A/N:I hope this does your request some justice and hope you see your BF soon <3
–––––
You blink awake. This is the third time you’ve woken up tonight. You sigh. Sitting up, you glance at the clock. It reads three in the morning, and you groan, flopping back down onto the mattress. You’ve been having the worst sleeps ever since Roger left for tour a couple months ago. It’s been hard having to sleeping in an empty bed. You’re not used to not having Roger snoring next to you. Not used to his side of the bed being cold.
Youmiss him terribly.
Fluffing your pillow and rearranging the blanket, you try to fall back asleep. But after several minutes of looking at that one brown dot on the ceiling, you huff and get out of bed. You wrap the throw blanket around your body before making your way to the kitchen. In the mood for something comforting, you grab the carton of milk from the fridge and some cocoa powder. Growing up, you would always sneak into the kitchen and make hot chocolate whenever you couldn’t go to sleep––a habit you kept throughout your years at uni as well. After mixing and heating the ingredients in a pot on the stove, you pour the drink into a mug and take a big sip. You sigh when you feel the chocolate warm your belly and head back to the room, drink still in hand.
Pulling off your sleep shirt, you rummage through Roger’s clothing drawers. Finding your favorite shirt of his––an old, ratty, way too big Rolling Stones shirt––you throw it over your head. It smells like cigarettes and cologne and something distinctly Roger,and you smile. The book you began reading a week ago sits on the desk, and so you grab it. Maybe it’ll help you fall asleep.
–––––
Roger slowly opens the door to your shared flat, placing his bags off to the side––he’ll deal with those in the morning. After all the traveling, right now, he just wants to see his beautiful girlfriend and go to sleep. Passing through the kitchen, he sees the pot growing cold on the stove and a spattering of cocoa powder on the counter, and smiles to himself. When he reaches the threshold to your bedroom, he stops and leans against the doorframe, drinking in the scene before him. You’re in one of his shirts, sleeping on his side of the bed and hugging his pillow tightly to your chest, a book forgotten on the sheets. He can hear your soft breathing.
His heart absolutely melts at the sight, and he’s struck with a wave of pure adoration and warmth. Smiling to himself, he pads into the room while shedding his jacket and pants. Left in his briefs, he turns off the lamp, and carefully lifts up the comforter to crawl into bed with you (he now has to lie on your side, but he doesn’t mind one bit).
You roll over in your sleep, mumbling something incoherent and reaching out your arms. But you feel something solid and warm, and you shoot awake, slapping your hands wildly in front of you. His hands catch your wrists.
“Shhh, sorry, it’s just me love, just me,” he says, trying to hold in a laugh. You stop, blinking rapidly to adjust for the darkness of the room. Your eyes widen when you see Roger lying in front of you, holding your hands in his.
“Rog?” you ask, voice heavy with sleep. You’re not sure if you’re actually awake or not.
“Hi darling,” he whispers.
You throw yourself in his arms and pepper his face with kisses. He laughs, voice raspy and rough.
“I thought you were coming back on Friday!”
“Was dying to see my best girl,” he says. He looks at you still lying on his side of the bed.
“Missed me that much?” He asks, tilting his chin down to your––his––shirt and the discarded pillow, and you can hearthe smirk on his face.
“Well, you did leave your poor, poor girlfriend all alone in this ridiculously big flat for two months,” you retort. He chuckles at that.
“What a terrible boyfriend I am,” he begins, tightening his grip on your waist, pulling you closer, “How can I ever make it up to you?” he whispers into your hair. Your chest warms, and your mouth pulls into a smile. You tilt your chin up, puckering your lips, and he laughs softly.
Gently grasping your jaw, he gives you a kiss, long and sweet, something that makes your toes curl.
“I love you, and I missed you so much,” he rasps, pressing his forehead to yours. You kiss him again.
“I love you too Rog.”
And you close your eyes, wrapped in Roger’s arms, legs tangled with his, listening to his heartbeat.
Series Summary: It’s the story about the unexpected love between you and Roger Taylor that had lasted through thick and thin, through the challenges and darkness as you both find a way to prove that love is unbreakable…
In this part:The night in the club goes on with you spending your time with Roger. You really want to avoid your feelings to him but it seems like it does not go away—same goes to Roger too.
Warnings: language, lots of fluff, angst, a lot of alcohol consumings, mild smut(not that graphic)
Word Count: 7.7k+ words
Note:more grammar and spelling errors. more time jumps and fast-forwarded scenes. prepare for a sappy roger/cute reader in this part
I’m just here to say that there will be A LOT of slow updates here in my blog bc my fucking teachers gave us MORE schoolworks to do while in quarantine.
Series Summary: It’s the story about the unexpected love between you and Roger Taylor that had lasted through thick and thin, through the challenges and darkness as you both find a way to prove that love is unbreakable…
In this part:The night in the club goes on with you spending your time with Roger. You really want to avoid your feelings to him but it seems like it does not go away—same goes to Roger too.
Warnings: language, lots of fluff, angst, a lot of alcohol consumings, mild smut(not that graphic)
Word Count: 7.7k+ words
Note:more grammar and spelling errors. more time jumps and fast-forwarded scenes. prepare for a sappy roger/cute reader in this part
“Finally, you’re flirting with me.” The drummer chuckles.
