I still love you | Maylor fanfiction

37

Roger's P.O.V.

"-oh, and then, the main rhythm would come. It would start by the piano, the melody, and then the drums would join," we heard and energetic chatter from the kitchen as I and Brian were coming down the stairs. I immediately recognized the voice of the singer, and honestly, it was a relief to hear him so happy. The whole previous day, he was in a really bad mood, and made very clear he was still pissed of by angry silence- yeah, he really can make his silence angry. I exchanged a surprised look with my lover behind me, just before stepping into the room.

"Good morning," we greeted the two other band mates in the kitchen.
"Hi," Deaky replied, smiling, from his spot by the counter.
"Hey my lovelies," Fred exclaimed. "I had an idea for a song. I'm just explaining it to Deaks here. It's gonna be big."
"You're not in such a bad mood as I would expect. What happened?" I frowned, grasping a cup of coffee from the counter, and siting by the table.
"Me and Deaks had great sex yesterday night. That can improve your mood very much," Fred replied, sassy as always.
I nearly choked on my coffee, as I did not expect this kind of answer at all. Well I should have. It still is Freddie and I should know by now that any kind of answer is possible from him.
I saw John behind the singer's back, making tea, freezing in place when he heard what he said, eyes widening and cheeks burning red.
"No you didn't," I heard an extremely calm response out of the blue from Brian, before I could even calm myself down a bit. I shot a shocked look at him, he replied just by a smirk, and remained calm.
"How do you know darling," Fred was challenging the poodle man, laying his chin on his hands on elbows and watching him with a grin.
"We didn't hear you."
"I can also be quiet."
"Could you two stop? It's not even true," Deaky spoke up, trying to end this way too uncomfortable conversation.
"Yeah, I agree with John here," I put the cup on the table.
"Alright," Fred shrugged his shoulders. "Anyways, to remind you, we're moving in the afternoon again. Not that far. Just another city."
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Let's hope it's gonna go fine," Brian sighed and took a sip from his tea.

I closed my eyes for a bit, and did my best to stop a groan which was escaping my lips. The image of another gig was messing with my insides already now.
None of us talked about the missing feeling in our gig last night. We all just hoped it will turn out alright tonight.

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Again.
Again. Again. Again. Again. Again.
Again it was here. I think I was going mad from it. Twisting my body on the bathroom floor, groaning, crying, ripping my hair out.
I guess I secretly hoped I could do it. I had this naive idea, that I will be able to get out of it. That I will be able to do it. That everything is going to be fine. What a fool I've been.
Now, I wasn't torturing myself because of not having alcohol. I could go and get some just now. I was breaking down because of the despair. Just by now I realized there was nothing I could do. Nothing, except getting drunk every time we had a show, as a fucking drunk. I was becoming an alcoholic. And there was no other chance for me.
I should have listened to Brian. He's the clever one for fucks sake. I should have stopped with it when he said so. Now I've missed my chance.

Brian's P.O.V.

I stood next to the door of the bathroom in the backstage, my ear pressed against the wood as I tried to hear what's going on in there. I knew Roger was in there, I saw him rushing in. Plus, I knew he would eventually head somewhere where he could be alone, and I knew the reason. I could picture what was going on there, and that exactly was stressing me out.

I didn't hear a thing. There was absolute silence. I wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. With a sigh, I leaned my back against the wall, my head falling back. Oh my poor sweet Roggie. What did you do, that life had to be so unfair to you?