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"𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭"
𝐈 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 of my surroundings as I woke up, feeling a bit of hot air spreading along my nose. I feel a tiny weight across my waist, I slowly open my eyes and come face-to-face with Roger, a soon-to-be hungover Roger. Although his arm draped over my waist felt nice, I quickly sit up and smack his upper arm to jolt him awake, "Ow!" he grunts. "Ow!" Then, he holds his forehead in pain. "Rog, you've gotta go." I whisper. "Why?" he whines, nearly rolling over, until I stop him. "Because mum nor PJ knew you were here last night, and they'll get the wrong impression if they see you here- arm draped over me." I explain as calm as I could.
"So gather yourself together, be a man, and get yourself ready while I get you some water and Advil." I climb off the bed and put on my dressing gown, while he tried pushing himself off of the bed. I walk to the bathroom to get the water and Advil he needed, and returned back to my room. I walk in to see him reading through my paper of lyrics I was writing last night, "Tell you what, this is good up to now." he compliments. "You gonna complete it and play it for the band?"
"When I get around to it." I nod, holding out the pills and glass. He takes them as I sit down beside him at the edge of my bed and gulps them down with the water, "Cheers, Lols." he nods, putting the cup down on my end table. "No problem." I smile. "So, do you think we can track down that guy from yesterday?" "I hope we do." he sighs. "I mean, he's got an amazing voice - no offence." "None taken, I agree. That voice is something that we need, we just need a bassist." I list. "Can't you learn bass?" he frowns. "No!" I chuckle. "Why not?" he groans. "Because I'm a dancer and a singer, I don't do bass. We'll just have to make a few notices and put them up around the bulletin boards at college."
"Who's gonna make them?" he asks. "You seem to forget PJ is doing graphic design, and he'd do anything for me... and mum. He felt like he had to be there for us after dad left." I trail off. "I don't know how your mum did it after he left." he says. "She's a remarkable woman is my mother." I smile. "She never gave up on us, I respect her for that." He nods as I speak, then, I grin, "Especially with us little shits nearly treading on her flower bed." He laughs along with me, "We were a bit troublesome, weren't we?" "A bit? Roger, we nicked sweets from shops." I giggle.
"Got a point." he nods. I stand up, "You better go." He groans and falls back onto the bed, "Oh no, Mister! You are leaving!" I pull him up by the arm and off the bed, "But... effort!" he grunts as I pull him to the window, "The window - again?!" "Yes, Rog! They still don't know you are here." I open the window and nod towards it. "Jump out, Taylor." He sluggishly ducks out and drops to the floor below, "How're your ankles?!" I smirk. "Bloody killing." he looks up at me. "Not as bad as my head, though." I chuckle at my life-long friend. "You'll live. Safe drive." "Laters." he waves and begins to walk down the street, right down to 'The White Hart'.
