NOTHING MATTERS - daisy jones

[track two] - the grudge

ROSA: I spent practically all my free time with those boys for the next two and a half years. Billy was... well, he was still Billy, but he became more tolerable.

We performed at weddings and proms and I don't know how many sweet sixteens. And we were getting paid! I mean, we had to split the money six ways, plus I had to pay for childcare, but it was a start. I didn't have to keep on doing so many odd jobs. I could even afford to take Sofia out for a meal on her third birthday. Now that was a big deal.

☆・・・★・・・・・★・・・☆

Rosa is shaking with the cold on Sofia's birthday. She has sacrificed her winter coat to Warren and the closest thing she has to a jacket is an old long-sleeved t-shirt that is two sizes too small for her.

Rain pounds down against the umbrella that Warren is holding high above her head and for once, she's grateful that he is taller than her.

Rosa tilts Sofia's stroller onto it's back wheels and hauls it into the warm diner. Warren throws the umbrella in the box by the door as a waitress in roller-skates directs them to a booth at the back, where the other half of the band are patiently waiting.

Graham glances up from the menu when he sees them approaching. His lips quirk up into a smile and he squeezes past his brother to greet them. Bundling Rosa into his arms, he presses a chaste kiss to her cheek, before kneeling down and unbuckling Sofia from the stroller.

Billy stands, offering Rosa his seat in the booth. "Thanks," she smiles, squeezing his shoulder as she shuffles past him, collapsing into the booth. He pulls up a chair, positioning it at the end of the table, and Warren squeezes in beside Eddie and Chuck.

"How's the birthday girl?" Graham coos, tickling Sofia's stomach until she's giggling. "Are you ready for your birthday meal?" She squeals in delight, burying her little fists in his curly hair. "Will we have a look at the menu? Do you want a milkshake?" Sofia's eye light up like a Christmas tree. "I'll take that as a yes," he laughs. "What flavour?"

"Strawberry!" Sofia threads her tiny fingers through his curly hair and makes grabby hands until Graham gets the hint, balancing her on his knee.

Rosa laughs at the pair of them as she tries to unstick her wet thighs from the cheap red leather beneath her. It feels nice, having all of them together like this. Everybody's schedules are so jam-packed that it's a rare occurrence for them to get together like this outside of band hours.

The waitress rolls up to their table, a pad of paper and a pen in hand. "Can I take your orders?" she drawls, words punctuated with a Southern twang. She bats her lashes at Billy and like a dog to a bone, he offers her his award-winning panty-dropping smile. "What can I get you?" she asks, grazing her fingers along the expanse of his shoulders.

And the moment is ruined, Rosa thinks.

Rolling her eyes, she leans forward on her elbows to catch the waitress' attention. "We'll take seven strawberry milkshakes and one cupcake. Do you think you can stop ogling him and stick a candle in that for me, please?" she asks, voice dripping with faux sweetness.

A rosy blush creeps up the waitresses neck and blossoms across her pale cheeks. She scribbles something down on her pad of paper and skates off into the kitchen with her tail between her legs.

Once she's well out of earshot, Billy turns his heated glare to Rosa. "Why do you have to be such a bitch all the time?!"

Rosa slams her hands down on the table and the boys make quick work of keeping Sofia busy while her mother and Billy have a verbal sparring match. "I wouldn't have to be such a bitch if you knew how to keep it in your pants for one goddamn day."