keep it professional - r. taylor

12

~September 1975~

"Roger..."

"Didn't think I would be seeing you here."

"What? I can't have any kind of fun."

"No, I just didn't think I would see you at this run-down pub on a Saturday night, alone."

"Who's to say I'm alone?"

"Fine, then where are your friends?"

The combination of my confusion at running into Roger, and the weirdly tasting beer caused my brain to not be able to think on the fly. "You got me. I'm sitting at a pub, all alone, on a Saturday night, while everyone else my age is busy finding another drunken hook-up that they'll regret in the morning."

"That's not entirely true. I mean, I'm sitting here talking to you."

"True." With another sip of beer, I asked, "So, what's a guy like you doing here?"

"Nothing much. I needed to unwind a little, and this was the first place I passed by. What are you doing here?"

"It's a long story. I'm sure you don't want me to bore you with it. Plus," I looked over my shoulder and saw a group of girls clustered in a corner booth, all making eyes at Roger's back, "I'm pretty sure there's a few more girls who would enjoy your presence."

Roger turned over his shoulder, noticing the girls, which made them go ballistic. Just a small wave made them all blush profusely, and lean in close to giggle to one another. "Eh, talking with you sounds a bit nicer than heading over there. Besides, it's better to hear someone actually make one coherent sentence." I glanced over towards him, trying to see if he was joking or not.

"Fine, but I'm going to warn you, I get sidetracked a lot," I said, taking a bigger sip of my drink to get me through this.

---

Hours seemed to pass. Roger and I had found a table to set our things down at. I had continued to order drinks, even against Roger's warnings. I must be some kind of a genius, because my guess that the alcohol would taste better the more I consumed it was correct. I knew I was going to regret it in the morning, but I could care less right now.

"And he... he's just like the perfect little angel boy... and anything he does... but every time I do something... ugh, it's not pretty." My words were beginning to slur together. I was surprised Roger was able to keep up with the story. "Anyways, that's my whole spiel. Sorry for ruining your night out."

"No, it's all good. It was actually pretty interesting. Now I feel like I know something completely new that I didn't know about you."

"Yeah, that's cause anytime we're around each other, Paul has to make sure we're keeping things professional. It has to be completely business, all the time. Just work, work, work. Like come on..." Roger began to laugh to himself, sitting back in his chair. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just I never knew you weren't a fan of Paul. Most of the band is the same way."

"I know! Like we used to be really close when we worked together. Now he's being all snippy and bossy, and just being a... prick!" Slamming my drink back down on the table, the sound echoed through the pub. It gave me a second to realize that we were some of the last people there. I could only imagine what time it was.

"Anyways, I should get going." Standing up too quick was a terrible choice. I felt myself start to wobble, catching myself on the table. "Oop!"

"Here, let me help you," Roger said, taking one of my arms and wrapping it around his shoulder. He took his other hand and placed it around my waist, supporting the rest of my body. Normally, I would've gotten goosebumps when he helped me out the door. But right now, I was too busy trying to walk to worry about that.