𝙱𝚊𝚍 𝚁𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎| 𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫

XLII

I woke up, on the tour bus, my head was resting on Roger's chest, as his arm was draped around my shoulders, there was a bunch of roadies watching us in awe, letting out wolf-whistles, prompting me to roll my eyes, with a slight chuckle.

Roger had sunglasses, and a hate that was falling down, just enough to cover his eyes, he wore a simple grey T-shirt and denim jeans, with his legs opened. My legs were hurled up on the seat of the tour bus.

I could tell by his rhythmic breathing, and the soft snores that escaped past his lips, that he was asleep. We were on the London tour bus. The plane ride was boring as usual- although Roger had came up with an idea to keep us entertained for a while.

Brian and I spoke this morning. I'd apologized for kissing him. I felt awful about it. But he just laughed, and told me it was alright, and that he understood I was vulnerable and not exactly sober. He and Roger also made up, although it was slightly challenging for the drummer to admit he was sorry for punching the guitarist. But eventually he did, and the two went back to being best friends.

Roger's snoring had came to an end, and he shifted around a little, before removing his hat from his eyes, moving it back still on his head.

"Oh, hey. When did you wake? You were out cold just a second ago." Roger removed his sunglasses, to rub the tiredness out of his eyes.

"You fell asleep too. I just woke up a few minutes ago." I informed him, as he nodded along, leaning down to press his lips to mine, holding me tighter with his arm.

꧁꧂

"Are you sure that you'll be alright going in there?" Roger asked, as he pulled up his car beside mine and Ian's house.

"I'll be fine, Rog. I need to go in some point." I told him, my heart slightly racing at the thought of going in there and seeing Ian.

"Alright, if you're sure... I'll see you in a few days?" Roger asked, and I nodded, with a smile plastering my face. He leaned over to kiss me, but I pulled away, in fear that Ian mah be watching.

"Sorry..." I muttered, looking down, awkwardly. I felt his index finger tilting my chin up, forcing me to look at him.

"It's alright. I get it. I'll see you in a few days. Bye, Spence." He offered a kind smile, as he removed his fingers from underneath my chin.

"Bye, Rog." I said, getting out of the car, looking up at the window to the living room of my flat. The curtains were closed and it looked like there wasn't a light on. Maybe Ian was at work- or at this point who knows where. I got my bags out of the car, and walked into the flat, dragging the suitcases up the stairs.

"Ian?!" I called out, as I unlocked and opened the door. Silence. Maybe he wasn't here. Hopefully. I took my suitcases and bags, dragging them into the living room.

"Don't bother unpacking." I heard Ian's voice say, prompting me to flinch. I turned a light switch on, and there he was sitting, at the dinner table. His elbows were on the table, his hands clutched together, with his index finger tapping on the thin-growing mustache. There was a beer bottle on the table, along with many newspapers scattered on the table.

"Ian! You scared me! What the fuck are you doing, sitting in the dark?! And what are you talking about, "don't bother unpacking"? I live here for Christ sake!" I rolled my eyes.

"Not anymore you don't." He stated, earning a look of confusion from me, although my heart began racing in panic of what it might be.
"Do you think you'd get away with it forever? What? You thought I'd never find out? Never find out that my girlfriend's been behaving like a fucking slut, while she's in the US?" He stood up, walking over, as he screamed in my face, prompting my breath to hitch in fear.

"I-I don't know what you're on about." I tried to hide the fear in my voice, although there was hardly any use. He knew.

"Oh really? Well maybe this'll refresh your memory, my dear." He gritted through his teeth, as he grabbed my elbow, and lead me over to the table, pushing me down on the chair. He stood behind me, his hands on my shoulders, and his breath on my cheek, as he bent down close to me. He took one of his hands, and forced my head to look down at the newspaper. My eyes widened, as I recognized it all too well. It was Roger and I getting into a police car, both of us, hiding our drunken laughs.
"Now, do you fucking remember?!" He yelled in my ear, causing me to jump, and tears to form at the brim of my eyes.

"I'm sorry.." I stammered, my breath was shaky, and I felt like I was on the way to having a panic attack. I felt like I couldn't breathe- it was so difficult, but I tried to control it, and wiped the tears that were about to fall from my eyes.

"Sorry?" He chuckled, while he gripped a fistful of my hair, forcing me to stand up once again. I tried resisting him, fighting him off, but he held me still, grabbing my shoulders for me to look at him.
"You went behind my fucking back, and cheated on me with that dick, and you're sorry?!" He yelled.

"Fuck you! At least Roger actually treats me with respect! He doesn't try rush me into things, and then gets angry when I refuse! I actually mean something to him, more than just sex!" I yelled, tired of dealing with this man anymore.

"Is that what you think?" He laughed sarcastically, before continuing. "You think you mean something to him? You think you're special to him?" His expression quickly went from a sarcastic, and pitied smile, to stern and cold. "You're just his little whore!" He yelled in my face, as he grabbed ahold of my wrists.

"Well, you know what Ian? I'd rather be his whore than your girlfriend." I responded, truthfully, before banging my head against his, for him to stumble back, giving me enough time to quickly make a run for it.

"Ophelia! Get the fuck back here!" He yelled, but I had already ran out of the flat. I ran away from the house of horrors, running to the closest place, I'd feel most welcome.

I knocked on the door, harsh and quickly, desperate to just get in.

"All right! I'm coming! Jesus!" Roger yelled, as he walked towards his front door, opening it, with a pissed off expression, before his face softened, as he saw me standing there, with tears in my eyes.
"Spence..." He said softly, and I couldn't hold back anymore. I threw myself in his arms, and he held me, while I cried, hushing me and stroking my hair.
I had no where else to go, but him.