”
Y/N laughs and looks over to Elon who was typing in the last few numbers, “This was so easy!” They exclaim in utter excitement, “I feel like I’m in one of those Mission Impossible movies!”
Elon rolls his eyes as the door cracks open, “God you’re unbearable.”
“Shut the fuck up Elon Musk.”

…

“ONE MORE PUSH!” The woman shouts out to Freddie.
Freddie’s in the birthing position on top of a large amp while Deacon holds his hand and a couple of police officers are fanning Brian. Roger is looking around for Y/N who is nowhere to be found.
“GOD DAMNIT, THIS BLOODY SUCKS!” Freddie heaves as he tightly grips Deacon’s weak hand.
“Freddie, I know you’re giving birth, but you’re hurting my hand…” John tries to say as politely as possible.
“FUCK YOUR HAND!” Freddie tightens his grip as the nurse’s eyes open wide.
“I see the head!” The nurse shouts, “I see the head! Keep pushing!”
The audience during this time has been staring in utter shock and horror. Parents are covering their children’s eyes and multiple people have fainted. An hour has gone by, but no one has left the stadium.
“Come on! Come on!” The nurse has her hands open, ready for the baby to arrive.
Freddie closes his eyes tightly and lets out a final grunt of pain, “GAH!!!”
Suddenly, everyone goes silent. Freddie finally relaxes and the nurse holds up the baby girl Freddie has given birth to. The crowd goes crazy, cheering and clapping for the newborn.
“Congratulations Freddie Mercury!” The nurse hands him the baby, “It’s a girl!”
Freddie lets go of Deacon’s hand and holds his child tightly on his chest. Deacon holds his throbbing hand and looks over at the baby.
“God, you’re gorgeous, little one,” Freddie smiles through tears in his eyes.
Deacon puts a hand on Freddie’s shoulder, “What are you gonna name her?”
“Hm…” Freddie looks up at Deacon, “Haven’t put too much thought into it.”
The baby babbles a bit and plays with Freddie’s finger. It gives a little giggles and looks into her father’s eyes, “Gaga! Gaga!” She claps her hands and smiles.
Freddie’s eyes open wide, “Gaga!” He rocks her, “I’ll name her Gaga.” He stops and stares at her a bit, “You’re a lady, though. That name’s not very lady-like… Lady Gaga,” He looks up at Deacon, “How’s that?”
Deacon smiles, “Lady Gaga?”
Freddie frowns, “What’s so funny about that? It’s a great name!”
Deacon chuckles, “I’m just kidding, Fred. Lady Gaga is a great name. Very you.”

Chapter 13: Bowie to the rescue

Notes:

LAST CHAPTER!!! I’m sorry it’s late. I have finals and I don’t want to fail :(

The door to the cell opens with a shock of electricity. As the entrance becomes clear, Y/N can see two dog bowls with what looks like Dinty Moore Beef Stew and water, a bucket in the corner which they can only assume is for when David had to do his business, a mattress with springs protruding from every side, and a sad little shriveled shadow of a man curled up in the corner. He had duck tape across his mouth, stopping him from screaming. His hair was thinning and the only thing he had on was a potato sack.
“Oh my God! David!” Y/N rushes to his side and starts to stroke his thinning hair, “What did they do to you? Was it torture?” After realizing David cannot speak with tape on his mouth, Y/N rips it off and Bowie gives a yelp of pain.
“God it was awful!” His eyes start to tear, “I was running out for Mick then next thing I know, I’m in this God awful room with nothing on but this potato sack!” He grabs Y/N’s hand, “I never got to tell Mick just how much I loved him…”
Y/N looks to Elon and John and proceeds to help Bowie up from his sitting position.
“How’s Mick?” Bowie grunts as he gets on his feet.
Y/N shrugs their shoulders, “I’m not sure…”
Elon interrupts Y/N before they could come up with a reason, “I have no clue where Mick is, but Freddie’s giving birth to his baby right this second.”
Y/N slaps Elon as Bowie stands in utter shock. Bowie runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head, “Y/N, what?”
Y/N doesn’t know how to respond. They fold their arms protectively and sighs, “I’m not sure how to put this, but-”
Elon jumps in again, “Jagger and Freddie were banging behind your back and now Freddie’s pregnant and Mick is nowhere to be found, ok? Now we have to go or else Taylor and Sabrina are going to find out we have you,” The room is completely silent. Bowie is shaking his head in conviction and Y/N is on the verge of slapping Elon again, but they know Elon’s right. Elon looks around and raises his eyebrows, “Well let’s go.”
He starts to make his way up the stairs and the other three follow. Y/N helps David walk up the stairs by letting him rest an arm on their shoulder and John follows quietly behind.
“Was that true Y/N?” David mumbles.
“Yeah…” Y/N responds, “I’m really sorry David. You two seemed so happy too.”
David feels tears filling his eyes. He thought Mick really loved him. He had never grown so close to a person before, “I thought we were happy too…”
It’s a short walk up to the stage. Turning the corner, Elon sees Freddie, clothed now, holding Lady Gaga, his baby, in his arms while Deacon stands next to him with a hand on his shoulder. Freddie’s face is red and his chest heaves as he stumbles behind stage. Brian has a blanket around him and the phat blonde nurse is massaging his shoulders. Roger runs over to Y/N, throwing David Bowie off of their shoulder to embrace them.
“Y/N! You saved us!” Roger pulls Y/N in a hug so tight that they aren’t able to breathe.
“Roger!” Y/N smiles and pulls him closer.
David Bowie gets up from the ground and brushes his potato sack off, “Hey, guys. Yeah, don’t worry about me… I’m just the one who can save you all from that fuckin astroid up in the sky.”
The people in the audience look up into the sky, the asteroid which was previously a speck in the sky had turned into a blazing inferno that illuminated the sky completely. The unthinking masses stand in silence for a moment before they erupt in wails of distress, running around as if they were headless chickens.
“WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!”
“I WANT MY MOM!”
“JIMMY? JIMMY WHERE”D YOU GO?”
Roger rolls his eyes and walks up to Elon, “They didn’t see that thing at all?”
Elon shrugs, “They were probably too busy watching a middle aged man give birth.”
Amid the chaos, John throws Bowie a mic, giving him a reassuring nod. Bowie opens his mouth but before he could get a sound out, two women run on the stage.
“You better put that fucking mic down, Bowie! Or Paul’s gonna get it!” Taylor swift and Sabrina Carpenter stand on the stage with guns in hand. Taylor has hers pointed to Paul’s head and Sabrina has hers directed toward her own face in which Taylor flips to face Bowie. The audience still doesn’t seem to notice because they are too busy with the asteroid.
“Taylor!” Elon shouts from the side, “Taylor, don’t be irrational here!”
Swift keeps her eyes directed toward Bowie, but directs her voice to Elon, “I think it’s a little too late for that!”
“What do you want from me?!” Bowie shouts from center stage.
Taylor speaks in a softer tone, “I just want you to put the mic down and come with me and Sabrina, and Paul won’t die.”
Bowie looks over at Y/N with desperate eyes. Y/N shakes their head to try and warn Bowie not to go, but Bowie mouths “it will be ok” to assure them. He slowly puts the mic down and raises his arms in the air, “Alright, Taylor,” He starts to walk over to her position, “Now put the gun down and I’ll follow you wherever.”
She gives a sinister smirk, “Good boy, Bowie,” She pockets her gun and pushes Paul on to the ground, freeing him from her clutch. He scuttles over to the other side of the stage to Y/N and starts to sob. Sabrina keeps hers in the same position. David stops in front of Taylor, “Ok,” Taylor gestures to the exit, “Let’s go.”
Right as she puts her foot out to walk, a man falls on top of her. Bowie stops dead in his tracks and looks up. George is smiling from the grid. David then looks down at the body on top of Taylor, it was Ringo. They didn’t know it at the time, but she was knocked out by the sheer force of Ringo’s sad little pug body.
While Taylor is on the ground, Bowie grabs the mic and sings “Star Man” as loud as he can. Suddenly, the asteroid stops right in its tracks. The people stop screaming and everyone watches as the asteroid slowly shakes with energy and blasts into millions of tiny rock fragments. The people cheer and Bowie ends his song.
“Ringo! George!” David puts out a hand for Ringo to grab.
“Taylor!” Sabrina screams, “Oh my God, Taylor!” She looks to Bowie, “Can you hold this for a second? I gotta make sure my Tay Tay’s ok.” She hands Bowie her gun and rushes over to Taylor.
Bowie looks down at the gun, shrugs, and pockets it, “My God, man. Are you alright? That seemed like a mighty fall!”
