Roger stumbles into the house, his long brown hair wet from the pouring rain. Roger and I had been living together to cut costs, which made the band suspect we were together. But he always has a partner and I was always single. I have always thought he was cute and lithe, but I never expressed that to avoid making living together awkward. Well, his girlfriend had dumped him two days ago and he's been drinking heavily since then. He walks upstairs to my room and falls onto my bed. "Roger, are you drunk again?" I ask, rolling my eyes. "Not realllyyyyy." He says, his words melting together a bit. "I'm taking that as a yes. Stay right here I need to grab the stuff." I say. He puts a thumbs up in the air, his face in my pillow.
I go downstairs and grab a cup of water, a towel, and a bucket. I walk back upstairs. "You're a dingus. You know that?" I say, handing him the cup of water. He takes a sip. He smiles at me, his smile drooping a bit. He puts down the cup next to my bed. (Btw imagine the bed looks like this)
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Suddenly I look at him and he's looking through my dresser. He pull out my diary. You know, the diary that admits MY FEELINGS FOR HIM. I try to get it away from him, but when that doesn't work I start to hope and pray that he's too drunk to read. "So I think I have a crush on Roger, he's cute, and friendly and really funny. He always talks about the band and how good his day was. But he also talks about his girlfriend ALL THE TIME. I wish they would break up already and I could have my shot. But then again, it's going to make living together awkward if we break up. What should I do? Do I tell him? His girlfriend is also really manipulative, and everyone's telling him she's cheating on him. He doesn't believe them for some weird reason." He reads.
Somehow, those were the clearest words he's said since he came back from the bar. His eyes go really wide and he puts the diary back. There's an awkward silence for about 30 seconds, and then he says "really? Is this a joke?" While laughing. I feel so embarrassed, I could die right here. I wanna run out of the house, but I'm too petrified to move. "I-" I am interrupted by his soft lips on mine. I jump back in pure shock. "Did you-? Did I-? Did WE-?" I say, panicking. He kisses me again and I don't even know what to do. Sooner than later, I start to really get into the kiss, but then I feel Roger trying to undo the buttons to my blouse I push him off. "What?" He asks, sounding genuinely curious.
"You know what! This is all happening way too fast, and I'm not doing...that with my drunk best friend." Roger gives me the puppy dog eyes but it still doesn't work. Clutching my cloud pillow to my chest I start hyperventilating. "What have I done?" I ask myself, then looking over to where Roger should be. He's not there. "What have I done!" I ask, springing up from the bed looking for him. I check the bathroom upstairs. Not there. I check the his room. Not there. The laundry room. Nope. The guest room. Nada. I check the downstairs bathroom. Not a thing. The living room. Thumbs down. The kitchen? I think you know what I am going to say. I check the pantry. No. I call Brian. "BRIAN I LOST ROGER" I scream into the phone. He laughs. "Oh you're serious. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU LOST ROGER?" He screams back.
"I SWEAR TO BRISUS CHRIST THAT I LOOKED AT MY PILLOW AND LOOK BACK AT HIM AND ITS LIKE HE VANISHED!" I say, starting to tear up. "HOW DO YOU LOSE A HUMAN?" He yells. "ITS REALLY EASY ACTUALLY YOU LEAVE THEM AT THE CHECKOUT TO GO GET SOME BREAD AND FISH STICKS AND YOU COME BACK AND THEYRE GONE!" I say growing more and more worried. " I gotta go. LOOK FOR HIM!" He says, before hanging up. I start running upstairs to grab my sock and shoes. I throw on a rain jacket and run outside. I slam the door and keep running. I have my phone in my back pocket. I call up Freddie. "MEAT PIES! MEAT PIIIEESSS!" I scream into the other end. "ROGERS DRUNK AGAIN?" He yells back. I stop running. "No, I was talking about a pie made out of raw beef. OF COURSE HE'S DRUNK!"
"Wait hold on darling someone's at the door." He says. The line goes dead for a minute and then he comes back. "So what were you saying about Roger?" He says, sounding slightly mad. "He ran away but I don't know where to!" I say, running down the street. "Yeah? He's been here for the past 5 minutes darling." He says. Well now I know where I'm going. "WHY DIDNT YOU SAY ANTHING?" I tell, my accent coming out thicker. By now, my legs hurt so bad from all the running, they've gone numb. "Stop yelling." He says, sounding angrier than ever. He hangs up. I scream loudly with my mouth closed. "Son of a- mmm!" I yell. I keep running. "God why is Fred's house so far." I groan.
I finally get there. I knock the door. No answer. I knock again. No answers. "I hate him." I say. I realize that he has a big tree on the side of his house. One of the branches leads to the bedroom window. I think you can see where this is going. I start scaling the trunk and get onto the branches. One of his neighbors gives me a scared look. "Keep walking Wendy, family business." I say, rolling my eyes. She walks away and balance on the thin branch leading to the window. Of course, it's locked and since most people know that putting a keyhole on the outside of a locked window could lead to trouble, I can exactly get into the house legally. So, I climb back down the tree grab a big rock and climb back on the branch. I throw the rock as hard as possible into the glass pane, which shattered upon impact. I crawl through the glasses, which cut up my knees and hands, but know I was too numb to care.
All I want is to get back at whoever locked me out of the house. Jk I know who locked me out of the house. I walk gracefully and quietly downstairs, my knees and hands dripping blood. "Miss me?" I say laughing. "Oh y/n, hi." Brian says, sounding terrified. "Who, locked me out?" I say smiling. John and Brian point at Freddie."where is he?" I say, holding the rock up at his forehead. "The bathroom." He says smiling. I have never thrown anything with more force. I throw the rock as hard as possible at his forehead. He falls down and I throw it with same force at his crotch. I walk back upstairs. I swing open the door to see Roger laying face down in the empty bathtub. "Hey." I say, smiling. He turns towards me, his eyes going so wide I can see his entire eye. "Whattt happpppeennnn?" He slurred. "Still just as drunk huh? Well, your little locked me out so I had to break a window and cut myself in the process. I'm alright though." "Oh alright."
"Get out of the tub dumdum." I say. He stumbles and trips out of the bathtub as I hold back a laugh. When he stands back up, he stands in front of me. I press him against the wall, with my hand against the wall, my opposite knee on the wall as well. I stare him up and down while biting my lip. Roger looks flustered, and turns an embarrassing shade of pink. I back away from him when I feel something round press against my leg. I blush and look away. "I- I- sorry- I- uh." I stutter. He flips me around and pins me against the wall. His lips crash into mine. I groove to the kiss. He starts to unbutton his shirt. I start to unbutton mine. When Roger started to unzip his pants, the door opens. Brian stands there, dumbfounded. He turns bright red while asessing the situation.
He says nothing and closes the door. "Cannn I tell yoouu a secretm?" He says. "I'm not drunk." His smirk sends shivers down my spine. "You!" I smile while pushing him off of me. He puts his hands on my waist. He stands there in his boxers, and I in a bra and jeans. I kiss him gently and run my hands through his silky smooth brown hair. His hands trace my figure. "Come on, let's blow this popsicle stand." He says, grabbing my hand. He runs downstairs and runs out the door. Before I get all the way out the door I see fred lying on the couch with Brian holding an ice pack to his head, looking traumatized, and John with his head between his knees, trembling. We run back to the house, the force of my legs stomping down and my knees bleed even more. I didn't care, I was with the love of my life, plus, bleedings only temporary, right?
When we make it to the house, I feel detached. I'm so far away from my mind, but my heart's guided me. I can't feel anything, but it's a good numb. He throws me onto the bed, and let's just say, our clothes looked better on the floor anyways.
