Stories of Rockfield (Roger Taylor)

Chapter Eleven

My stomach churns as I'm lifted off the ground, my head dropping back at the sudden absence of the carpet as support beneath me. I manage to hiccup the sick feeling away until Brian sets me down on the bed and everything comes back up. Brian jumps out of the way just in time but groans in disgust. With a heavy sigh, he opens as many drawers as he can until he finds a pair of pyjamas, handing them to me once he's located them.

"Can you change yourself?" He asks in a low voice so Flora and Kenneth don't wake up. I nod my head although I'm not completely sure what he said due to my drunken state. "Okay, you do that while I go and get you some water."

As soon as the door closes behind the guitarist, I use the nightstand to balance myself and stand up to get changed. I wobble a little but manage to take off my dress and put on the t-shirt Brian gave me. It's the shorts that are the issue. One foot goes in fine but the other just doesn't want to cooperate. I stumble across the room, hissing a string of profanities under my breath as I trip and fall all the way over to the window.

"Shit, Deb, are you okay?" Brian checks and places the glass of water on the nightstand before rushing over to me. I'm too distracted to even register the fact that Brian spoke, the sight outside the window too compelling. Roger paces back and forth in front of the house, nibbling his thumbnail nervously. "He didn't want to upset you anymore than he already did so he sent me instead."

"I want to talk to him." I state, my speech barely even coherent from the amount of alcohol I consumed in such a short amount of time. "He hates me."

"He does not." Brian reassures me curtly. "Are you sure it's a good idea to talk to him right now?"

"No." I shake my head, causing the room to shake even more than it already was. I grab Brian's arm as I fall back a little and luckily manage to stable myself. "But, I want to anyway. Will you help me down the stairs?"

"Of course."

Brian holds on to me as we walk downstairs, his grip tightening when my legs decide to give out every now and then. The front door is already ajar so he must've left it that way or come outside while I was getting changed. Roger spins around as the door opens, his eyes widening in shock at my appearance. I shrug Brian off and lurch forward, grabbing Roger's shoulders for stability.

"Christ, Debbie, how much have you had?" He questions, a mixture of worry and confusion in his tone.

"She was flat out on the floor with an empty bottle of whisky when I found her."

"Jesus. Thanks for checking on her, Bri." Brian nods his head before disappearing off towards the boys' house. "Are you okay?"

"I fucked it up, I'm sorry." I babble. "You know, if you want to try again, I'm definitely too drunk to stop you."

"What are you talking about? I would never take advantage of you like that. Come on, let's just get you to bed."

I cling to Roger for dear life as we make our way back upstairs and into my room. He grimaces at the duvet and quickly removes it, replacing it with a blanket from the cupboard in the hallway. As I lie down, he covers me with the blanket and leans down, softly kissing me on the forehead before turning to leave.

"Rog." I call out weakly. He stops and turns to me again. "Will you stay?"

"Of course I will." He smiles and takes off his jacket as he climbs into bed next to me. "Goodnight, gorgeous."

I wake up the next morning to the smell of bacon and the faint sound of Changes by David Bowie being played through the speaker in the living room. I attempt to haul myself to my feet but it's no use. As soon as the light hits my eyes, the room starts spinning and the familiar sick feeling returns. I lie on my back and close my eyes, taking deep breaths until the feeling is gone. Roger's singing grows louder as he makes his way upstairs and into my room. When I open my eyes, I see that he's holding two plates of bacon and eggs.

"Morning, beautiful." He chirps, sitting down on the bed next to me. I smile and sit up slowly, scared that any sudden movements will cause further illness. "You look rough."

"You just called me beautiful."

"That was before I looked at you." I gasp and smack his arm, mocking offence at his statement. "Seriously though, you weren't in the best state last night. Are you okay?"

"I'm more worried about you, to be honest." I admit, setting my breakfast aside while I talk to Roger. "Listen, I really didn't mean to freak out like that."

"You don't have to apologise, it was me that took things too far."

"No, it wasn't. I haven't felt this way about someone since Andrew and I just...this is very new, you know, and I just had a bit of a moment. I just don't want to ruin anything."

"I understand, this is completely new for me as well. I'm happy to take things slow, if that's what you need."

In that moment, something just clicks in my mind. A small voice, saying fuck it. Why should I feel so insecure and paranoid when Roger clearly respects me? Ignoring any negative thoughts, I lean forward and kiss him, wrapping my arms around his neck. There's a moment of hesitation from him, probably caused by the conversation prior to this, and he leans back, looking at me with a frown.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" He checks.

"Absolutely."

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This is a short one because I've had a shit week and I've got really bad writer's block so this is all I could manage for now. I'm not going into any detail with Debbie and Roger cause I just can't write that stuff, it makes me so uncomfortable. Anyway, hope you enjoy this! X