Ringo takes Bowie’s hand and slowly rises, “I’m fine, I’m fine.” He assures Bowie as he looks up to face him. Bowie gives Ringo a pat on the back as George meets them on the stage.
(In spanish) “RIngo! George! Where have you two been?” John Lennon shouts as he swiftly walks over to them.
Ringo and George blush in embarrassment, “We-”
“I found them in the closet,” Lucas, the janitor who is friends with all of the band members of each of the bands except for Brian who has yet to meet him interrupts.
John nods his head and walks over to the two Beatles. Instead of scolding them, he simply embraces them in a hug, “Been there done that,” He smirks and laughs to himself, “just nice to know you two kids are safe.” He pulls them away for a second and looks George in the eyes, “Did you wear protection?” George shakes his head in shame.
Ringo puts a hand on John’s shoulder and scoffs, “I did,” John looked dumbfounded, “Crazy for you to assume I’m the bottom.” They all laugh britishly.
Roger struts back over to Y/N and slams a hand on the wall they're leaning on. Y/N peers over at his muscular arm and blushes.
“So…” Roger begins, “I was wondering if we could go on another date?”
Y/N looks at him with shock and confusion, “Wait, that was a date?”
Roger raises his eyebrows, “Was it not? I thought it was?” Y/N smiles at his embarrassment. He continues, “Because it was just us two and we were getting deep in conversation and stuff. If you don’t think it was a date then it doesn’t have to have been a date. Like really I won’t be offended, but I was hoping- or not hoping I mean thinking it was a date-”
Y/N grabs Roger’s head and presses their lips to his. He pulls their face closer and they share a kiss.
Elon walks over to the two, “Ok, ok. Break up the kissy kissy party. If I can’t get any, then you two can’t either.”
Y/N puts out a hand to Elon, “Thanks mister, Musk,” Elon takes their hand, “I didn’t think you were a good person.”
Elon blushes, “Awww, you really thought that?” He takes his hand away and puts a finger to his chin, “Hm… I guess I have to repay you for, you know, saving the world and everything.” Y/N raises an eyebrow, “How ‘bout I pay off your Tesla debt? How does that sound?”
Y/N’s eyes grow big and they smile from ear to ear, “Really!? Oh my God, thank you Elon! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
Elon blushes and gives his heart out to Y/N, which looked suspiciously similar to a Roman salute.
“Yeah, I’m not doing that,” Y/N states. Then they realize two policemen have taken Sabrina and Taylor into custody. Y/N saunters over to them and smiles, “Excited for prison Taylor?” Y/N taunts.
Taylor and Sabrina are holding hands behind their backs since they're handcuffed and can’t do it properly. Taylor gives Y/N a snarl, “Shut up, bitch. All I ever wanted was some peace and quiet.”
Y/N lowers their eyebrows, “Killing everyone on the face of the planet wouldn’t help.”
Sabrina turns to Taylor, “Are we going to jail?”
“Yes. We won't be out for a while, sweetie.” Taylor dejectedly answers.
Sabrina starts to cry and Freddie Mercury overhears the commotion. He walks over to the police, “Let them go,” He states.
Y/N, dumbfounded, stares at Freddie Mercury as he pays the cops in a stack of cash he had in his pocket, “What the fuck Freddie?” Y/N sees Freddie Mercury is not moved by this statement and gives a dramatic motion toward Sabrina and Taylor Swift who are also surprised, “THEY TRIED TO FUCKIN BLOW UP THE EARTH.” Sabrina gives Freddie a wave.
Freddie walks over to Taylor. She stares at him contemptuously, “What is it Mercury?”
“Why do you hate gay men?” Freddie questions her, “What do you want?”
Taylor rolls her eyes, “Look, I don’t hate gay men….” She looks over at Sabrina lovingly and then down at her feet, “It’s just… as you know, women cannot give birth, but Sabrina and I just need a baby in our lives. We’ve always wanted to be parents.” She looks Freddie in the eyes, “But we aren’t able to have a child since no men have been willing to let us adopt their child. You know, on the account that we say we hate gay men…”
Freddie walks away for a second to Deacon who is holding Gaga. They speak for a second and John gives Freddie a confused look and hands him Lady. He plays with her tiny hands as he walks back over to Taylor.
“Now you be a good girl for Daddy, ok?” He tickles her nose and holds her out to Taylor.
Taylor reaches her hands out and takes the girl, “Freddie, I can’t.”
Freddie solemnly answers, “I’m a busy rockstar without a husband, I won’t be able to raise her right. Also, frankly, I’m not ready.”
Taylor starts to cry and thanks Freddie while Sabrina admires their new baby.
“Wow, Fred. That was a very admirable thing to do.” Y/N puts a hand on his shoulder.
Freddie laughs and nods his head, “Yeah… I wasn’t ready for the responsibility.”
“Gaga’s gonna say her first words!” Taylor shouts.
Everyone watches as Lady Gaga opens her mouth, “Ra ra ra ah ah ah,” She sings into a mic Taylor Swift is holding up to her mouth. The audience cheers her on and Lady Gaga performs “Bad Romance”. Her little baby body runs up and down that stage as the members of the Beatles and Queen join her.
While Lady Gaga sings, Mick Jagger runs on stage.
“Bowie! I have to tell you I love you!” Mick shouts.
Bowie turns his head. A look of disgust rises on his face, “You had your chance! CHEATER!” Out of nowhere, a cyber truck flies from the sky and shoots Mick with a laser, disintegrating his cheating ass into a burst of red paste. The audience cheers which was strange because they didn’t know he cheated on Bowie in the first place.
Years and years later, George ended up marrying Ringo and they moved to San Francisco. Freddie Mercury and John Deacon moved in together and traveled the globe performing their newest album. Brian and the blonde went out for a couple of years, but the blonde ultimately ended up leaving him for Damon Albarn around ‘97. John Lennon converted to scientology and Paul cut ties with him after that. Paul then went on to become the king of Bavaria. Sabrina Carpenter and Taylor Swift got married illegally (lesbian marriage is not allowed in this universe) and lived happily in a little cottage with Lady Gaga. Elon Musk was killed in a Tesla Cyber Truck accident after trying to test drive the newest self driving model. And Roger and Y/N got married and had 5 children.
They all lived happily ever after.
The end.