I awoke to the sound of an object shattering, causing me to shoot out of bed and hastily walk down the grand staircase of Roger Taylor's.
I hesitantly entered the kitchen and saw Roger standing in front of a pile of broken glass and what I'm assuming is orange juice.
"Is everything alright, Roger?" My voice startled him and he quickly spun around to look at me.
"Oh... Yeah, everything's fine." His voice was not the same as usual. He was talking with that familiar rasp and lowness. He even had a scowl plastered on his face.
I stepped forward to the mess, careful not to step on stray glass.
"Here, let me help you." I insisted and crouched down to begin picking up the pieces. Before I could even collect anything, I was yanked back up by the arm and spun around, meeting his bitter stare.
"I don't need your help." He said through gritted teeth.
Here we go again with that damn attitude.
"Rog-" I was interrupted by him yet again and I was suddenly being dragged into the living room and up the steps.
I became furious with his actions and yelled at him to let me go.
"I think I'm capable of walking without your assistance. Besides, haven't you done enough last night..." I trailed off my words and then yanked my arm away from his strong grip.
He took my arm again as we reached the top of the staircase. He led me to his bedroom, the room I spent the night in.
He opened the door, but didn't enter. He pushed me in and said, "Now, I want you to shower and do whatever you females do... But, once you're finished, don't put on your clothes. There's a robe in the closet. Put that on instead."
Before he closed the door, I quickly pulled the door back causing him to lose his balance just like last night. He composed himself and aggressively asked, "Dammit, what now?!"
"Why can't I put on my clothes?" I scoffed.
"They're wet. So, I'm going to bring you some clothing. Be thankful for that and stop being a sod towards me, dear." A bitchy tone was dripping from his mouth as he said that and it was irritating me, big time.
"But-"
"Carry on. I'll be back with your stuff later." With that he shut the door, leaving me flustered.
Something's really up with Roger. I think he might be a bit crazy... He's constantly changing moods. What's the word for that? Ah, yes- bipolar. He's definitely that.
I decided to comply with his demands anyway, just to spare myself of his torment. It will only be a short while longer that I'm here anyways. I'm leaving as soon as he comes back.
--
"Freddie, I need you to come with me somewhere." I said as I stepped foot inside his home.
"Oh, alright... Where to?" He asked while looking at me with an intent look and placing a cigarette between lips. He exhaled a stream of smoke from his nostrils and sat down next to me on the couch.
"I need to go...shopping." I replied hesitantly.
"Great! I love shopping!" He exclaimed enthusiastically.
"Believe me, everyone knows that." I remarked. "No, but seriously. I need to pick up some clothes for-"
"For who!?" He blurted out.
"For... Montse." I answered nearly in a whisper.
"Montse, huh? Resort to buying her clothes now? Interesting." He commented sarcastically.
"What's so wrong about that?" He shook his head and smirked.
"Oh, nothing. You're quite serious about her, huh?" He asked, blowing another cloud of smoke, this time out of his mouth.
"Very... Now, will you join me?" I begged. "I just need to get her clothes for today so she's not stuck with the same stuff from yesterday, and I just knew you'd be a big help, so please Fred!"
"Ah, okay. There's a lot you need to catch me up on anyways. So, tell me about it on the way. Let's go."
--
*POV - Montse*
After hours of lounging around in Roger's bedroom in his outrageously short robe, I heard the front door open. Footsteps began ascending up the stairs and before I knew it, Roger entered the room. Without saying a word, he tossed the bags that he was carrying on the bed and they landed right on my stomach.
"Gee, thanks." I sighed as I sat up and climbed off the bed.
His eyes trailed down my head to my toes and a tiny smirk broke out on his face.
"I, uh...got several pieces for you, so you have a lot to choose from." He stated.
"Roger... Thank you, but I need to go. Once again, I've overstayed my welcome."
"You're staying." He remarked simply.
"Excuse me?"
"You're not leaving. Now, I'd like for you to get ready now."
"Roger, you can't just keep ordering me around like you're my mother." I interjected with a cross of the arms. "I am going to leave, by the way. I just... I can't deal with the way you are to me..."
"Are you saying that I treat you badly? C'mon, after all I've done! After all we've been through!"
"Oh, please..." I murmured. "I've never had anyone treat me the way you do. Also, just so you know; the material stuff doesn't matter. The physical, mental, and emotional part of this...friendship isn't so good." I admitted.
He looked down at the floor and after a long silence, he spoke up.
"Listen... Please, please... Let me make it up to you." His voice was quivering and that instantly made me feel awful.
Curse me and my sympathy.
"I-"
I stopped, for his head turned up slowly and I once again looked into his now sparkling eyes. They contained a guilty look, yet there was a slight hint of deviousness.
"Let me make it up to you." He whispered.
"Fine!"
Dammit! How does he do that?!
He smirked and looked me up and down again, his gaze lingering on my bare legs.
"Well, I have to think of a way to make it up to you... Hm, in the mean time just get ready." He kissed my cheek and left the room.
I stood in the middle of the room, wondering how I got so wrapped up in this. In fact, I'm wrapped around his damn finger and I'm not doing anything about it.
I'm under his thumb... Under his spell...
