Roommates (Roger Taylor/Queen)

31. What's Your Poison?

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
'WHAT'S YOUR POISON?'

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WHEN WE RETURNED HOME, A STILL AMBIENCE EMANATED THROUGHOUT THE HOUSE. As soon as we got in, Roger and I went our separate ways; him in the living room mulling over a cigarette and me leaning against the kitchen counter staring blankly out the window. I think we both just needed space, I'd dropped a bomb on poor Roger tonight and no doubt he needed a moment to let it sink in. Nevertheless I wasn't going to let that affect our friendship in any way so without a second thought I regained my composure and made my way through to the living room, before strolling past the pondering drummer and making a B-line for the drinks cabinet.

'What's your poison?' I turned and asked Roger, holding two tumblers in my hand.

He looked up at me with that vacant look he always seemed to possess, 'Southern Comfort?'

'Good because it's all we have,' I reached into the cabinet and produced the bottle of liqueur. I placed it on the coffee table along with the tumblers, 'It's yours if I'm not mistaken. Sorry about that.'

'It's fine,' he chuckled, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray next to him, 'What's mine is yours, and all that.'

I cracked open the bottle cap whilst smiling in amusement, 'You say that as if we were a couple.'

'Well we've been living together that long now we might as well be.' he said with a cheeky smile.

'You wish.' I smiled back as I poured our drinks.

Once I'd finished, I flopped down on the couch next to the blonde, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. But I couldn't ignore him looking at me out the corner of my eye and was quick to ask, 'What?'

'You don't drink Southern Comfort, Heidi. You hate it.' he said matter-of-factly.

I rolled my eyes, 'I have one drink and suddenly I'm an alcoholic? God, I can't do anything in this house without being judged.'

The drummer knew I was joking, but he didn't laugh with me, 'Seriously though, you are alright, aren't you? I mean, I know that's a stupid question given everything that's happened today but...'

'Roger,' I stopped him rambling on, 'I'm fine. But I'd rather not talk about it anymore, if that's okay. Anything else, just...not that.'

'Right, of course,' he agreed awkwardly, 'Sorry.'

'Don't worry about it,' I smiled warmly. Taking a sip of my drink and momentarily scrunching up my face in disgust at the taste, I sat up in my seat, 'So go on, tell me what's been happening?'

He looked at me quizzically, 'What do you mean?'

'Like what's going on in your life at the moment? I feel bad, I've been so caught up in myself I'd completely forgotten about you. How's everything with the band, haven't fallen out yet I guess?'

Roger chuckled, 'No, we're still going strong. It's just the same old same old really; endless practicing, the odd gig here and there. We've recorded a couple of demos as well, y'know, some possible material for our first album.'

'First album?' I looked at him wide-eyed.

He seemed surprised, 'Did I not mention that before?'