Faking It • Queen FanFiction

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 41

The car was tense. Things no longer ran smoothly like they had fifteen minutes ago in Bernie's flat. The atmosphere was forced and she didn't know how to sit. Whatever the hell had just happened definitely changed things. Where she was on the verge of hating him, but regarding him as a close friend whilst also thinking he had a strangely sexy side whilst still mentally recovering from Holden violating her, her entire mindset had shifted. She didn't hate him, but she still enjoyed giving him the attitude, although now it was more...flirtatious? Where she previously didn't want his hands anywhere near her, which perhaps she still didn't, she couldn't get the gentle brush of his lips out of her head and her neck tingled with disappointment.

Oh God, she had to spend six weeks with all of this simmering in her head. At least Holden couldn't actively bother her subconscious for a little while now, which made room for her feelings towards Roger. She missed the simpler times of twenty minutes ago, when they were only frenemies.

"You all ready?" Roger clasped the steering wheel and rolled down his window: the car was stuffy and there was no breathing space amongst the suffocating heat.

"Ready as I'll ever be," she muttered truthfully, following suit and winding down the window. Soon enough a breeze was swirling through the car and the sun shone hopefully in the distance, finally deciding it didn't want to be hidden in the clouds anymore. Despite the coolness and optimism in the air, the wind hadn't taken any of the tension away with it, so Bernie fiddled with the radio until music started to blare from the crappy car speakers. So she cranked the volume all the way up and the sound of Now I'm Here sucked the friction right out of both of them.

A smile came to Roger's face and his hand tapped on the steering wheel on the beat. "I always hated this song, it's got all of Fred's shit in it," he smiled affectionately, and concentrated on driving. Bernie turned to watch him drive, something she'd never thought of doing before. There was a focussed strength in his sapphire eyes and his lips slightly parted, undoubtedly subconsciously biting his tongue as he kept one eye on the other drivers. The wind whipped his hair and Bernie had to turn away sharply, what was happening to her? She'd just full-on checked him out and liked what she saw for the first time ever. She saw none of the flaws she usually did and the distance between the pair of them just felt too broad.

The song ended and Led Zeppelin punctuated the silence again. To this, Bernie bopped her head and mouthed the lyrics, singing the chorus quietly. But not quiet enough that Roger couldn't hear. "I've heard strangled street cats with more tunefulness." He said, cracking a smile. Not even looking at him, she smacked his bare arm and instantly regretted it as sparks shot up her own.

"Shut it, Taylor, at least I don't scream for a living!"

"Well maybe that's why you don't have a boyfriend."

Silence. How did she respond to that? The silence was getting longer for appropriation now. "Not necessarily. I just never let them hear me scream. It's only the lucky ones." Smirking victoriously, Bernie took a daring leap and could see Roger's head break away from the road in her peripheral as he stared at her with a look in his eye that she didn't quite catch, because her gaze was on the road ahead. And luckily it was, because otherwise they may have never made it to Wales.

"RED LIGHT!!" Her shriek alerted Roger and he threw his entire bodyweight into the brake pedal.

"SHIT!" The car lurched and halted sharply, throwing the passenger, driver and suitcases towards the windshield. Bernie's head nearly went through the glass as she scrambled at the small flat dashboard for something to grip onto.

"Fucking hell, Roger. I'm beginning to regret not hitching a ride with Brian and John." And, although she knew the answer, she decided to mess with him a bit, "what the devil had you so distracted?"

Safely stationary at the red traffic light, Roger tucked his hand under the collar of his shirt on the opposite shoulder. "...You." He turned to face her, hoping to lock eyes with her, but there was no such luck.

"Go."

"What?"

"Go!" A honk from another driver. "THE LIGHT IS FUCKING GREEN ROGER."

"Oh," he pressed his foot down on the clutch and accelerator and the car lurched forwards again as he messily changed gears.

"Would you like me to drive?"

"That's insulting."

"Well, I'm just saying," she threw her hands to her sides, "you're pretty shit."

"Oi! You were distracting me. Damn passengers think they own the car." Roger tutted snd sat forward in his seat, fixating extra attention on the road until they were safely out of London and on the highway.

"I do own the car, I own any room I'm in. How dare you assume otherwise." Feigning snooty offence, she crossed her arms and looked out of the window indignantly. She had no idea what had gotten into her all of a sudden, but perhaps the distance between herself and Holden was rightfully giving her her confidence back.

"I bloody know you own any room you're in, hence why I can't stop looking at you." Roger's openness stopped Bernie dead in her tracks. It seemed her own strength gave him a confidence boost too, which made her smile on the inside. No way was he about to witness her goofily smiling to herself over supposedly nothing. Her feelings had progressed faster than she could have imagined, perhaps it was all those months worth of borderline attraction coming at her from every direction.

"Sweet. But save it for the next pretty girl you feel like shagging."

"You think you're pretty?"

"Of course I do, otherwise who will?" All her life, Bernie had been her own greatest supporter. Brian had been a pretty close match, but nothing compared to how she made herself feel confident. Not in a narcissistic way, she just never had that boost from those around her growing up, which made her pledge to always make herself feel loved, even when others didn't. Which was a lot. It was tricky to maintain, but she couldn't be more proud of herself for not giving up on herself all the way from being a teenager through to adulthood, even though she nearly had a couple of days ago.

"I do. Bloody don't I," Roger bit down on his bottom lip and Bernie knew her outgoing attitude caused his mind to be somewhere else as well as on the road ahead. "There needs to be more people with your kind of attitude. The number of women I've shagged who don't like themselves is unbelievable."

"You're unbelievable. Unbelievably ridiculous. I'm surprised you even got that many women to sleep with you in the first place. I can also tell you that no woman solely likes herself." Even though Bernie tried to love herself, there was always a small barrier somewhere. The classic male outlook on the female headspace was shining through and Bernie couldn't pass up the opportunity to educate the driver. It was a long four hours from here.

"You do." He furrowed his brows confusedly, trying to fathom out a woman's thought processes. Not gunna happen, mister, Bernie thought silently to herself.

"Hahahah, funny joke, Roger. Very funny."

"Well what do you not like about yourself?"

Bernie's body went rigid and she stared out of the window. "Lovely weather today."

"Don't change the subject, Bernie."

"I said, lovely weather today," her aggressive shift in tone shut Roger up and no more words were shared until they reached the highway fifteen minutes later.

1/2/23 - happy February! where has the time gone already??