𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 | roger taylor

XIII

I squinted into the winter sun as I watched the two bandmates wrestle for car keys, acting like children bickering over a piece of candy. "It's my car, I should get to drive," Roger was saying, currently trying to pry the keys out from Freddie's fist.

"You'll get us killed, and do you even know how to get there?"

"I can find it!"

I glanced at my best friend. The two of us were huddled outside Roger's car, bundled in thick coats and breathing out clouds of vapor from the cold. "If you don't make a decision soon, we're gonna freeze." I was stamping my feet lightly on the sidewalk to get the blood flowing.

"I'm driving," Freddie said with finality, yanking the keys away and twisting out from Roger. "Come on, love, sit up front," he told Josy.

Roger and I climbed into the backseat, him grumbling quietly under his breath as he pulled on his seatbelt. It was a sunny, cold morning in late November, and the lot of us had been invited to Freddie's parents' for lunch. By "the lot" I meant the band and whoever else they wanted to bring along, which included Josy, Mary, and I. I was looking forward to meeting his family- Freddie never talked about them much, so I was excited to see what they were like.

I had been living with Roger for a little over two weeks now, and I could easily say I was content with the way my life was going. The job I had landed at Ramsey's was better than I imagined- I found myself looking forward to my shifts. Every paycheck reminded me that I was moving forward; I had started to split the bills for the flat with Roger, which had me feeling much more comfortable with our living situation.

Roger and I were getting on even better than we had in the past. I was learning more about him everyday. Like how he always had to sleep with his door cracked open, and that he couldn't cook to save his life. I'd started buying groceries and having us switch off when making meals- he cooks one night, I cook the next, and so on. At first it was just me doing all the cooking, but Roger despised eating vegetarian every night, so he started to pull his weight in that department. He had the decency to make the meat on the side, for my benefit, which I appreciated. But, he still needed a lot of guidance whenever he cooked. It was kind of cute, really, how clueless he was. He was getting better, I'd admit, but Roger still preferred to order chinese food instead.

We drove for about forty five minutes before we came upon a little house, burrowed between trees. As Freddie parked, I noticed him let out a small sigh, as if preparing himself for the encounter. Josy had a comforting hand on his knee, and the two shared a loaded glance before exiting the car, followed by Roger and I.

Mrs. Bulsara greeted us at the front door. She was a small woman, with a soft, heart shaped face and black hair tied in a bun. She reminded me of my own mother, yet much more kind looking. She embraced her son warmly, mumbling a name for him that I didn't recognize, before waving us all inside.

The house was warm as we entered, and smelled of rich, savory food already. It was a small place, but cozy- dark wood floors and furniture, shelves full of antiques, black and white family photos hung on the walls. Brian, Mary, and John were already in the dining room, gathered around the table and chatting with Mr. Bulsara, a towering, stern faced man who gave us all firm handshakes and nods. Another girl was in the room as well, who I assumed was Freddie's younger sister, Kashmira. She had long, thick black hair that hung to her hips, and tiny gold hoops in her ears.

After the proper handshakes were made, we took seats around the long dining table. I found myself between Brian and John, directly across from Roger, Kashmira, Freddie, and Josy. Mr. and Mrs. Bulsara took their places at either end of the table, taking the time to talk to us before lunch was ready.