You're My Best Friend • Roger Taylor

•17•

"Humpy Bong?" Brian chirped in disbelief as he stepped forward. I nod in response, knowing just how stupid I had just sounded, talking in incoherent words, how weird the name was, it almost made me want to laugh.

"I can't believe it," Roger states, shaking his head. He paced the room, trying to hold himself together before he hits at one of his drums - he sits on the drum stand as he thinks things through, trying to calm himself down, lighting a cigarette up in the process.

I flinched at his anger, knowing that I was the reason for it. He saw the way that I had reacted to his sudden movement and frowned.

"Is - is that why he kissed you? Like it was some sort of bribery?" He asks softly, his voice growing bitter at the second question, "Why did you let him?"

I shook my head, becoming angry at myself. I had no clue why I had let him, I suppose at the time it was due to the extent of how much I had liked him. At this moment, I realised how stupid I had been that night, "I- I don't know, I don't know why I did it."

"Because you like him, right?" He says, in an unsure tone, wanting me to confirm and say yet another something to him.

I nodded, only because I couldn't do anything else and Roger only sighed again while Brian stayed to the side, "Christ sakes, Belle? We're best friends, you're supposed to talk to me about things like this."

"I know and I'm sorry, I'm really sorry," I repeat, frowning. God, how I wanted to stand up for myself, to yell at him, because in all honesty, what Tim had done, I'm sure Roger could've done the same with any other girl, but I couldn't say that, I couldn't do that to him, not when he'd suddenly been brought back to square one after being a part of this band for years now, "I just, I know how much music means to you -,"

"Is he at his lecture do you think?" Brian suddenly asks, his voice spoke fast.

Roger shrugged, "I don't know where the knob is," he mutters matter of factly, sitting himself down on the raised platform which held his drum kit.

"I'm just going to go and check," Brian replies after he hums in agreement at the use of the word 'knob'. He practically charges out of the room, shutting the door behind him, leaving me and Roger alone.

I keep my mouth shut in a large frown and my elbows dig into my knees as I rest my face within my palms, "I'm the worst best friend," I mumble against my skin.

I heard footsteps, presumably Roger's come closer. I lift my head out of my palms and look up at him as he stands in front of me, he gestures for me to move over, "Budge up a little lovie," he mutters before sitting himself onto the small wooden plank that I had been sitting on, after I move myself up a bit until  half of me was hanging off of the edge and I was fully reliant on my right leg to keep me sitting, "You're the best, best friend. This is all on Tim."

I huff quietly in response, "I feel so ashamed at myself, I swear to you, on my life, I was going to say something. It slipped my mind."

"It's okay," he replied, his voice calm and collective as he reassuringly hung his arm around my shoulder.

"It's not, Roger. I should've told you the moment he told me. This is your dream, I may have just fucked it up for you and Brian too," I explain as I use my hand gestures to emphasise just how panicked I was while Roger's hand kept stroking at my back gently.