𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 | roger taylor

VI

 "Your sister. What was her name? She's very attractive."

I held Roger Taylor's gaze for as long as I could manage, eyes screwed in annoyance, my jaw set. Was he serious? He was hard to read at times. The smug look on his face told me he had mentioned Amaris to irritate me.

I was used to it, of course. Growing up, Amaris was always the stunningly gorgeous older sister, with her dramatic eyeliner and smokey, dark eyes. I couldn't bring boys home, because once they saw her they'd lose their interest in me. Compared to Amaris, I was bland. Boring. The less beautiful version of the eldest child.

Roger's comments about Amaris certainly hit too close to home.

"This is giving me flashbacks to sixth grade," I began to muse, keeping my eyes locked with his. We were lounging on the overstuffed sofa in Brian's apartment. It was simply the four of us, Roger, John, Brian and I. Brian had invited us over last minute, promising wine, pizza, and card games. Currently, while John and Brian played a final round of Old Maid, Roger and I had wine glasses poised in our hands, staring each other down with intensity. "I brought home a boy I fancied. Well, once he met my sister, he followed her around like a lost puppy. I didn't talk to him again."

Roger's face pulled up in a half smile, amused at my story. "I don't believe that."

"It's true, I swear on my life! I never brought home boys after him."

"That's a comforting thought," he responded cheekily.

"Not to say I never hung out with boys," I said, although throughout high school, I was too focused on keeping my grades up to worry over boys. I often wish I'd had a better experience, without the academic strain on my shoulders. "I just couldn't let them meet Amaris."

"It's a shame. Since you won't go out with me, maybe I'll have to phone your sister," Roger teased, balancing a sloshing wine glass in one hand and a nearly finished cigarette in the other. He took a drag from it, blowing out smoke in the air above him.

"You're funny." He couldn't possibly be serious.

"Take it as a compliment. She looks like you, but-"

"But prettier," I cut in.

Roger paused, cocking his head as he studied me. "Not exactly."

I fought the automatic blush that crawled up my neck, shaking my head. The topic of my sister fell through, thankfully. I downed the rest of my wine, setting the empty glass on the coffee table.

My life had shifted over these last few weeks, and I saw it as a positive change. Before I had formally met the band, I was stuck in a continuous loop of school, homework, studying, and going out in the slim free time I had. Josy was my only friend, my confidant, my partner in crime. I was certainly grateful for her, but the repetitive tendencies in my daily routine were causing me to itch. Since meeting and becoming close with the band, however, a group of fresh faces was added to my repetitive life. I felt refreshed, like I had broken out of the miserable loop. Everything was looking up for me- besides college, which ached like a constant thorn in my back. The happiness and carefree attitude that came with being young and without responsibility was just within reach, at my fingertips. I was so close to reaching it. School was holding me back within its chains. I dreamt about quitting and following my own path, but knowingly refrained, for my carefully planned life would crumble if I did so. For now, I was getting through it. I was doing alright.

A few hours passed, and the four of us were still lounging at Brian's, lazily sipping wine or chain smoking, and saying anything that came into our minds. I didn't smoke myself- I've had asthma since I was five years old. Being around cigarette smoke was unavoidable, so my weak lungs had adjusted to it. It wasn't nearly as bad as it'd been when I was a child, luckily.