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Ringo sat tapping his foot anxiously against the floor as he waited for Brian to turn to him and finally regard the fact that he’d been calling his name for a bit. But Brian seemed uninterested in his issue as he stayed completely engrossed in his conversation with the photographer.
Finally, he got up and went over to tap him on the shoulder. He had been feeling sick ever since their big lunch, and he had no doubt that it was something too spicy that hadn’t agreed with his over-sensitive stomach. This time, Brian turned to him with a smile on his face.
“Yes?” Now, Ringo felt bad for being irritated that he wasn’t responding. He probably had a lot he was dealing with right now, and would have been right back to Ringo to see if he’d needed anything. And his impatience— “Did you need something, Richie?”
Ringo only nodded, muttering something unintelligible. And now the photographer was glancing over at him.
“What was that, love?” Ringo frowned and glanced at the floor as another wave of nausea swirled around inside of him. Brian said something in the background of the white noise in his ears, and then he was being led back over to where he’d been sitting not two minutes prior.
“I don’t feel very good, Brian,” he whispered.
“Alright. How do you mean?” Brian shifted in the seat to face Ringo better just as the younger man groaned in discomfort.
“I think it was the food. Must have been something I was allergic to. I dunno.”
Now, panic began to set in, and Brian nodded curtly. “Do you need me to call an ambulance?”
He shook his head. “No! No, I don’t need an ambulance. I just... “
“Do you want to do the shoot another time?” Ringo shook his head. “Love, I don’t have any medicine or anything for you. Are you sure? I wouldn’t be upset. We could do it tomorrow instead. We’ve got some time.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine. B-but can we sit?”
A spark of confusion caused Brian to cock his head. “We are sitting…”
“I mean for the shoot. I’ll be fine if we don’t have to stand in weird positions, like.”
Brian glanced over at the photographer who shrugged. “Fine by me,” he said. “Whatever you need.”
“Thank you.” The photographer hopped up and began dragging chairs into the room, setting up for whatever he now had in mind.
-
The photoshoot went fine for a while after that. Ringo had felt more and more nauseous as the minutes went by, but he managed to keep it at bay so as not to disturb the others around him.
Words were said to him, telling him what faces to make or what to do with his arms, and the whole time, all he could do was nod as if he were understanding any of it.
Until he felt bile rising in his throat. The photographer set his camera down for a second as he made his way over to the four of them. Ringo only prayed he wouldn’t get too close in case…
There was a burning at the back of his mouth, and without warning, he bent over the side of his chair as a small amount of something came out of his mouth.
“Shit!” John cursed, jumping up from his chair. Paul also got up from his chair, but George, sitting right behind Ringo, rubbed his back.
He lurched further down and vomited some more on the ground. This time, a lot more. As his puddle of vomit grew, the photographer put his camera down and George began whispering stuff to him.
“You’re alright, Richie. Let it all out.” His kind words are enough to keep Ringo from stopping out of shame. “Don’t worry about anything. Just do your best to feel better.” Finally, his nausea wore off, and when he sat back in his seat, he realised the only one not staring at him in disgust was George.
His face turned bright red as he hurried to get up and run off to the toilets. George saw the second his head raised and he glanced around the room that he was mortified. As soon as he started to get up, George did, too, sidestepping the sick on the floor and following after him.
He locked himself in the furthest stall just before George appeared.
“Go away!” he shouted before George could even get a word in. “I just want to be alone right now, George.”
“I will in a minute, sweetheart. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“Did you eat something that didn’t agree with you? Or are you ill?”
“I think it was just lunch. Seriously, I’m alright.” George sighed, but he didn’t leave the toilet. Eventually, the stall door opened, and Ringo stepped out with an uneasy face. “I’m sorry for being rude.”
“You weren’t being rude, love. I was just worried.” Still, Ringo threw himself into George for a hug.
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. There’s nothing to be sorry for, love.” He smiled, despite the fact that Ringo couldn’t see him. “Do you still feel sick?”
“Mhm, yeah.”
“Why don’t you stay in here for a minute, and I’m gonna go see what I can do to help clean up, okay?” Ringo pushed away from George and shook his head. “No, love, I’m going to go. And I want you to stay here until you’re feeling better.”
“I am feeling better!”
“Richie, please. You just told me you still feel sick. I promise that it’s nothing to worry about, okay? If you’re not feeling well, just wait a moment, and I’ll be right back.”
Ringo rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”
“Hey,” George said, kissing him on the forehead. “It’s alright. It’s really not a problem.” Then, he cupped Ringo’s jaw. “If you need me, you can come get me, okay?”
Ringo nodded. “Thank you, Geo. I love you.”
“You know I love you, too.”