Don't Lose Your Head (Roger Taylor)

4. Blonde Fragility

A/N —
Thank you all so much for 1K reads already! It was nice coming back to see people had been reading this. Votes and feedback are always appreciated! 💜

Roger

Thursday was not my day.

June was not my month.

1985 was certainly not shaping up to be my fucking year.

I haven't had sex in weeks. I'm going grey, I'm bored out of my fucking mind, and my own son won't even look at me long enough to confirm that yes, it is his father trying to chat to him. I'm trying my absolute best to get back in Felix's good graces, but it's like he doesn't even bloody have them anymore. How can a five year old not have good books?

"Alright Felix. Here we are... do want me to walk you in?"

Silence.

"Felix?"

I whirled around quickly when I heard the sound of the back door being flung open. My son shook his head vigorously as if I couldn't have suggested anything more embarrassing. A sullen expression stretched across his face and I felt a twinge of guilt twist in my chest. This sulking was new, and I didn't know how to deal with it because all of my old tactics for winning Felix back around seemed to have been tossed out the window. It would seem that my last tour had been the last straw for him and my absences.

"Alright, I suppose you're too grown up for me to be walking you right up to the door, now." I chuckled, and reached out to ruffle Felix's fair hair but he ducked away from me.

"Hope you've fun—" the door slammed shut "—mate."

I watched as Felix fled the car, and made his way over to a group of lads, sporting the same white and red soccer kit as the rest of them. Dominique told me on Sunday that he was going to a football camp for the week, and that he would need a lift in the mornings. I saw this as the perfect opportunity to get back in his good books, but it was Thursday and I had barely gotten any more than a few grunts from the boy. Felix was only a child, and I didn't think this level of teenage stroppiness was even possible at this age. It was easier before, when I could come back from tour or from the studio, and he would be delighted to spend time with me. Now, it was like he took my last bout of absence personally.

I squinted, returning my gaze to Felix and his friends. Those lads were all standing with their parents. Those lads could hack their father's presence. Fuck this, Felix could at least say goodbye to me, he could at least have some manners. Just as I twisted the key out of the ignition, I managed to catch sight of Felix laughing with his mates, and decided the last thing he needed right now was for me to show up. If I stormed over there, having a strop because my son was justifiably annoyed with me, it would only make things worse.

So instead I sat and waited until Felix and the other kids disappeared into the clubhouse, before I took off with a huff. I immediately rolled down the window as I sped off home— hoping that some rush of air would go right through into my brain and cut whatever wire it was that was making me feel so sorry for myself lately, right in two.

Dominique was on her way out of the house when I was on my way in. She looked lovely in a white summery dress, smattered in dark florals, with one of my leather jackets draped loosely around her shoulders. I playfully wolf-whistled as she swept past me, and once I realised she was about to keep on walking I quickly grabbed a hold of her.

"Where are you off to?" I murmured, and swept my hand over her waist, "You look good."

"I'm just going out for lunch," Dominique offered me a bland smile, "I will be a few hours."