Drowse -- Roger Taylor

14

Leila's POV

Today was going to be my first real date in ages. I've had an anxious feeling in my gut all day, but I didn't know if it was from nerves or excitement. Probably both.

I still had a few hours to kill before getting ready, so I busied myself with random tasks to keep from overthinking the vast amount of things that could happen tonight. The Doors were playing throughout the apartment as I washed dishes, watered all my plants, and remade Nick's makeshift bed on the couch. I was in the middle of reorganizing the living room furniture when Mandy walked through the front door, arms overflowing with brown paper grocery bags. She dumped them on the kitchen counter along with her keys and then turned to me with a puzzled look on her face.

"The hell are you doing with my living room?" Her eyebrows were furrowed and she had a 'what the fuck' look on her face.

"Rearranging." I said frankly as I dragged an armchair across the carpet.

"No, no, no, I like my living room the way it is," she emphasized. "And sorry, but you have awful taste, so I don't really trust you to do any rearranging."

"Oh, get bent," I rolled my eyes but pushed the chair back to its original spot.

"Thank you!" She smiled smugly, satisfied with herself. "Damn, the kitchen is spotless," she observed. "Since when did you become such a housewife?"

"Just bored," I shrugged as I lit up a cigarette, using that to calm my nerves now instead of chores.

"Usually when you're bored you go out to drink and pick up guys," she said as she began unloading groceries. "You're just nervous about your date." Mandy smirked at me knowingly.

"No," I scoffed, but after realizing I couldn't think of another excuse, I sighed in defeat. "Okay, fine."

"Don't stress, okay? Neither of you are awkward people and you literally have so much in common. If worse comes to worse and you do run out of things to talk about, just start comparing the amount of people you've slept with or something!" She laughed at her joke while I glared at her.

"Ha ha, very funny," I replied sarcastically. "I just don't really know what to expect. Like is he gonna want to hook up again? Should I take it slow and not go home with him? I don't want to ruin this before it even starts."

"Just see how it goes, and play it by ear," she advises. "But if I were you, I'd try to figure out what his intentions are so you know what you're getting yourself into. If he doesn't take you home, I'd say it's a sign he might want something serious." The thought of commitment made my stomach churn. "But he is a rockstar, not to mention one with a reputation, so just don't get your hopes up too much," she concluded, silently implying that she didn't want me to get hurt.

I just nodded, considering her words as I took a long drag.

"Also, don't be surprised if you see me at the restaurant you're going to. I gotta make sure this doesn't go to shit." I couldn't tell if she was joking or not. I laughed nonetheless.

"Well, I should probably start getting ready," I said, as I put out my cigarette and glanced at the clock. It was five o'clock, about an hour until I was getting picked up by Roger. I had given him my address and number at the concert.

"What're you gonna wear?"

"I dunno yet. Maybe I'll just wear a wedding dress 'cause this is probably the closest I'll ever get to marriage."

Mandy snorted. "I can't tell if that's optimistic or pessimistic."

"Both," I shouted back as I retreated into my bedroom.