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"now, don't make fun of me"
the movie set looks more like an acid trip when you arrive with a bagged lunch for roger. you know he must be tired of eating catered food; in his words, you're the best cook he knows.
the boys are standing about on a theater stage adorned with light bulbs at the front and shining marquees. it almost makes you want to laugh, especially as you have to cut through the huge crowd of extras, some standing and sitting in their seats, holding home-made signs. pete is the first to see you from his vantage point. he waves and shouts to you.
"the lady of the hour," he announces.
keith matches in fashion, turning from a giggling conversation with john to repeat, "the lady of the hour! and she comes bearing gifts. goodies. foodstuffs!"
that's when roger catches your eye, his face simple and sweet in the yellow lights. his body is adorned in a glittery, extravagant outfit with beads and embroidery and shiny embellishments. how strange it is to see him like that.
"only for roger," you tell keith and step around to the side of the stage. roger holds his arms open to accept your hug.
"mmh, you brought me lunch?" he asks into the slope of your neck.
you nod. "it's a surprise. and tell me about these outfits." your words are littered with giggles. pete and john are wearing suits modeled after money. keith looks alright, for a change, and roger is certainly the main attraction.
he takes the bagged lunch from you and smiles. "we're just the actors. have you even seen elton's outfit yet?"
"oh no. it's that bad?"
"worse," john affirms.
roger places his hand on your waist, "in fact, he'll probably come out here sometime soon. we're getting ready to shoot. you should go up in the box seats with the assistants." he points above the stage to the right, where a handful of people are taking notes and readying a camera.
"okay. see you soon?"
"of course," roger tells you.
you begin to walk away, but turn with a gust of excitement. "i can't wait to see you all in action!"
he laughs at you and shoos you away to stand in front of a pinball machine. you step up the pathway leading to the box seats and greet the crew. you've met some of them before, coming in on previous days to check on roger and watch the progress of things.
from up here you have a good view, good enough to see elton john wobble onto stage. his boots are huge props and his costume makes him look like something out of a fever dream. he smiles and gestures to the boys before standing in front of his own pinball machine.
keith's the real champ here; you think back to late nights spent at bars, watching moon rack up the points.
the director makes his way to the stage as well, a short man with wispy hair, and makes some final adjustments before giving a thumbs up to someone beside you. they yell down into the crowd: action. you're surprised to see the whole thing come to life.
the band starts playing "pinball wizard," and you watch roger's face in fascination: that blank stare and open mouth. this whole concept, when pete, and then john, and then roger, and lastly keith told you about it, seemed too gargantuan. but now here you are, experiencing the scene with your arms resting on the railing.
after the performance, you rush down to roger amid the commotion.
"you were great," you tell him and take his hands in yours. "don't know how i feel about that expression you had, but it was great."
"oh, it's all part of the show." he shrugs it off.
keith jumps down from the drum riser and catches your attention. "you mean like this?" he mimes roger's acting with a steady, wide-eyed stare and parted lips. he makes himself laugh. "tommy looks like a fish."
roger throws his hands up. "now, don't make fun of me."
"we're not, rog," you assure him. you give him your calming smile and take his grip in yours again. "do you want me to stick around until the end of filming today?"
he takes you from the boys, leaning close in secrecy. "no, wait for me back at home. it'll make seeing you all the more special."
you press your cheek to his, warm and flushed, and reply: "maybe i can set up something special for us. a movie, dinner, the bed..."
his chuckle is like sunshine. you love making roger happy. "perhaps all three? but wait till i get there."
he parts from you and holds you by the shoulders. you each give one last look at each other and you have to suppress a laugh for a kiss on your lips.
"i'll wait. always." you share a pinkie promise with entwined fingers and a little shake of your wrist, to make it true. roger gives you another peck, another toothy grin before you wave to him and leave. as you get in the car and fiddle with the steering wheel, you already miss him.
