Good Old Fashioned Lover Boys

Chapter 1- Roger

I watched Brian gently place his guitar into the guitar stand in the corner of the room. His jet black curls stood out in the pale room.
Lately I just couldnt keep my eyes off of him. I had no clue what it even was about him. After all, all he ever did was boss me around and slowly explain everything to me like i was a baby.
But those warm brown eyes. And his long, thin limbs.
It was getting harder and harder to focus on my drumming when his little ass was right there.
Actually, nobody understands how hard it is being the drummer. First of all, drummers never get as much recognition as the lead singer and lead guitarist. Especially when your lead singer and lead guitarist happen to be some of, if not THE best, of anyone in their musical area. But then there's just being way in the back. The crowd cant see you. And you're behind everyone else. Like I said, there was Brian's ass. Deaky would do his little jumps and dances. And Freddie would run around doing whatever the fuck he wanted. It can be so distracting, especially when you've got to focus on counting.
Anyway, Freddie had offered to take us down to the pub for a drink or two. We all agreed and piled into his car.
Deaky sat up front with Freddie.
Meaning Brian and I were together in the back.
I instantly felt my stomach flip when his leg bumped my foot as we were climbing in.
I still couldn't understand why I felt this way. There wasn't much to like about him.
I figured he was mad at me for something stupid I'd probably done earlier in the day. He kept avoiding me and staying as far away as possible. His face would even get all red when he saw me. Of course, it was nothing to be worried about when Brian was mad. He never even yelled at anyone. Probably went on a nice walk to clear his head or some sophisticated thing that mature people did to handle their anger.
When we got to the pub, Brian sat on the far end of the bench, next to Freddie. On Freddie's left was John and on John's left was me. Completely opposite of each other.
Usually, if Brian was mad at someone, he would tell them so they could improve or whatever. It was quite strange for him to not have approached me yet.
After a while, I felt the urge to take a piss. I walked into one of the stalls and noticed what looked like Brian's shoes in the one next to me. I hadn't noticed him leave.
We ended up washing our hands around the same time. The paper towel dispensers were right next to each other. I went to one, Brian to the other.
As I reached to grab a towel, his hand collided with mine. I felt like throwing up immediately. He quickly pushed the door open and ran out of the bathroom without looking back.
I sighed and splashed some cold water on my face.
Why couldnt I stop thinking about Brian?