𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 | roger taylor

II

If someone told me I was privileged, I wouldn't argue with them.

I hadn't known struggle like other young women my age had, and for that I was grateful, don't get me wrong. Growing up, I had everything I could want. In exchange for excellent grades and performance in school, my sister and I would be gifted with the nicest of items. Clothes in the newest styles, records from our favorites artists, anything we could possibly want could soon be ours with a little bit of hard work.

My sister, Amaris, was naturally intelligent. She hardly had to work for her grades. Me, well, I struggled a bit more. I was bright in other ways. I liked to use my brain power for creativity; everything else simply bored me. As I got older, though, I stashed that side of me away and poured into my school work. Not because I wanted things- I couldn't care less about what my parents bought me- but the approval of my family was something I kept close to my heart. Any ounce of criticism from them hurt like a stab to my gut, and as the youngest of the family, I got plenty.

I didn't have much to complain about. I had my life planned out for me by my mother, and as of now I was right on track. I had completed high school as top of my class, moved into an apartment that fall by campus, and gone straight into law school. I had pulled through one year barely passing, and was now on my second, struggling to keep my grades up to keep my parents happy. I guess if I spent less time going to clubs I'd have better grades to show for it, according to the words of my mother. She always had her nose shoved into my business.

After that night at the bar, I had expected to get home and fall straight into bed. I shimmied out of my dress and took off my heels, sighing at the feeling of stretching my toes, then noticed the piles of books on my desk. I remembered I had much more homework to do than I'd thought.

Against my better judgement, I slept for three and a half hours, woke myself up before the sunrise, and got to work. This was what my life had become since I had begun university. Sleeping in short intervals, relying on large amounts of caffeine, my head jam-packed with study material and exam questions and answers. My only free time was spent either studying or going out and trying to have as much fun as I possibly could.

To say I hated school was an understatement.

It was draining, to say the least. It took everything out of me. Not to mention studying law was tedious and boring. I was teetering on the edge of quitting for good. The problem was, I had no backup plan. This had been the plan since I was ten years old. I hadn't even considered another career plan.

So, I did my best to keep up. I felt I owed it to my parents to do what they wanted for me. They'd done so much for me, paying for my tuition and my apartment. I was grateful for it. Besides, a lot of people would kill to be in my situation. I really shouldn't be complaining.

Friday morning was bright, yet the air was frosty. Once I had completed last night's homework, I jumped straight into the shower, scrubbing off last night's makeup. The water felt jubilating on my tired skin. I dreaded going to university and spending another day in classes, so I held onto the fact that it was finally Friday, and I'd have the rest of the weekend to recharge.

After I finished combing through my matted hair and getting dressed in my comfiest attire, my phone rang loudly. I answered it, being welcomed by Josy's melodic warble of a voice.

"Morning!"

"Good morning." Holding the phone to my ear, I stretched the cord as far as it would go as I fixed myself a thermos of coffee. I was running late, as usual, so I'd take it to go.

"Are you coming to the show tonight?"

Ah, yes. The show. "Possibly."

"You have to! I'm not giving you a choice," she said firmly. "And it's Friday. We can get drunk, stay out all night! Don't you wanna see Roger again?" There was a teasing lilt to her voice.