Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?

37 (November 15th, 1975)

Just wanted to give @AllHailTheDeakyDo some credit for the nice idea in the following few chapters! Thanks !!

ROGER'S POV

We were preparing everything backstage as the gig was coming up.
My hands were still covered in open wounds. Not that I was being a crybaby but drumming tonight would probably give them the rest.
I hadn't expected it to be that bad this time, especially since this had only been our first show of the tour!
I didn't want to turn down the concert, though.
I cursed at our landlord back in London who's fault it actually was that our fans couldn't enjoy a full-in-action Roger Taylor tonight.

I practiced some last wrist movements as I could suddenly feel someone poking my shoulder from behind.
I turned around and looked into John's greenish eyes sparkling at me.

"What's up?" I asked, spinning one of my drumsticks in my hand.
The bass player pointed at my hands. "Are you alright there? Don't... Don't outdo yourself tonight, I don't want you to get injured even more..." He frowned at my hands. "It looks very painful.."
"Ah, it's alright!" I waved his concerns away. "I'm gonna be alright, don't worry Deaky." I winked at him and he suddenly dropped his gaze to the ground, rubbing his arm nervously.
"O- Okay! I'll try and keep up the rhythm as good as I can, just in case!"
I laughed. "Alright, just don't steal my show!"

--

As expected, I didn't perform very well this time. My beats were kind of weak and not powerful enough but I couldn't hit any stronger.
I did my best, though, which made my hands suffer even more.

After the show I immediately rushed to Brian. He was in the middle of a crowd full of fans. They wanted autographs and Brian being Brian couldn't just turn them down and gave as many autographs as he could to make his fans happy.
I didn't think about our fans at that moment.
"Bri, you have to help me now, please!" I shouted at him as soon as I reached him between all the people.
I showed him my bloody hands which made him jump back a little.
He looked at the people, then back at me. "Sorry, Rog! I can't leave right now!" He shrugged, feeling guilty, whilst being pulled on his arms by fans.
"Ask the stage workers for help, I'm sure they know what to do!"
I squinted my eyes at him.

Wow. What a boyfriend.

So, he didn't even want to help me anymore. The sweet and loving Brian who'd probably start crying over a dead fly but didn't care one bit about his bleeding boyfriend.
I hurried backstage to get some bandages by myself.
Oh, I was so angry - again!

I took a glimpse at my drumset as I was running past it. It was covered in both - blood splatters from yesterday and even more from today as all the wounds had been torn open again by all the hand movements.

"Fuck" I cursed as I was digging through a small first aid set in the dressing room.
No one was around to help me, I couldn't even see any stage workers.
I pulled out a white bandage clumsily and tried to wrap it around my bleeding palm which turned out to he quite tricky with just one hand.

"Do you need some help?"

Still struggling with the bandage, I looked up at the voice who had just spoken to me; it was Deaky, giving me a weak smile.
I nodded. "Yeah, that would be nice, actually."
He immediately got on his knees and took the bandage out of my hand.
He grabbed a tissue from the box and put some desinfectant on it, then he gently put it on my wounds.
It burned a little but I could stand it.
"You have to clean these wounds first...! I thought you were studying Biology, don't you know these things?" He chuckled, then he started to put the bandage on carefully.

I didn't know that John could be that sweet and caring.
Well, of course I knew that he was. But I didn't expect him to be like that to me.

"Thanks" I mumbled as I looked at my bandaged hands which were still resting in Deaky's hands as he was securing the end of the bandage with a safety pin.
"Brian could really take you as an example." I pouted a little.
"Why?" He asked, now just holding my hand in both of his.
"He didn't have time to help me!" An indignant laugh escaped my mouth. "His fans are more important, apparently..!"

The bass player looked into my eyes, thinking about an answer, but instead he just blushed.

"Roger?" I heard Brian's voice from the door. "I'm here! Are you alright?"

John jumped up from the ground and turned towards Brian immediately. The red colour on his cheeks intensified.

BRIAN'S POV

John was with Roger, which calmed me down at first but then I got a bit suspicious.
Deaky's face and even his ears were glowing red as if he had just done something forbidden...
I gazed at Roger who was sitting on the ground.
Did they kiss again?
No, it didn't seem like it.
I had just surprised them.

Roger's hands were already patched out which made me smile.
I pulled Roger up from the ground by his arms and wanted to stroke over his hair but he just pushed me away.

"It's too late, Brian. My hands have already been taken care of." He waved his hands infront of my face.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just couldn't leave, the people.. You know.. I didn't want to disappoint them.."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Ohh, Brian's sorry!" The blonde aped after me.
I crossed my arms and sighed.
"Look, you didn't die without me, did you?" I pointed out, now quite annoyed by Roger's childish behaviour.

"Just because Deaky took care of me!" He mouthed.
"Oh, please!"

"Stop!"

Roger and I flinched and we turned our heads towards John who had just raised his voice at us.

"Stop fighting already... That's not what lovers do... They are supposed to like each other." He looked down, his gaze was sad. Then he simply turned away and left us alone.

I glimpsed at Roger.
Deaky was right. We were always fighting which was stupid.
"Hey, Rog... Let's stop this..." I suggested.

"Just stop acting stupid, then!" The drummer suddenly shouted. "These arguments only start because of you acting like an asshole!" He crossed his arms.
"Roger, please..." I tried to calm him down.
"I'm sick of giving you so many chances!"
"Oh, now you're exaggerating!"
"I'm not! You're being cold-hearted!"

And yet again, Roger was driving me insane with his senseless arguments.