You blushed in his words as you let out a chuckle too, “I don’t think I’m flirting with you Roger.” You denied his words.
“What a shame because I wish you had been.”
Your heart skipped a beat when he said that to you, with his ocean eyes staring right at you—Roger fucking Taylor, a famous drummer, a lady-magnet and a good-looking bloke enjoys that you’re flirting with him, without even noticing that you’re flirting. The way he said that was almost made you want to kiss him, but you’re only a woman that is intoxicated with different types of drinks and alcohol is already running in your system.
Roger in the other hand waits for your reaction, and your reaction?
You just laughed. Again. Like a fucking maniac.
“I–I..uh…” You soon gulped and put your glass down on the counter, “Roger, I have a question…” You dodged the awkward situation as he hums, letting you tell him your question.
You saw his body moved closer to you and you feel something weird in your body, all because of just his aura.
“I know I saw you back there with two good-looking girls in your place and…I don’t want to sound rude here but, are you just here talking to me—flirting maybe just to make me be like those girls? Do you want me under your spell or a one night stand thing because Roger…I am not that kind of a woman. I may be dressed like this, but that’s not what I’m planning to do tonight. Or—”
“—I’m not that kind of a man Y/N. I’m not a man that meets up with a girl, sleep with them and just forget all about it in the morning. I really am not, but I respect on what you just said because I guess that’s just the only thing you may think of when the name Roger Taylor pops into your head.” He responds, sarcasm filled his voice after he said that.
You didn’t know this turned out to be…personal.
And you think you just broke Roger Taylor’s heart right there.
You absolutely regret on asking him that question in the first place, but your thoughts is that you’re just making sure about everything because you really don’t want to ruin a night like this in your life. You don’t want to give all of you to a man you just met.
“I–I didn’t mean to put it that way, I–I’m just making sure.” You stammered as you apologize to him.
Roger just nods his head at you, knowing that he’s not listening—just your words going through his ear and out in the other ear.
Roger thought you’re different.
And all that he’s been thinking about is to go back to those two girls in their booth.
“It’s nice meeting you Y/N.” He finally dismissed himself from you—to clearly avoid any drama as you watch him walk away like nothing had happened. You let out a huge breath when he just ditched you here, but you did get to the point that you’re already offending him earlier, so you think it’s your fault that he felt bad about himself. You called on the bartender again as you ordered a shot. You never drink too much in your whole life and you think this is the night wherein you’ll get shitfaced—like Eleanor said to you earlier.
Speaking of Eleanor, you haven’t found her since the time you saw her with that guy. Kelsey too had disappeared in the crowd and Cleo, she’s still with John—clearly flirting with him back there.
The bartender came back with your drink as you stare at the alcohol right in front of you, “I guess it’s just you and me again.” You muttered and drank it all in one sip, then you ordered a second one again, a third one, a fourth one until you didn’t count how many shots you’ve ordered.
When you’re drinking all of those shots you’ve ordered, Roger is walking towards the booth to find the girls already gone, so he didn’t get back there, instead he went back to the bar but he’s in a far away distance from you, not seeing on what you’re actually doing in your life right now. He didn’t notice you pushing your way to the dancing people and started dancing with them too. You managed to find Kelsey with two men groping her while they dance as you also dance with them. One guy had his hands around your hips, your back pressed on his chest—dangerously close to him.
Roger wasn’t intoxicated, he doesn’t feel drunk after all those shots since it’s been two hours since those round of shots occurred and the alcohol just faded out. He just had to leave the bar when he suddenly found someone entered the club that he recognizes, they are with their group of friends, wearing those skin tight dresses and revealing clothes to attract men.
Reese.
After that breakup and confession that she’s been cheating on him for 5 months, she also planned to go here, with a couple of friends. Just like Roger had also planned after his mini tantrum onstage earlier. And he’s still not ready to face her after the words he said to her, but he also wants to face her and say the other things he wants to say.
The words that is better left unsaid.
When her group is closely approaching to where Roger is, he suddenly decided to turn away and never face her, like ever again as he left the bar, walking back to their booth—but only to bump someone on his way there, he looked at the person to suddenly see you, looking completely wasted and your hair is sticking on your face because of your sweat that built up because of those body heat in the dancefloor.
“Roger—” You stopped and suddenly felt the bile slowly rising up to your throat. You cover your mouth as you pushed the drummer away, stumbling towards the restrooms. Roger, who’s concerned if anything would happen to you, followed you.
Then he saw you going for the men’s restroom, that’s why he grabbed your hips and guide you to the ladies, “How many drinks have you consumed?.” Roger whispered to you, you just ignored him and entered the restroom to let it all out.
Roger waited for you to finish up, his back leaning on the wall across the ladies’ restroom.
After a couple of minutes, you are still inside the restrooms, sitting on the floor of one of the cubicles inside. You flushed the toilet two times and regret every ounce of alcohol you’ve consumed tonight, thinking that it’s already in the middle of the night and you have work by Monday. You slowly stood up from the floor, trying to stand up properly this time. You left the cubicle and look at yourself in the mirror, the makeup you’ve put on is now fading away, so you just put on your strawberry lip gloss on and fix your hair. You stayed inside the restroom for a moment—not knowing that Roger is waiting for you outside.
