Save Me (Roger Taylor FanFiction) [Wattys 2019]

6: A Threat?

*3rd December 1971*

I opened the door to my house having successfully forced the tears to the back of my mind with all my memories of Roger. All I wanted now was to take off my make up and go to bed but the light in the living room told me that wasn't happening just yet. I sighed heavily and made my way towards the door.

Lucas was sitting on the couch with the note I'd left for him sitting on the table next to the lamp. I couldn't really be bothered with this just now, I'd just finished having an argument with a man.

"Why the hell did you think I'd think it was okay for you to go to this?" He asked me in a calm voice.

"You didn't seem to care when I went to the gig yesterday so I thought you'd be fine with it, plus I didn't realise I had to ask for permission in order to go out now."

"Don't get snarky, Julie, I'm not in the mood for it."

"And you think I'm in the mood to listen to you giving me a row? You aren't my dad and you aren't in charge of me. I'm tired and I just want to go to sleep, give me a break tonight, please?" I asked, letting my stressed side come out a bit.

Roger's apology was still playing on my mind and I wished I hadn't shouted at him. I wished this whole thing hadn't happened and it could just go back to me and Roger; then I wouldn't be standing here right now being reprimanded for leaving my own house by my controlling boyfriend. But it wasn't my fault that this has happened, it was his.

Lucas rose to his feet slowly and I felt my heart beat a bit faster. Why could I not just keep my mouth shut in these situations with Lucas? It would make my life so much easier if I did.

"Are you deaf? I told you not to be snarky with me. If I was any other man I'd teach you a lesson that you wouldn't soon forget but lucky for you, I wouldn't do that,"

My breath caught in my throat as what he meant clicked in mind. I stepped back from him a bit and a feeling of both fear and disgust passed over me.

"Don't do it again, Julie or you will be sorry about it. I don't want you anywhere near those guys again. Not Roger Taylor, not Freddie Bulsara, not any of them. Do you understand me?"

"You can't stop me from seeing my-"

"I said, do you understand me?" He grabbed my upper arm a little bit too tightly and he squeezed it.

"Yes," I replied, trying to mask my fear and my pain.

"You are sleeping on the couch tonight," he told me and proceeded to make his way up the stairs, leaving me alone in the living room.

I felt tears spring to my eyes and I didn't stop them this time. I sat on my comfy couch, rubbing my arm and praying it wouldn't bruise. He couldn't actually stop me from seeing them, could he? What was he going to do to me if he found out they'd stopped by at the coffee shop? Wait, what would he do to them?

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"Could you just move your arm a wee bit to the left? That looks beautiful!" I told my client as I took their picture; it was a family portrait. This was absolutely not what I had in mind when I decided I wanted to be a photographer.

When I moved here two years ago, I had some pretty high hopes for my life; I was dreaming about an unrealistic love and an even more unrealistic job. It would be good to be a rock band photographer but I don't know the right people so that's that not happening either. My hope was to escape all the problems that lived at home but all I'd done was come down here and caused myself even more problems.

My arm had a rather large bruise on it from yesterdays argument that I prayed wouldn't happen again. Lucas was not the person I wanted to see this morning but I had to make his breakfast as if he was. Something didn't seem fair about that; he didn't employ me so he shouldn't get to order me around in the mornings and tell me who I can and cannot hang around with at night.

My life was a depressing mess.

Was this just going to be it? Wake up in the mornings and immediately have to make breakfast for someone who doesn't even say thank you; then come to my boring job and have to make an effort to make families look like they love each other; then on some days having to go to my other job at the cafe; then either go to a gig for a guy I can barley look at and go home to get shouted at or go home and say nothing to my boyfriend all night. Was that really going to be my life?

The loving family of three put the money into my hand and thanked me for taking their pictures when I was done. They made their way out the door and the four forbidden boys came in and my heat dropped a bit. Great, this is just what I need.

"Darling!" Freddie rushed over and kissed both of my cheeks. "How are you?"

"Amazing Fred, and you?" I told him dryly.

"Brilliant, we need you to take our picture,"

I sighed at this and tried not to look at Roger. I needed the money but was this really worth it?What if Lucas found out? I don't know what I'd do.

"Okay, I'll give you a discount since you are my friends but I still need a bit of money cause I'm broke," I told them, smiling a little but wishing it wasn't a joke.

"Of course, my dear; we understand completely," Freddie told me, a reassuring smile plastered on his face.

"Okay then, follow me," I told them, making my way towards the photography room. There was a white background set up and lights at both sides with the camera sitting atop a tripod in the middle.

"Do you wanna just stand around?" I asked them, taking my jacket off, suddenly feeling the heat of the room. They positioned themselves, according to height and stood around in front of the camera.

Their serious faces were hard not to laugh at because I'd never seen them look so serious in their lives. "Give us a smile will you? At least just for one shot?" I asked, stifling a laugh.

"No, dear, we're trying to be a serious band here," Freddie replied, the rest of the band nodding their heads.

"Oh sorry, Mr Mercury, I didn't mean to trample on whatever thing you've got going here," The other three members of the band cracked a smile and that's when I took the picture. Freddie looked like he was feeling attacked by us.

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"That's it done now," I told them, stepping back from the camera having enjoyed my time with the band. Even Roger.

"What did you do to your arm?" John asked me, sounding concerned as he drew the unwanted attention of the three other boys to my bruised arm.

"That? I walked into a door handle; it really hurt," I tried to laugh off my terrible lying but they all looked slightly unconvinced, especially Roger.

"It doesn't look like that," Roger said coldly. His angry eyes were focused on my upper arm; I was sure he knew what it was but I couldn't be bothered with him today.

"Well, that's what it is," I replied, just as coldly. I didn't want to have to lie my way through this but they weren't giving me much of an option. "Just let it go," I said, turning around to make my way to the main part of the shop but not before I saw worried glances being exchanged between the band.

They weren't going to let this go, were they?

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A/N

Okay so how much do you hate Lucas right now on a scale of 1 to 10: 1 being Roger and 10 being Paul Prenter?

I'm so glad to see that people are reading this story! It's really exciting even if it is only 35! So thank you so much! Keep reading!

xx