Somebody To Love - Maylor/Deacury

12 - Rain Must Fall (Part 2)

Freddie's POV

"Seaside Rendezvous, drums, take 9," Deaky spoke into the microphone before Roger started drumming. We had been recording Roger's bit for a while now and had just started a new take after he missed one of his cues. Again.

All day I wasn't sure how to act around Roger. I didn't want to say anything that might set him off again, but at the same time I was terribly worried. He had barely spoken to anyone since the incident at breakfast, but it was clear that something was off. It was even affecting his drumming, which was something that rarely happened.

"Fuck!" Roger suddenly shouted, throwing down his drum sticks in frustration as he messed up again. I exchanged a concerned look with Brian and John before leaning across them to grab the mic. I pressed the button and spoke.

"Let's take a quick break, okay dear?"

The drummer nodded slightly, then left the room without a word. He was clearly pissed at himself, but I knew that that couldn't be the only thing causing his frustration. I turned to the two guitarists, "I think I should go talk to Roger."

Brian sounded skeptical, "Right now?"

"Something's clearly bothering him. This-" I pointed at the tape we had been recording onto, "-is not like him." They stayed quiet. Deaky gave a little nod to show he agreed, but Brian just looked worried sick as he glanced over at the empty drum kit. I rose to my feet, "Brian, can you help John record his bass for the song?"

"Sure."

I asked, "Is that okay, Deaks?" Once I had received a nod from the bassist, I left the booth to find Roger.

I found the hallway empty and my search led me to the restrooms, where I found Roger looking at himself in the mirror with a hand on either side of the sink. He didn't see me as he sighed deeply, looking down. I made my presence known with a few soft knocks on the door, letting it fall closed behind me as I stepped inside, "Hey."

"Hey," he turned to face me, gesturing towards the door, "I'm headed back."

"Before you go, do you have a minute to talk?"

He went wide-eyed, clearly anticipating a serious conversation as he managed a choked, "Sure."

I wished I had come up with a plan for approaching the conversation as I stepped closer to the drummer, "Roger, look - I'm just going to be blunt," I spoke in a hushed tone, deciding to cut right to the point, "I know something's bothering you."

"What do you mean?" He attempted to play it cool.

"You've been distant lately," I explained, "Around me, Deaky, Brian, - everyone," I paused to give him a chance to speak, but he stayed quiet, "I'm not going to pretend that I know everything about you, but I know you well enough to see that you haven't been yourself lately. I'm worried... I want to help you, but I can't until you give me a clue to what's wrong."

His expression softened and he opened his mouth as if he was about to speak, then he stopped. He shook his head slightly, avoiding eye contact. "Nothing's wrong," he lied, stepping towards the door.

"Roger-"

"I don't want to keep the others waiting."

I panicked, "No, wait-" I backed up against the door, holding it closed with my foot. He tried to push past me, but I grabbed his arms and held him back.

He tried to pull away, "Not now, Freddie."

"Please-"

"Let go!" he tried again to shake my grasp. When I didn't budge, he finally met my eyes with a look of annoyance that quickly faded into something softer, "Brian will throw a fit if I'm not back in there soon."

"He's helping Deaky record bass - we have time," I assured him. After a pause, I gently urged, "Please talk to me, Rog." I slowly let go of the drummer and he leaned against the door, putting his hands in his pockets while his gaze fell to the ground.

The room had become so quiet that I could hear the faint sound of Deaky's bass from down the hall. I didn't know how to start the conversation without making it feel like I was drilling questions into him, so I waited for Roger to speak first. I was beginning to think he never would, when finally, "I don't feel like myself, Fred." His voice was barely above a whisper.

I was surprised by his sudden honesty, but I didn't let it show. I spoke calmly, "How so?"

"I... I don't know," he stammered, "My drumming has been shit, and I haven't even come close to writing a song that's ready to be played." He sighed heavily.

As much as I wanted to say something to make him feel better, we both knew he was only speaking the truth. Instead, I cautiously asked, "Did something happen last night?" The drummer frowned slightly. "I'm only addressing the elephant in the room, dear," I continued, " I saw the way you stormed out this morning. You can't tell me there was no reason you did that."

Roger paused, then spoke quietly, "You were right about last night - sort of. I did shag a girl I'd only just met, but the thing is..." he shifted his weight, "It sort of felt routine - like I only did it because that's what I'm used to doing."

"You didn't enjoy it?" I gently asked.

Again, he struggled to make eye contact, "No, not really. I'm confused as to why that is," he chuckled softly, but I could hear his voice starting to break, "That was my plan - get wasted, get shagged, call it a night."

Something about the last part of his response stuck with me, "Why that plan?" 

"I don't know, Fred."

"Do you want to know what I think?" I offered. He didn't object so I continued, thinking aloud, "I think you're trying to distract yourself from something you've been avoiding."

Silent, Roger looked away, his gaze focused on the ground. I had never seen the drummer cry - at least not while he was sober - and my heart broke when I realized he was on the verge of tears.

"You know you can tell me," I comforted, reaching up to give his shoulder a gentle squeeze, "Whatever it is that's on your mind, I'll try to help."

He shook his head, "I can't - it's too personal."

I tried to think of any possibilities, "Does it involve someone else?" He froze, swallowing hard. I took that as a yes. "Do I know them?"

He looked down, a tear spilling as he admitted, "...Yes."

There was a silence as I pieced together the information I had gathered. Last night Roger tried to distract himself with sex and alcohol. Someone is on his mind, and I know them. Who could possibly be bothering him? Is it someone in the band? 

Then it clicked. That night with the booze... and the kiss. He hadn't been acting the same since then. I managed to hide my own surprise as I asked the question, "Is it Brian?"