Roger, who’s looking at his watch a couple of times—not caring that it’s already 1 in the morning, is still waiting for you to come out. He’s already sober and not planning on drinking more again.
“Roger?.”
Roger turn to his left to see her again, wearing a flowy kimono top, his eyes grew soft as he remember the words he said to her in that phone call.
“Reese…” He sighs, eyes softening.
“So you’re drinking again? I thought you changed already—”
“—change? After that phone call earlier? After you fucking broke my heart through the phone? You’re completely unbelievable Reese.” Roger disputes, facing away from her.
Reese regrets that she followed him back here since she saw him—his hands holding you earlier. That left her curious about her own ex-boyfriend.
“Roger, always remember that breaking up with you doesn’t mean that you will just go back to do the habits that I hate so much. I just want you stay the way you were when we got together.” Reese tries to calm the drummer down as he shrugs her off.
“Why are you always pinning everything to me and my mistakes? Well look who fucking cheated in the relationship.” Roger defends himself.
“Roger, I—”
“You don’t know how you broke me so much when you said you found somebody else and it—” Roger trailed off, “—it made me think of the things that aren’t good enough for you to love me.”
Reese never see him so vulnerable. The one that he loves so much turns out to be the one who hurts him so much.
“Rog—”
The conversation stopped when you stepped outside the restroom, alcohol still running in your veins but manage to take care of yourself.
“Roger, are you–are you waiting on me?.” You asked the drummer. He didn’t say anything, he just approaches you, took your hand and left the hallway—leaving Reese all alone and dumbfounded.
Roger leads you back to their booth wherein they are still talking to each other and meeting more people, then watch him walk away from the booth.
You took your fur coat that is laying on the couch beside Cleo, “Where’s Eleanor? She needs to drive us home, it’s so late.” You slap her forearm to get her attention to you.
“Oh, I think Eleanor already left with that guy earlier.” Cleo slurred and your eyes widened.
You cursed under your breath, “Then who will drive us back? It’s already 1 in the morning.” You argued.
“Still early.” Cleo replied to you and continue chatting with John and the others. You gave up and put on the fur coat and took your bag.
“Then I’m going alone.” You stomp your way towards the exit to see multiple people still coming inside this club. You look around the street to see no cabs—just their own fucking cars. You think of something of how you can go home.
Hitchhike can be dangerous. Waiting for some cabs will never give you hope. Walking is the only way, but it’ll take you hours to get back to your flat.
“Walking it is.” You groaned, started to take off your heels. You suddenly stopped when the people in line became loud and see Roger walking out of the club with a man who protects him from the raging fans. You watch them making their way to a car parked by the street. Seeing him already hopping inside the car.
And you know just what to do.
“Roger! Roger it’s Y/N!.” You shout at the far distance and start to walk towards them, but only to be blocked by the man with him. “Wait—”
“Roger’s off limits.” He said to you and you scoffed.
“Excuse me please, he knows me! Roger, hey!.” You wave your hand at the closed window. And then for a couple of seconds of you getting his attention, the windows rolled down with Roger looking right at you.
“What are you doing Y/N? Why aren’t you with your friends inside?.” Roger asked. You glared at the man, giving him the proof that Roger Taylor really knows you as he loosen his grip on you—letting you stand close to the car. Close to him.
“I–I need a ride home, my friends are already screwed up and shitfaced with alcohol or whatever it is. My friend who has a ride ditched us so, I really need to get home. I’m just by Waterloo Road, you can drop me by the park.” You pleaded, watching him think of his answer.
“Alright, get in. We’ll drive you home.” Roger said and a smile appeared on your lips as he opened the door, letting you in the car. Sighing deeply as you finally will go home. Safe and sound in your home.
The car drives away from the street as you lay your head on the window, watching the streets and it’s lights. This night out is truly one of the tiring and stressful—but it’s damn memorable. Roger is also silent and looking out on the window by his side too.
You look over to him, feeling like he’s not a celebrity but instead just a normal person. Tired, stressed and damaged—all because of the consecutive days of performing and touring from all over the globe. Hands calloused, muscles tight and uncomfortable for the drumming. You can’t imagine how much pain he’s going through—but probably you know every all of that is worth it to him.
And it left you wondering—who was the girl he’s talking to when you stepped out of the restrooms?
“Roger?.” You speak in the silence as he look at you, those tired eyes looking right at you.
“Hm?.” He hums.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you. Who was the girl you’ve been talking to when I finished…you know…throwing up in the restroom.” You asked him and you heard him sigh deeply, then you felt him being uncomfortable in that question, “Uh…forget about it, you don’t need to answer it—”
“—she’s my ex-girlfriend and uh…we just broke up through the phone earlier…before I performed in front of thousands.” Roger cuts you off and answered your question.
You gape at him and let his words play along in your head again. That girl, was his ex that broke up with him through the phone.
“I mean…that’s an impractical thing to do—breaking up with somebody through the phone.” You commented.
