Summer Of '75 (Roger Taylor/Queen)

Chapter 23

Amelia's P.O.V.

Trying my best to keep pace with the over-excited drummer who was practically pulling me along behind him, I followed Roger along the pier as we made our way towards the fairground.

'Roger, slow down, for the love of god!' I laughed as I tugged on his arm in an attempt to slow him down, which didn't work in the slightest. Ignoring my plead, he turned his head and smiled at me.

'What's the matter? Your legs too short they can't keep up with mine?' he asked. My jaw dropped to the ground at his comment.

'I am not short! I'm barely smaller than you are!' I defended myself, giving him my best bitch face.

Roger just laughed at my reaction, 'Sure, if you say so.'

As we continued to advance toward the fairground with no indication of slowing down, I took in the sights and sounds around me. It had been a while since I last visited Brighton, and quite a bit had changed since then, specifically the pier. They had a lot more rides and attractions than they used to, not to mention it was busier, and I think this only brought out the inner child in Roger and I more. Anyway, after more fast paced jogging, we reached the entertainment end of the pier where we finally stopped to catch our breath. I stood there, panting, as beads of sweat rolled down my forehead, ruining my makeup in the process. I knew wearing it on such a warm day was a stupid idea.

'So, what shall we do first?' Roger spoke up, looking around him. His face quickly lit up when he saw a ride that took to his fancy, 'Hey, that roller coaster over there looks like fun.'

I looked up at the drummer in disbelief, 'Are you having a laugh? Not if you want my lunch to make a reappearance it's not. I've barely even recovered from that run yet - give me a chance!'

'Alright, maybe later then,' Roger chuckled, 'We'll do something a little less vigorous for now, yeah?'

I nodded in agreement, 'Sounds like a plan.'

As we began to walk around the attractions, thankfully this time at a regular speed, I noticed the two us had stopped holding hands after our breather. In a daring move, I reached for Roger's hand and intertwined my fingers with his. He didn't say a word, just looked down at our hands and smiled, whilst my heart raced at a million miles an hour. It's funny, you would expect someone like Roger to have quite rough hands due to the abuse they endured on a regular basis from his job, but they weren't. They were surprisingly soft - for a drummer. Needless to say, I enjoyed the feeling of my hand in his and, honestly, I didn't want to let go.

We wandered around the fair for a bit, whilst visiting some of the games stands where Roger and I would go head to head and try to beat each other at whatever it was we were playing. Whether it was shooting a target or knocking down a pyramid of tin cans, I came out on top every time - and I made sure Roger knew it.

'Ha! Take that, Taylor!' I exclaimed, as the stall attendant handed me my prize to add to the others after defeating him once again.

He crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at me as a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips, 'You know I'm only letting you win to be polite, right?'

I scoffed, 'Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.'

As we began walking again, I replaced my prize in my hand with my camera, which I'd pulled out of my bag. I made sure it was ready to use and then pointed it at Roger, before taking a quick snapshot of him when he wasn't looking. It was only when he heard the camera taking a photo that it grabbed his attention.