𝐴𝑑𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑| 𝑅𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑇𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑜𝑟 ✔

XXX

I  held the pillow over my ears, trying to block out the irritating ring of the telephone beeping. Again.

I heard Roger groan and stir in his sleep beside me. I was hoping that it would stop soon so I could fall back asleep before the obsessive ringing of my alarm clock starts, signaling me to get up and get to work.

Just as I heard the phone stop, I took the pillow from my ears, set it back under my head and relaxed again. Until the ringing started. I let out a loud groan, getting up in annoyance, I wrapped my housecoat around me, placed a cigarette in my mouth, to cease me from losing my shit while on the phone.

"Hello?" I asked, fumbling in my pocket in search for a lighter.

"Alice. It's your mother-" before she could even go on, I hung up, setting the telephone, quite aggressively back on the wall.

I hadn't spoken to my mother since the wedding back in August. I sighed, knowing she'd call back, and probably wouldn't stop until I listen to her obnoxious, irritating voice and what she has to say. Which would probably be a typical reminder of how my sister is better and I'm an utter disappointment, but that's when I usually zone out and think of a million other people I'd rather be having a conversation with.

Just as I predicted, it rang again. I sighed, before taking the telephone off the wall, answering it.

"Why did you just hang up on me?" she asked, sounding disappointed.

"Huh? I didn't, the cable just... Snapped?" I lied, sounding extremely obvious.

"Uh huh.. And you managed to fix it in 15 second's?" she asked, sounding – of course – unconvinced.

"Yep. Anyway, why are you calling at 6 in the morning, mum?" I asked, taking a drag from my cigarette, and sounding exhausted.

"Because, I wanted to know how you were doing" she said, with her normal stern voice.

I was silent for a moment, looking up at the ceiling in confusion, as I held my cigarette between my index finger and middle finger.

"You... Wanted to know how I was doing?" I asked, as if it were the most absurd thing my ears had ever met with.

"Don't sound so surprised, I am your mother, I can call whenever I like" I could imagine he rolling her eyes and placing her hand on her hip.

I tried to wrap my head around it. It was far too early to think about this shit.

"Mum, you've never once called to check up on me" I recalled from the dozen times. The only time she does call is to ask about my love life, career. And then compare it to my sisters life.

"I have so" she defended, but we both know it was false.

"Okay, anyway, I'm fine, I'm still in a relationship, and working at the same place" I answered the upcoming questions that I knew would be asked.

"Are you still dating that long-haired blond boy?" she asked, her voice tensing.

"Roger" I correct. "And yes I am" I answered, I'd forgotten all about the fact that Roger and I had fake dated at my sisters wedding. It seem like such a while ago.

"Hmm. He should get a haircut. Does he still attend University?" she asked.

"I doubt he'll get a haircut anytime soon, and yes he still attends University" I answer, rolling my eyes at the fact we were still communicating. I dubbed the dead cigarette in the ashtray that was on the table, under the telephone.

"Are you smoking?" she asked, out of the blue. I swear to God she can smell it over the phone.

"Uhh... Maybe?" I answered, not sure how to exactly respond to that.