“Psh—I know right. She found someone else and get in a secret relationship with that man behind my back for the last 5 months.” Roger replied.
“That’s fucking terrible.” You reacted, then start to wonder again, “But why are you still talking to her earlier? Aren’t you feeling a bit off with her with what happened?.” You asked.
“I am a bit off of her but…the break-up is just so fresh and…you know, she’s my first love. We shared years together, she moved in with me too but it turns out it’s just a one big sham.” Roger answered.
You didn’t asked anything else to him anymore as you felt that he finally let it out. The burden, the pain, the heartbreak.
You took an intake of breath before you suddenly lay your hand on top of his. He reacted on your touch as he looked back at you, seeing his surprised face. Instead of what you thought he would do, his hand that’s under your’s slides off and took yours too, letting your fingers fully intertwined with his own. You can’t stop staring at your hands together and just gave him a small smile, letting it be.
It’s nice. The silence. And hands tied together.
…
The car finally reached the park. The hand holding also turned into something different—it’s now your head laying on his shoulder when you took a small nap while on the road earlier. You woke up just before the car would arrive and now you’re finally here, only a few steps away from your flat. Before leaving the car, you faced Roger.
“First of all, you’re the celebrity I’ve ever met in person…” You chuckled.
“Oh really?.” Roger raises his brows at you as you nod your head.
“Well, I nearly met Mick Jagger but there’s just a lot of girls before wants to meet him and me and my friends gave up on it,” You said, “And um, Roger?.”
“Yeah?.”
“Do you…want to come inside? Give you food and maybe painkillers for the hangover…as a way of my thank you for the help and the ride home.” You shyly asked the drummer.
Roger was astonished on your offer, but the time breaks everything off. He really wants to come with you.
“I love to but it’s so late Y/N, and I am on tour. I’m a busy man, perhaps, I can walk you there. I can’t stand seeing you walk alone in this street.” Roger said as he is now taking off his seatbelt.
“Roger, you don’t have to—”
“—but I want to.” Roger cuts you off.
You know you can’t argue with him, “Okay.” You gave him a small smile and took your seatbelts off too. You both left the car then started walking together towards your flat that is only meters away from the park where the car stopped.
You have your arms crossed in front of your chest, warming them in your fur coat. Roger has his hands stuffed in his pockets.
There’s a distance between you two while walking there. Silence. Only hearing the barking dogs nearby—and crickets too.
“You know what,” Roger suddenly spoke first amidst the silence, “I actually called this night the worst night of my life because our show earlier is bullshit, my long-term girlfriend broke up with me then I met her again and I broke my drumset—almost hitting Freddie onstage. But—”
You furrowed your brows when he stopped talking, “—but?.”
“I don’t know…” He trails off.
You finally stopped in front of your flat, Roger looking around the place and then right back at you.
“Well, are you sure you don’t want painkillers?.” You asked again.
Roger chuckles, “I’m fine Y/N, and you should be the one who needs to drink the painkillers. I saw what alcohol did to you.” He smirks.
“Ugh, I’m horrible when I’m drunk.” You replied, regretting that you consumed a lot of drinks tonight.
“So don’t drink a lot next time. You seriously need a full-time nanny to take care of you when you’re drunk.” Roger again teases you.
“Oh fuck off.” You laughed, “So this is goodbye, Roger Taylor.”
“Don’t say goodbye to me like you’ll never going to see me again. We’ll meet again soon, I promise that. You're–you’re something to me Y/N.” Roger said. You can literally feel your heart thumping loudly in your chest.
“Well then it’s not goodbye Roger. I’ll see you soon.” You softly smiled at him before taking steps closer to him and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. The drummer was frozen shock when you showed that affectionate side of yours as he just watch you lean away and step inside your flat—making sure to wave goodbye before closing the door behind you.
You really are something to him.
…
NOVEMBER 27, 1974 — OLYMPEN: LUND, SWEDEN
Ever since that night, Roger wasn’t over you.
You’re in his mind all the time. Even though he met several girls on tour—slept with the others, but his mind was still glued to that moment you plant that kiss on his cheek. He was never been so sappy his whole life ever since him and Reese are sti together. Now those feelings he felt towards Reese before—he felt that again when he’s with you.
And he loved that. Every bit of that.
And now that they’ve left the UK again, Roger knows that it’s going to be a long time that he’ll meet you back there. His body is focused on drumming and performing their music in front of the people who adore them, but his mind was clearly all about you. Not with the groupies who always comes with them on tour and tries to entertain the drummer.
“Earth to Roger Taylor!.”
Roger snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Brian’s voice echoed through this empty venue that’ll soon be filled with loud and excited people that loved their music. They all heard most of the people in Sweden today are loving their works and Freddie—also the other boys don’t want their performance a load of bollocks again. They want it to be perfect.
“Sorry—just thinking of somethin’.” Roger muttered and gripped his drumsticks again as he steps on the bass—playing the queue.
But Brian suddenly interfere, interrupting the sound check, “It’s so weird that you are so suddenly quiet and always thinking things. What’s gotten into you lately after that night in the club back in London? What is uh, Cleo’s friend—”
“—It’s Y/N.” Roger corrects him.
