XXIII

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C H A P T E R T W E N T Y T H R E E

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olivia's point of view


It had only been two weeks and I'd had enough. Life wasn't the same without Roger, John, Brian or Fred here.

The girls were great, but secretly, we all felt the same. We all wanted them back instead of going out every Friday and Saturday night, drowning our sorrows in alcohol and by scolding other creepy men trying to get ahold of us.

I understood that they would be very busy, but I thought I would get at least one call every night. At least. But, I also understood that the tour took priority and the fact that they were travelling almost half the time didn't help anything either.

Work was shit as well. I was just about ready to hand in my resignation letter and walk my dumbass out of that cafe, but every time I thought about it I thought of Roger and how he'd probably want somewhere to come home to, and I didn't blame him.

I was being called in a ridiculous hours though, and it was pissing me off. Because our cafe was open for all three meals, I would sometimes get called in for two shifts a day, one at lunch, a small break, then one for dinner.

I had never experienced a morning shift though, and that consisted of me waking up at 6 in the morning, and I wasn't a morning person.

Every morning I woke up I cursed Paul Prenter for not letting us come on tour for the first two months. It gave me the shits and ultimately put me in a shit mood every time I had a shift.

Lately though, I have been having very mild mood swings and I have been feeling very ill. Now, I immediately thought I was, you know, pregnant, but I started feeling these symptoms only three days after Roger left and we had gotten a little intimate on that day, and there was no way you'd be able to tell that early, so I just continued on my daily routine.

3 weeks later

Today I woke up incredibly hungover and I came to the slow realisation that I was late for my morning shift at the cafe, so I sprinted around the flat like a maniac trying to make myself look presentable while shoving breakfast down my throat in order to get the next bus.

I tried to refrain on driving Roger's car because I didn't want to damage that van in anyway possible, because if I did, I don't think I'd be something so special in Roger's life anymore.

As I was running out the door, the phone rang. For god's sake.

"Hello? This better be important." I said rather impatiently.

"Hi babyyyy." Roger slurred.

"Hi darlin', are you alright?" I asked, immediately sitting down. Work could wait.

"Y-yeah, I just... I think I'm high."

"Y-your what?"

"Olivia! He's high even though you told him not to try any drugs!" John yelled in the background.

"Shut up deaky boy."

"Roger, what did I tell yo- you know what. Babe, I miss you and I'm super sad and sleep deprived as I'm sure you are but I'm late for work. Put John on please. I love you, call me later."

"I love you! Deaky boy!"

"Hey O."

"What have they done?"

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