the drummer boy ❦ Roger Taylor

17

Roger and I ate rounds of buttered toast all morning. We laughed and chatted about all sorts of things, getting to know one another more. We didn't speak about families, instead focusing on ourselves. In Rogers words, 'our family doesn't define us', and it's not essential to know everything about our families in order to get to know a person. I admired that.

"So, you broke your leg falling off of a football?" Roger asked me in between chuckles.

"Yep. I wanted to prove that I could balance on it." I admitted, to which Roger huddled over, laughing loudly. "I obviously couldn't."

"You're an idiot."

"Shut up." I joked, punching him in the arm. He fake cried.

"That really hurt." He groaned, gripping his arm in pain.

"That hurt? Imagine having this!" I exclaimed whilst pointing to my throbbing nose. His jokey expression turned into a serious one.

"Seriously, though, do you want to go get it checked out?" Roger asked. I thought about it - it's only a nose, there's nothing the doctors can do.

"I'll be fine. Anyway, I need to figure out how I'm going to make it up to my mum. God, what if she doesn't let me come home?" I sighed. Roger leant back in his chair, smoking.

"If she doesn't, you stay here." He shrugged, as if it was the most casual thing to stay. I paused. He didn't mean it, right?

"Don't be silly. I can't stay here." I laughed.

"Why not?" He countered, blowing a smoke ring.

"Roger, I've known you for what, two weeks? We'll be fools."

"Let us be fools, then." He winked, getting up. "I have rehearsals soon. You can come with or stay here, it's down to you." Roger put our plates in the sink, pouring himself a glass of water.

I fiddled with my fingers, thinking about my mum.

"Would you drop me home? I need to see her." I asked in a small voice. Roger smiled sympathetically, sitting down and taking my hand.

"Of course I can. I'll come back to yours after rehearsals; if you're still fighting, I'll bring you back here, and if not, that's great."

I nodded thankfully, leaning forward and giving him a peck. He kissed me back, his hand reaching up and cupping my cheek. When we pulled away, we both smiled to each other. Luckily, he avoided my nose, although it still hurt to move my face too much.

"Go get ready."

-

"Good luck, beautiful. I'll be back in no more than five hours, ok?" Roger said as I got out of his car. I made him park down the street, so that my mum wouldn't see me get out of a mans car. There would be even more hell to pay if that was the case. I reluctantly walked away in the direction of my house, waving Roger off. The short walk was full of my emotions conflicting; I'm angry about my dad, but I'm upset about the situation. I didn't mean for it to come out how it did, but I knew that she had to know. By the time the short war was over, I found myself on my doorstep. Hesitantly, I pressed the doorbell, my heart beating through my chest. After at least thirty seconds, the door opened slightly, and I could see my mums face peeking from it.

"Hi, mum." I said quietly. The door opened further, revealing my mum looking pale and sad. Tear tracks ran down her face, and she was still in her pyjamas. I frowned. "Can I come in?"

I got no reply, but the door widened and mum stepped back to let me through.

When we both sat in the living room, you could cut the tension with a butter knife. No one said a thing, instead sulking in silence awkwardly.

"I'm sorry." I said, breaking the tension. Mum jolted, as if the sudden speech scared her. "I shouldn't have told you that, the way I did." Mum took a deep breath.

"No, you were right. We don't love each other. Well, he doesn't love me," She began, "when you left, I called him. I confronted him, and he finally admitted the truth. And he turned the whole thing on me, saying that if I wasn't so uptight and on his case constantly, then maybe his eyes wouldn't have wandered. I split it off there and then." She concluded, wiping tears from her eyes. I reached out to grab her hand comfortingly, and fortunately, she didn't pull away. We had a moment just appreciating the fact that we were talking again, even though it had only been a day. My mum and I had always been close; we barely argued. After that, mum pulled away slowly, tapping her thighs with her finger tips. "Where have you been? Tash's?"

I took a deep breath, wondering if I should tell her the truth. I don't think there should be any more lies in our relationship, so I gathered up the courage to be honest.

"I met a boy. He's really lovely. I called him up and he picked me up. I stayed there the night." I said quietly, hoping that she wouldn't kick off. Instead, she did the opposite. She began squealing and clapping.

"Julia! What's his name? How old is he? What does he do? Where does he live? Is he kind?" Mum rambled.

"His name is Roger. He's 21, and I met him at that gig Deborah and I went to a few weeks back. He's in a band, and is the kindest man I've ever met." I flustered.

"When am I meeting him?" I chuckled,

"It's early days, mum, but hopefully soon." Mum pulled me close and hugged me, squeezing me tight.

"I can't wait, Julia."

"Neither can I."

Mum sniffed deeply, pushing me away by my shoulders,

"Why on earth do you smell of cigarettes?"

-

Sorry I haven't updated in a while, been away on holiday! Don't worry, there'll be lots more drama coming up. Julia and Rogers relationship isn't going to be this easy, hah.

So, is there anything you readers would like to happen in the story in particular? I have basic outlines for the plot and each chapter but would love to incorporate any ideas that you may have?