“Oh yeah, Y/N, that’s her name.” Brian said. Roger has his brows furrowed in confusion at the guitarist right now.
“And what about her?.” Roger asked him.
Brian stood on the drum risers as he stared at him for a few good seconds—like he’s reading his mind through staring in his eyes, “You’re in love with her.” He smirks.
Deacy lets out a snorted laugh and Freddie was shocked. Had his mouth agape.
“W–what? No! I–I am not in love with her—”
“—okay cut off the teases and let’s just finish this sound check. Get off the drum risers Brian.” Freddie stopped Brian’s tease as Roger glared at the guitarist, who’s clearly having fun bugging Roger—a clever liar.
“Yeah, get off the bloody risers and play your part. Come on let’s start over.” Roger said then played the tune of the music again.
Freddie sang the lyrics.
Brian and John joins in again with their electric and bass guitar.
Roger perfectly played his part—not zoning out anymore.
By the time the soundcheck ended, they all got inside the dressing room. There’s still two hours before the show and to spend the time—Freddie sets up the scrabble that he always brought on tour so that he’ll play with the others.
Of course, Freddie always wins.
Brian and Roger is always pissed off. John was just amused on their reactions while playing the game and Freddie beating the shit out of them.
“Brian! You promised we will have that rematch.” Freddie teases Brian as he sighs, soon sitting down with him—picking his letters.
Instead of Brian’s usual frowning face in seeing his letters, he’s wearing a smirk—feeling that he might win this one.
Roger didn’t joined the game. He found himself his own distraction-the blonde groupie that’s been following the band since day 1 of the tour. He found himself a cigarette, now sitting on a chair where the girl is sitting behind his chair with her arms wrapped around his shoulder, her head resting on his neck.
He’s just thinking about you earlier and now he have himself wrapped around the arms of this girl.
He really don’t know what to do with his love-life anymore after that break-up. Tabloids have already known the break-up where it is shown in every celebrity page of a magazine or newspaper. It’s always been Roger and Reese’s face on that page, flashing to every reader that they got into separate ways.
He also saw Reese pictures with her new boyfriend. Hand in hand while walking around London.
Roger was still jealous. He still have that heartbreak inside of him.
“Want to have fun before you guys go onstage?.” The blonde groupie—not sure if her name was Corinna or Karen but close enough, whispered in the drummer’s ear.
Roger didn’t said anything, he just stood up from his chair, holding the groupie’s hand and led her inside the bathroom—locking it afterwards to prevent disturbance. He cups her face then kissed her hard, also pushing her back until her back was pinned on the tilted wall of the bathroom. He felt her hands reached down his crotch, soon groped his bulge while he’s making out with her. Teeth clashing together in that heated kiss.
She soon slowly got down on her knees, facing his crotch as she unbuttoned his jeans and pulled his fly down and finally pulled his jeans down, wrapping her hands around him—giving it a few pumps.
“You like that?.” She moans out her words, her hand still doing all the work.
Roger had his eyes closed—but all that is in his mind is you.
And that’s where he lost it.
“—I’m sorry…I'm–I’m suddenly not in the mood.” Roger mutters as he stops the girl, putting on his jeans again and looking at himself in the mirror. Clearly asking himself why did he just thought of you while this chick will almost give him a blow job.
“W–what? Roger?—” She stammered but he was now out of the door, walking back inside the dressing room where the boys are already getting ready.
Roger showed them a restrained smile, “How’s the game?.” He asked Brian as he reaches out to John’s cigarette box, lighting up the cigarette resting between his lips.
“For the first time in history, I had beaten the shit out of Freddie in scrabble.” Brian laughed at the lead singer—Freddie still giving him an annoyed look.
“Not that he won over Freddie tonight, he also beaten Freddie’s highscore.” John said. Brian was beyond proud of himself.
“What’s the high score now?.” Roger asked.
“One—fucking—sixty-eight hundred points in just a single word.” Brian boasts with that wide smile. Freddie is still annoyed that someone finally beats him in the game.
“What’s the word again?.” John asks the guitarist.
“Lacquers. With a Q on the triple, all seven letters, triple word.” Brian answered the bassist.
“Enough with the bragging, we got a show in 30 minutes. Let’s all get ourselves ready and Roger…” Freddie stood up from his chair and start to look for his stage clothes.
“Yeah?.” Roger replied.
“…your fly is undone.” Freddie smirks at the drummer then left the room.
“Fuck.” Roger groaned and zip himself up.
…
DECEMBER 8, 1974 — LONDON, ENGLAND
“Thank you.” You thanked the vendor as she handed you the bag full of the clementine that you bought.
Christmas will be three weeks from now. People have been in and out of the markets to buy some Christmas gifts, and some are buying foods for the holiday—just like you. Avoiding the Christmas rush soon.
Your parents cancelled their visit to your place since they have this Christmas and New Year’s party with the other neighborhood back home, completely leaving you all alone in the holidays. They will just visit just after the New Year’s Day.
No parents in the holidays this year. So your plan this holidays is to eat your favorite dishes and get drunk while dancing to Elton John.
