im too lazy to proofread it and other shit bye))
We passed upon the stair
Roger nodded, grabbing the small bag from the man he has never met before. The guy walked away with most of his salary from this month. Not like it mattered to him though. He sighed, looking inside of it before turning around and walking in the opposite direction before putting the bag inside of his coat pocket. Roger knew he would get caught someday, but it was the early seventies, what did everyone expect.
He headed home, quickly going inside. Ignoring whatever was happening on the news. Roger headed to his room, throwing his coat off and quickly going into the pocket of the coat. Then he reached into the small black bag. He pulled out the needle full of a clear liquid which was cold, but you could still feel that the liquid was heated up. He sat on his bed, and put the needle to his skin, deeper and deeper until he felt it poke through. Roger let out a sigh, before injecting the drug into his bloodstream.
We spoke of was and when
A rush of pleasure ran through him. He looked around, spooked, everything was blurry. His head hurt badly as if he just got hit in the head multiple times. It still felt as if Roger was dreaming, nothing felt real. Roger got up and walked around for a moment before reaching the bathroom. The room was cold and felt depressing, but he still stood there, turning on the light and looking into the mirror.
Although I wasn't there
He said I was his friend
Which came as a surprise
He looked at himself. He wanted to talk to himself, to make him stop. This has happened to him before, years ago in the sixties before he had more fame with the new band he was in. Of course, he got out of the habit. It was a new version of him, but now his old self was coming back.
But, it felt nice.
Roger knew that gaining popularity wasn't the best thing, especially for rock bands. That usually wasn't good, since rock stars usually didn't have peaceful deaths. It always involved something gruesome, like drugs. He was only twenty-six, and people have died at the age of twenty-seven more and more recently, gaining his anxiety to spike up. But, it was only a rumor.
I spoke into his eyes
I thought you died alone
A long long time ago
A pound happened in his head, causing him to let out a small groan. Roger knew he just messed himself up since he hasn't done drugs in what, around five years? He stopped when the band got a new frontman, Freddie Mercury. With the new lead singer, he knew the band would be going somewhere, and they did. The new album they recorded gained popularity quickly. Which didn't surprise Roger.
He coughed. All of the sudden his mouth was dry, which was annoying him. Roger didn't remember this happening last time. Another cough happened, causing him to sit down on the bathroom floor now.
Oh no, not me
It hurt. His stomach was in pain now, and his body was warm. He could feel his face get warm. He could tell that he would throw up soon, something that always happened to him when he did heroin. Roger moved closer the toilet for when he had to throw up. He really messed himself up since his body usually couldn't handle things like this. Even when he gets vaccines, it makes his body ache for days.
We never lost control
A few minutes pass, nothing happened. Roger slowly got up, his body was shaking. The man went into his room, grabbed his coat and quickly headed out the door. He needed to get out of here.
Roger left his house, walking to Freddie's house which was only a few minutes away. But, his friend was probably not going to be at his house. Roger would still check though, maybe there was a chance.
here is where i gave up))
He finally arrived and saw that the lights were on. Freddie was here. Roger stumbled up the steps and quickly knocked on the door. He knocked loud and he didn't stop. Freddie needed to answer before he collapsed.
You're face to face
With the man who sold the world
The door finally answered. Roger just stared at Freddie, who honestly looked like he was annoyed that his friend was here.
"Roger? Why are you here?"
The younger boy quietly responded, "I did a drug. I don't know what to do and it just hurts."
He sounded as if he was a child. But he wasn't, but it did hurt. What was he gonna say? Roger had to explain it in the best way he could, but he didn't.
"Roger, did you really?" Freddie let out a sigh before he continued, "Come in then."
Roger nodded and walked in. It was a warm and comforting place that he has been in multiple times before. The place felt less depressing than Roger's own place. This house even had cats. A lot of them, actually.
He followed Freddie through the house as he brought him to the kitchen to get a drink of water. Neither of them usually did drugs, unless you counted cigarettes, which was something everyone did, really.
im lowkey too lazy to finish this story and i hate it bye))
