Queen Of Hearts | Roger Taylor

XXVII

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There were a million other things I would rather be doing right now, but I had made myself a promise and I was going to keep it. The building Roger lived in was close to my place. You could easily walk; it would be around fifteen minutes or so. I parked the car next to the curb, turning of the engine and sighing in exhaustion.

The streets were empty when I stepped out of the vehicle. It was still light out, so I was guessing a lot of people still were at work. I grabbed the box from the backseat and walked up the steps to his front door. A wave of cold air hit me right in the face while I was scrambling to get my key into the lock.

When I opened the door, the first I noticed was all the mail that was on the doormat. It was a pretty pile, having collected over the past weeks. I picked it up while I walked inside, closing the door behind me. I walked through the hall, immediately wanting to open the windows because it smelled bad in here.

The shared living and dining room was a mess. There were different miscellaneous items scattered everywhere. On the coffee table by the couch was an old pack of cigarettes, and remaining buds of those that had been in there still in the astray. The dining table still had a teacup standing on there and a plate that was empty. I looked back at the kitchen, not daring to go in there. Knowing Roger, he hadn't cleaned out the fridge and the food from five weeks ago was still in there.

I put the box on the dining table, not unpacking it. I took of my coat, hanging it over one of the chairs while looking around the room. It was weird to be here. I had spent so much time here last year and now it felt strange to even have the key to this place. It felt familiar, but also like I was in a stranger's house.

I walked around the table, looking at the pictures that were standing on the fireplace. He had not removed any of them. There were still two of me on there. One of me alone – sitting at a table in some restaurant with a glass of wine and one of me with Freddie and Roger – smiling while hugging each other close. There was one picture frame that was empty. I knew the photo that was supposed to be in here, but I am guessing he had taken that one out and threw it away. Couldn't blame him.

Making my way through the house, I stopped in front of his bedroom. The door was ajar, and I pushed it open. Just as the rest of house, this was also a mess. Clothes were everywhere. The closed was half empty – he must've taken a lot with him. He hadn't made his bed and the laundry bin was overflowing. I walked to the closet, taking out two tops that I was missing and wanted to wear. Then I sat on the bed, letting my hands roam over the sheets before lying down. The sheets still smelled like him. A mix of his cologne and tobacco. I closed my eyes, for just one second. Just a minute.

When I opened them again, it was dark out. I shot up, looking around the room and seeing that I was still here. The alarm clock on the nightstand said it was almost six o'clock. Did I fall asleep? I quickly stood up, grabbing the clothes I wanted to take and walking to the living room to grab my other stuff. It took me a good few minutes to get Roger's key of my chain, but when I did, I put it on the table. Then I left the apartment.

⋆

Right now, it was a Saturday. It had been raining all day, so I was at home, reading while listening to some music. Brian had luckily not taken his record collection with him – even though he wanted to, and I had to convince how inconvenient that was. It was a quiet day and I enjoyed it. I had just finished the chapter when the phone rang. I closed my book and bent over the coffee table to pick up the phone.