That sounds perfect.
You walk around the marketplace, looking and buying for more foods to cook and a wine to drink for Christmas. Then something catches your eyes, it’s the newspaper where you saw the huge Queen plastered on the first page. You approached the booth where the newspapers are and took it, reading the headline that it’s Queen selling out more venues around the world.
The new rock royalties dominating the world—yes, you heard them! It’s Queen!
The photograph was Freddie singing out in the crowd, Brian on his left playing his guitar, John on his right playing the bass and on the drum risers is Roger who have his arms up while holding the drumsticks.
A small smile appeared on your lips, remembering your small time with the drummer that one late drunken night.
And then your eyes trained over the side of the paper, reading that it’s about Roger along with a paparazzi picture of him and a beautiful lady trailing behind him as they leave the band’s after party in Hamburg. He’s holding her hand—guiding her out of the paparazzis.
Then you just imagined yourself being with him like that wherein cameras are flashing around. Being a couple, hands intertwined and both wearing fur coats.
You sighed and just put the newspaper back on it’s shelf and carry on walking around. That night was three weeks ago—but felt like it’s just yesterday.
You returned to your place, putting the bags filled with what you’ll cook for Christmas on the small dining table in the kitchen. You took the phone and decided to call on Cleo.
“Hello?.” Cleo answered on the second ring.
“Can you come over? I need someone to share the wine with.” You replied, fingers looping around the phone cord.
“Nobody’s stopping me for a free wine. Be there in 5.” Cleo chuckles in the other line and hang up.
While waiting for Cleo, you took the wine that you just bought together with two glasses. You also played some music. The soft tune of the song filled the room.
“Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band. Pretty eyed, pirate smile, you’ll marry a music man…” You sang along while you open the wine and poured it on each glasses.
Just in time for the doorbell to ring.
You open the door to see Cleo before you-inviting her in. She take her jacket off and look around your place. Your tiny flat that you’ve been living for almost three years now.
“Free wine and Elton John playing,” Cleo said and looked back at you, “You’re going through something aren’t you?.”
You sighed, looking back on the newspaper where the picture of Roger and that girl with him then suddenly went all the way back when he driven you home. And your cheek kiss.
“It’s nothing, it’s just all about the thing I’ve said to you about Roger that one time.” You said, now sitting on the couch with her while drinking the wine.
“I still can’t believe you kissed Roger Taylor’s cheek. Many girls are trying so damn hard to be on your place.” Cleo smirks.
“It’s hard to forget him because he promised me that night won’t be our last night and soon to meet him again.” You replied.
Cleo stopped drinking her wine, “Wait, you didn’t told me that part though.” She said.
“Oh, I didn’t?.” You asked. Cleo nods her head to you. “Then now you know. Roger promised he’ll see me again and I can’t believe I’m holding on to that even though it’s been three weeks since that night and there are already pictures of him with a girl.”
“Roger Taylor is a rockstar and rockstars meet a lot of women. He can’t avoid a little distraction while on the road, especially for those groupies.” Cleo said.
And that left you thinking how Roger was doing while on the road together with those groupies.
…
DECEMBER 13, 1974 — PALAU DELS ESPORTS: BARCELONA, SPAIN
Roger arrived late in the venue with a hangover because last night’s happenings. When the time they landed in Barcelona, Freddie already planned on throwing a party for the last day of European tour. So, he rented a whole pub for them to invite all the people they know.
The management team. Some lucky fans. Roadies. Groupies.
A lot of alcohol was consumed by everyone in the room. A lot of people also dancing together—skin to skin, a lot of touches and sexual tensions.
They’re all making the best out of it. It’s the last show of the European tour, then everyone will be on their way home again to celebrate the holidays with friends and families.
Roger spent his time last night with a lot of alcohol and dancing. He soon found himself a girl to spend his night with. That’s why he woke up late with a naked girl on the right side of his bed in his hotel room.
And that led him here arriving late in the venue where their last European leg show will happen. He was soon greeted by the others where the roadies are setting up the instruments for the soundcheck. Roger heard Brian playing the intro of Now I’m Here while Freddie is singing the song without the microphone. John was sitting on the stage while playing the bass.
“Thank god he’s here.” Freddie exhales as he smirks at him, “Rough night?.”
Roger took his sunglasses off as he looked at Freddie, “Well it is your fault you threw that party in that club.” He said, blaming him.
“You’re welcome.” Freddie said in sarcasm before turning his heel away from him and towards the stage again.
Roger chuckled and made his way towards the drum risers, playing his part even though he have this massive headache. Brian was also hangover and heard the wrong chords throughout the song.
And the song suddenly have that slow tempo unlike the original tempo of it.
Well, throwing that party would be one hell of a problem today.
Roger was getting pissed—hence the headache.
Freddie also heard the flaw.
“Brian! You’re slowing down, we can’t slow down!.” Roger already argues. Completely stopping playing the drums.
Freddie and John looked at each other, but Freddie tried to break the tight tension.
“Alright, break off—let’s have take two.” Freddie laughs, trying to lift up the mood.
“I’m trying to slow it a little down—” Brian said, now facing the drummer.
