𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 | roger taylor

XXVI

July 12, 1973

The phone's cord was a coiling snake around my arm, winding tighter and tighter as I spoke and fidgeted with the thing. The day was warm, and the heat had me indoors underneath a spinning ceiling fan, praying for the sweat on my skin to dry. Roger was off somewhere with Brian, which left me alone at the flat. I was on the line with Freddie, flopped on the bed with my feet in the air. We'd been speaking for close to an hour now.

"I can't believe tomorrow is it. Don't get me wrong, I'm not expecting any miracles. But it's still farther than I'd ever dreamed for us," the singer told me, breathing a gentle sigh into the phone. "It's finally happening. Fucking finally."

"It's huge, Fred. I've been saving up to buy as many copies of it as I can."

He chuckled. "I agree. Which is why an album release celebration is in order. Only a small one, I swear."

Small, sure. Nothing Freddie ever did was small. "Uh huh."

"I expect you to be there. Bring Roger, if you want..." he trailed off, a certain humor to his voice.

"Oh, I don't know. I'll think about bringing him. It's kind of a damper to have to babysit him all night," I said jokingly, although there was hints of truth to my words. Roger had a tendency to get sloppy drunk at Freddie's parties especially. I had to be there to stop him from hurting or embarrassing himself, or worse.

"He's the life of the party, next to me!"

"It's not always the best thing," I said quietly, licking my bottom lip in thought. "You know, being his girlfriend."

"He's obsessed with you, darling. I'm sure if you mentioned something to him he'd try to fix it."

"Oh, I don't know about obsessed."

"Are you kidding?" Freddie laughed. "He'd jump in front of a train if you asked nicely."

I smiled to myself. "Now you're just being stupid."

"Ah, well-" Just then I heard the clanging of metal keys, and then the door to our flat opened. "Sounds like he's arrived. I'll see you two later then?"

"Mm hmm."

Roger's light footsteps traveled down the hall and he poked his shaggy head inside, grinning at me. "Who's that?" he asked, gesturing to the phone.

"It's Freddie."

"Ah, who else would it be?"

I giggled, pressing the phone to my ear as I said one final goodbye. "I'll see you, Fred."

With that, we hung up, and my boyfriend took that as an opportunity to join me on the bed. He flopped down beside me, his full body weight making the mattress bounce. "What did you do with Brian today?" I asked as he shifted closer, throwing an arm around my shoulders.

"Well." His voice was soft and fuzzy now. "We went thrifting, found some pieces we could wear at shows that'd work quite nicely. Grabbed lunch, you know. Typical day out."

"Hmm."

"What about you?"

"I got some cleaning done, much needed," I told him, poking him firmly in the stomach. "Then talked with Freddie for a while. We have a party to go to later, if you're up for it."

Roger gave me a funny look. "Now why would I not be up for my own album release party?"

So that settled it. For the next couple hours, the two of us rifled through his messy closet and my piles of clothing to find outfits that were suitable. One thing Roger and I had in common was our interest in fashion and the finer things. He absolutely loved when we wore matching outfits, and we strived to do so whenever possible, even if there weren't any paparazzi following us just yet.