Being the daughter of a pub owner wasn't so bad...

You got to listen to all the new bands that come and go from the area, maybe even chat with some of them. Most of them were cute boys that you couldn't help but giggle and twirl your hair at.

But one band was different. They called themselves The Beatles. 2 guitarists, 1 bass player, and 1 drummer. 4, the perfect number for a band in your opinion. They played amazingly, and they quickly became your favorite regulars, didn't help that they were cute.

As you were wiping down the bar for the night, preparing for closure, The Beatles were still chatting away with a couple of birds and some lads... but you couldn't help but notice that they were sneaking glances at you... all four of them. Strange... but you had a job to do. That job wasn't checking out their... ahem... packages..

You put up your apron, the bar's only source of light was being illuminated by the street lights and the cars passing by. Whispers are coming from behind the stage:

"Ow- bloody 'ell that's my foot!"

"Sorry Johnny!"

"SHH! Can't you lot be quiet!"

"Lost that ability long ago."

You head over towards the stage area.

"Oi! She's coming!”

You didn't even have time to register who said that before something metal hit against your head HARD. You fall to the ground, your vision going black.

The smell of cigarettes and something boyish hit your nostrils strong, waking you up. You're tied to a chair, blindfolded and gagged.