“Well, it doesn’t need slowing down. It's—god—it’s creeping at the moment!.” Roger disagrees.
“Alright, try—” Freddie was cut off, again.
“—God, it was so slow! And it’s getting even slower. You always try to play this like I’ve never—”
“Come on, take two!.” Freddie shouts, trying to silenced the hot-headed drummer.
Roger closed his eyes as he massaged his temples, trying to regain his composure, “Alright then, I’ll follow you!.” Roger said then look away from Brian.
Brian soon mocks him by making crying noises, but Roger didn’t hear that.
“Done?,” Freddie stare at the both of them as he finally received their silence, “Alright then, let’s have take two.”
…
“Oi! They’re cheating!.” Harold shouts as he pointed at Sheila’s team while they are arranging the plastic cups pyramid on the table. He saw one of their teams still arranged the cups even though they already passed on to the other station. Completely breaking the rule of following the timer of arranging the pyramid.
It’s the Six Stations—a popular team building game in this accounting firm.
A Christmas party is happening right now and you’re just standing by the wall, watching them have fun and constantly cheat on the games. They don’t care either. As long as they are having fun.
All what matters is that Fauna—your boss offers delicious champagne every Christmas party.
You saw Sheila laughing off her ass as she teases off Harold in being a killjoy about telling that they cheated. Like you just said, they don’t care if anyone cheated. They’re just here to have fun and receive gifts.
You also have a gift for the annual Kris Kringle gift exchange. You had picked Lorraine on the bowl last week and you just bought her a scarf since it’s only suitable for your budget. But the scarf is one of the beautiful scarf you’ve seen in the market—Lorraine is lucky.
You saw Sheila approaching you while still recovering from her huge laughs in playing the game, “God, Harold is such a dick.” She laughs off.
“Why do you always have to cheat? That’s why no one really even likes you in this department.” You replied to her as you finished off your champagne.
“Yep, no one likes me,” She sighs but soon smirked at you, “But not you Y/N.” She chuckles.
“Oh fuck off Sheila.” You laugh, rolling your eyes at her.
“I’ve been one of your oldest friends since college. We took the same course, had the same classes since the end of college and even worked on the same accounting firm.” Sheila smirks as you finally gave up, showing her a smile on your face.
Sheila Priest. One of your truest friend, but sometimes a pain in the ass.
“Wipe that smirk off your face now and let’s join the others. I heard they are already doing the Kris Kringle.” You said as you put your arm around her shoulder while walking towards the large conference room of the firm.
Everyone is there, having fun and dancing around. Then you always have to find him talking to someone in the crowd.
Damien Scott.
He’s also one of your college friends—but only met him in your last year and you didn’t know he will also work here to be an accountant too. He mentioned to you before that he didn’t want to be an accountant even though he’ll be graduating the accountancy course. All that he wants to become is a music producer. He wants to be behind the procedure of great music from great artists.
You really didn’t expect he would turn his dream down to something like this. Just his plain old decision.
You both soon looked at each other as he shoots you a smile. You never talked to him that much, only some simple conversations will rise while taking a break or having coffee. Nothing much had happened.
“Alright people, gather around is we will finally start the Kris Kringle! I hope no one ever bought someone a risqué gift here.” Fauna teases. You all laugh around, pointing at any suspects who would probably buy some sex toys.
“That’s clearly one of my planned gifts though,” Sheila laughs beside you, “And I picked Gerald.” She snorts.
“What are you going to give him? A dildo for sure? That one that vibrates.” You elbowed Sheila as she’s trying to stop her laughs.
“Oh god, I regret getting him a shirt. That dildo would be the best thing ever.” Sheila said as she catches her breath. “Well, who’s yours?.”
“Lorraine.” You replied.
“Ugh, she’s been a huge problem in getting gifts since she can afford anything.” Sheila commented, now looking over Lorraine who’s talking to Damien.
No she’s not just talking, she’s fucking flirting.
“She can afford anything, she can get anything.” You said while your eyes are glued to the both of them.
Sheila noticed your stare, then a smirk appeared on her lips.
“Don’t tell me you still have a crush on Damien?—”
“—I don’t.” You quickly replied and just silently sit there.
The Kris Kringle finally starts. Fauna will pick on the gifts that’s on the table in front. Those gifts were labelled to the person who will receive it but the Secret Santa won’t reveal itself until the receiver will open the gift and look for the person’s name inside. Fauna picked the first gift and read who’s the receiver.
“Come in front now Hilda!.” Fauna said, watching Hilda stood up from her seat with a huge smile on her face.
Hilda receives her gift, opening it in front to see who’s her Secret Santa. Then she squeals in happiness, “Jimmy!.” She claps her hand, pointing at him and thanking him.
The gift giving goes on, Damien received his gift from Amanda and Sheila already received a gift and it’s surprisingly from Lorraine. She got her a designer bag which sent Sheila to cloud nine and kept asking her if Lorraine’s serious about the gift. Of course, she’s serious. Your self-esteem and confidence lowered for your gift to her—hoping she would like it.
“Let me have Lorraine here in front!.” Fauna again announced a name and that probably froze you in your seat.
