angel | dealor

nineteen

John

It had been about a week since the show, and Roger's trip. I've never had a scarier experience in my whole life. Luckily it wasn't a bad trip, all he did was giggle and stare into space, as well as tell me how cool he thought the funky colours of Brian's walls were. That led me to believe he was hallucinating, or something along those lines.

Brian's room is beige. Beige.

Freddie's friend had dropped the three of us off at Brian's and offered to come around with our stuff the next day so we could unload it. We would've done it straight away, but there was no way Roger could go home and see his mum in the state he was in. We somehow managed to hide him from Brian's parents. They're quite laid back, so didn't mind having two squatters for the night, especially seeing as one of them "had a headache" and was going "straight to bed", not to be seen for the rest of the night.

Still, like I said, not a bad trip. I'd hardly experienced worse, considering it was the first time ever seeing anyone on drugs, but it didn't seem bad. He laughed a lot and told me he loved me. I didn't really take it as a truthful, fully thought-through statement, considering he was also all cuddly with Brian. It was cute, though. Brian was getting pissy with him for being clingy, but Rog just kept telling him he loved him. He'd always add that he loved me the most afterwards. He didn't speak much at all other than to tell us we were loved.

A week later and I'm sat in the year twelve common room, waiting for the others to show up. The first to show was Freddie, and he smiled nervously when he saw me. That didn't sit right.

"Rog and Brian have got physics workshop, or something like that. Anyway, they won't be here for the first half hour or something.." He trailed off, sitting across from me. He seemed to be desperately searching for something to say. "We.. We need to talk."

Oh no.

"About..?" I prompted, praying to God that it wouldn't be too bad.

"Roger."

Guess God hates me.

"At... At the show, last week? You know, when I found him?" I nodded. "Well, he wasn't alone... I-I don't know if it was whatever he took, or... I thought you deserved to know... Just kissing. One kiss. I would have told you sooner, but I didn't want you to be upset whilst he was spaced out, it wouldn't have helped anyone.." He rambled out, his usual confident demeanour nowhere to be found. A frustrated sigh left my lips and I looked down at the table. Why was I so stupid? How had I let him back in, just to hurt me again? He wouldn't change, I knew he wouldn't. It was just wishful thinking, and a whole lot of desperation.

With tears in my eyes I got up and slowly made my way to the other side of the table to wrap Freddie in a hug. He was clearly upset at having to break the news.

"Thanks for telling me.." I mumbled, squeezing him tight. Part of me wanted to hate him, but I knew it wasn't him who cheated on me. Again.

"I wasn't sure about telling you... You make each other so happy, he's clearly head over heels," Freddie sighed, slowly pulling back to look at me. "I'd feel guilty if I ruined it. But I'd feel guilty if he got away with that." My heart sunk for the boy. He really had found himself in a tricky situation, having to make the decision between his best friend's happiness and doing the right thing: telling me the truth. I'm glad he told me. I loved Roger, I really did. I couldn't bring myself to hate him, not in a million years. He could cheat as many times as he wanted, but he'd still own my heart. One look into those beautiful blue eyes and he had me melting, which was probably why he'd hurt me, and I knew it would happen again and again if I never told him off. I really thought he was changing, he'd stopped partying every weekend and instead stayed in to study whilst the three of us went out. Or, if he did come with us, he'd hardly drink and stay by my side. It wasn't something I asked him to do, but I appreciated that he was trying to change.

Shame it didn't work.

"I've got to go. Tell Roger to come to the music room when he gets back," I said, waiting for an affirmative nod that he'd heard me before grabbing my bag and leaving the room.

———

Roger

"John? Are you- Oh, hi," I smiled when I saw my boyfriend sat in the corner of one of the practise rooms in our school's music block. He was sitting at the piano bench. "I didn't realise you could play."

"I can't," He said, a faint smile playing on his lips. I could see through it, however. His eyes were full of sadness, and the blank expression on Freddie's face when he told me that John wanted to talk told me that this couldn't be good. Whatever it was, I just hoped he wouldn't leave me again.

John being around meant everything to me. I'd never felt safer than sleeping in his arms, never felt more loved than when I stared into his eyes. I couldn't lose that.

I had a feeling that I already had. Although he wouldn't make eye contact, I could sense the absence of that spark. The happy glint in his gaze.

"It's just a bit of fun, really. I've kind of been teaching myself little things, but I'm not good," He told me, slowly turning his body towards mine. Still, his gaze remained low. "We... Sit down, Rog." He patted the space beside him on the bench, biting his lip. My heart was racing, and I was desperately wracking my brains to figure out what I'd done this time.

Thoughts were whirring through my mind at a million miles an hour, memories of the last few weeks. Surely I couldn't do something wrong and not even notice - John wasn't that petty, and I'd like to say I wasn't that ignorant to his feelings. It's not like I'd recently had a knock to the head that would cause me to forget. Unless...

"I don't know what you took last week. Or how much you remember of your experience, but I've heard what you did. I believed in you, Roger. I did. I thought you'd changed for me."

Fuck. So I had done something. What, exactly? I wasn't sure. What thought went through my mind that decided taking a pill from a random stranger was going to get me in less trouble than having a drink? I've always been good at handling alcohol, so even if I'd taken the drink I probably would have gotten in less trouble.

Would it be worse to admit I had no clue what he was talking about, or pretend he did and act as if I was keeping it from him?

"I... I don't remember... I'm sorry, John.." My voice was quiet, cracking in places. It didn't come out how I'd expected, and internally I was cursing myself for sounding so weak. I shouldn't have been, this boy was meant to be the one person allowed to see my weakness, but I was starting to feel as if I no longer deserved that privilege.

"You, kissing someone else? You don't remember? Oh, that's great." Never before had I heard John speak with such sarcasm in his tone, and it told me I'd done wrong. Very wrong. "Anyway. I'm not going to drag this out. I, I-" He broke off, turning his head away from my gaze to compose himself, to wipe his eyes and take a deep breath. "I think it would be best if we broke up. Properly. Don't even try to argue, Roger. You had your chance, I've made my mind up this time."

No. No. No.

This wasn't happening.

My mind was clouding again. My body felt hot, my palms sweating. He was leaving me. John Deacon was leaving me. The only boy I'd ever loved. Only person. Anyone could tell me that there's more fish in the sea, that at sixteen I had bigger things to worry about and was bound to find someone else anyway, but I didn't want anyone else. I wanted John.

"John, I-"

"Don't. I'll miss you, Rog. Thanks for giving me a good time, and thank you for looking out for me. I'll find a new biology tutor."

He got up from the bench, grabbed his bag, and walked out the door. For a brief moment I thought he faltered before pushing it open, but it was almost definitely my mind being desperate enough to play tricks on me.

He was gone.