The Quiet || Poger || One Shot

Depressed

It's worth suffering in silence to hear yourself out loud, screaming for help.

Pete Townshend sat alone in the recording room. That pure silence that the walls created was, at some point, quite annoying. But in that place he could hear his own thoughts, not if he had stayed at home, or with the members of his band, or even alone in his hotel room. The minutes became hours, and the hours became days.

Nobody knew where he was. But nobody seemed to complain. Neither a call nor a visit was made to that place.

His only companies were those big, noisy instruments that were kept silent. Pete looked at the guitar, or at the drums, feeling that they were the only ones who could understand his worried mind. He had many problems, but the one who made him an inmate of the real world had a simple name: Roger.

That bastard! It was the only thing that occurred to him every time he thought of him.

But why Roger was it the fault of Pete's depression? Daltrey, simply knew how to be himself. If he wanted to wear jeans and an unbuttoned shirt, he could do it.
He was a mature man, ready to live his life as he wanted.

He was the one with the wicked mind and fantasized about taking him to his hotel room to be happy again.

Happy as it used to be when Roger smiled at him, or when he spent time alone with him.

But that word would never mean what it used to be. Not since he saw Roger with that girl, his wife.

The love in his eyes when he looked at her was... unbelievable. His eyes shone the same way Pete’s did when he looked at Roger. Everybody knew it, everybody could see that. The love in the air was pure and intense.

The more thoughts he gave to that idea, the more his heart ached.

His fists hit the
desk. He did not let the tears fall from his blue eyes. The guitarist simply sat in front of the drums and started playing, without following any rhythm patterns. His anger decreased slowly. But his depression remained.

“Which song are you playing? May I join in?” A soft voice spoke through the microphone. Pete jumped on his seat. He was not expecting that!

A man with very recognizable blonde curls looked at him with his big blue eyes on the other side of the window. The man waved his hand and entered the room.

“Roger? What’re you doing here?”  Don’t make eye- contact, you fool!, Townshend thought.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been missing for days.”  That enormous, shining smile on Roger’s lips remained.

“Nothing.  I was just… practicing. Y’know.”

That grin. Pete felt happy, but then he remembered that the reason for Daltrey’s happiness was other person instead of him. His heart ached again, he did not know if he could handle it anymore.

“So, why the sad face?” The blond took Pete’s jaw to make him face his own eyes.

Some warm feelings increased in his chest. Those silly feelings for someone who would never love him the way the guitarist does. He shook his head and did not make eye contact.

Quickly, he got up and walked away from Roger's body.

“Why do you want to know? It’s not of your business” Pete said.

"It's, in fact, I need to know what the problem is, because it's affecting the band leader." Roger walk a few steps to get closer. But Pete still managed to escape.