You watch her made her way towards Fauna in front and gave her the gift, that turquoise colored gift bag that you used came from Eleanor that she also used for your gift in Christmas last year, Lorraine already have it in her hands and excitedly opened it.
“God I hope she likes it.” You whispered to yourself.
“I love it!,” Lorraine reacts as she pulls out the scarf you’ve bought, then came on your name inside. “Y/N, Y/N’s my secret Santa.” She smiles.
She walked up to you with the scarf already around her neck that completely suits her outfit, “This scarf is the same scarf that my dad gave to me before he passed away when I was a little girl. My mom, which is a monster, threw away that–that priceless scarf. And then now you’re here, giving me this scarf again gives me life Y/N. So, thank you so much.” Lorraine tears up as she tries to wipe away the tears so that it won’t ruin her makeup.
Your heart flutters when you heard her story as you suddenly pull her in a warm hug, “You’re welcome Lorraine.” You smiled while rubbing her back for comfort.
“Fuck, I bloody cried.” Sheila said and look over her wiping off those small tears of her’s too. You let out a quiet chuckle and Lorraine finally pulls away from your embrace.
The moment was interrupted when you suddenly heard your name from Fauna. All eyes are on you when you are walking up front to receive your gift. A smile crept up your face while looking at the gift and finally open it up, revealing a book inside.
You pull it out and it’s the book that you’ve been reading back in college—since you always go to the library after finishing a class.
Gustave Falubert. Madame Bovary.
You look for the name inside the bag but it’s not there, but when you turn over the page of the book—there it reveals a small letter inside.
You remember it was a line from the book itself.
It was the fault of destiny!
You look at the bottom to see your secret Santa.
Damien.
“Damien,” You muttered as you find him in his seat to see him already looking at you, “Damien’s my secret Santa.” You smiled.
You also smiled at Fauna before walking back to your seat with Sheila, Lorraine already got back to her own seat beside Damien. The brooding brunette man still has his eyes on you—deciding if he would talk to you or not.
“Madame Bovary. I remember that book you always read back in college when we visit the library. I think you already read that book a million times now—”
“Well, it’s only been 7 times that I read this book over and over.” You corrected her. Sheila shrugs.
“Still feels like a million times to me. I can’t even stand reading Romeo and Juliet before and I didn’t even finished it!.” Sheila said as you laughed at her, reminiscing the time when she gave up reading Romeo and Juliet because of the deep English words that’s out of her vocabulary.
You and Sheila goes on talking about your college life until the Kris Kringle is done. Everyone’s got their own gifts and finally wrapped up the party since it’s already 9PM. You can always catch Damien’s look on you while you’re arranging and cleaning the conference room. So you decided to make the first move.
You walk up to him and saw you coming towards him too, “Damien, hey uh…I’m just here to thank you for the gift you’ve got me. Madame Bovary is…close to my heart. I’m glad that um…I finally own a copy of it.” You showed him a smile, feeling like it’s an awkward one.
“You’re welcome Y/N. You know the thing is, I know that book is very important to you.” His deep Irish accent again fills your ears and what he said caught you off guard.
“W–what? Does it mean…” You try to remember your first year in college, where you still didn’t even know him, “…are you the student librarian before?.”
Damien broke off a smile, “Yes, yes I am. I remember that book is always the one I have to write down in your library card.” He chuckles.
“God, I’m sorry. It must’ve been a tough time for you always writing down Madame Bovary in my card,” You laughed as he laugh along too, “So uh, again, thank you Damien. It really mean so much to me.”
“Anything for you Y/N.”
The conversation ended there.
Your heels turn away from him again, walking away as you approach Sheila who’s waiting for you in the main entrance of the building.
“Aren’t you be heading home?.” You asked her.
“Sleepover at yours? It’s been a year since I slept in your flat again.” Sheila asked with that pleading eyes again.
“Fine. You can stay at mine’s.” You said and Sheila throw her arms around you while walking down the block—already excited and planning on hanging out in your place until midnight.
…
Doorbell.
The doorbell was ringing—it’s already 10AM.
You and Sheila are still enjoying your sleep. Her legs are resting on top of your hips as you kick her legs out from you.
“Sheilaaaaa, can you get the door for me please?.” You slurred in your sleep, saying that with your eyes closed.
Sheila groans but you still slap her arm to wake her up.
“Sheila.” You groaned and turn to your other side, pulling the covers off her.
Sheila opens her eyes and glared at you before leaving the bed, still sleepy and tired. She pushed the stray hairs away from her face as she reach out for the knob, opening the front door.
Your friend was shocked to what she’s just looking at.
“Y/N!.” Sheila shouted from the front door.
You heard it as you slowly open your eyes, but never leave the bed. Maybe the whole neighborhood also heard Sheila’s scream.
“Y/N! Roger fucking Taylor is outside your door!.” Sheila screams again.
And that made you jolt up from your bed.
“What?!.”
___________________________ FINALLY I FINISHED THIS PART! It’s been days since I’ve been working this part though—it’s kinda tough.
Anyways, DAISY RIDLEY as Sheila Priest
And NIALL HORAN as Damien Scott (ok guys i had to. I HAD TO!)
