15th February 1978
It wasn't my intention to spend as much time with Roger as I did, but like almost everything between me and him, it was practically fate it worked that way.
We both had busy schedules, so considering he was waiting for his next tour date to be confirmed, and I was going on a day to day basis of my next job, it was considered quite impressive how often we were in one another's company.
Nothing changed between us either. He was just a friend, and no one knew about me and him. Sometimes it surprised me how we'd managed to avoid the press as well as we did, but it stayed secret from the public's eyes.
The two of us were undeniably wrapped up in one another, completely smitten by the other but not wanting to admit it. That was the only thing dangerous about being supposed friends, is that when one thought they were catching something for the other they tried to push it away. And that's what was happening.
I woke up in his bed that morning, his jumper from the night before covering my torso. We'd spent the night at his place, drinking what he had in as he rambled on about how much he hated going to tour, and I complained about the meeting I had with Mel the following afternoon.
He's surprisingly already escaped from the other side of the bed, explaining why I'd woken up quite literally sprawled across the covers. I got up and stretched out dramatically, taking a glance around the room and through the balcony doors, not managing to find Roger's frame.
I slowly padded down the hall, soon walking down the stairs when I heard Rogers voice talking to someone I assumed was over the phone. He was in the kitchen, just in a pair of black joggers, leaving his torso perfectly exposed as the phone sat pressed against his ear.
"I'll talk to you later, see you soon." He mumbled, smiling at me before quickly pressing the phone back down. I took a seat at the kitchen table, lighting a cigarette as he took his mug in his hands and sat opposite me.
"Who was that ?"
"Old friend. Wants to catch up before we go on out next tour. Still don't know when exactly we leave. They've started selling tickets for around April time." He shrugged, taking a drag from my cigarette once I'd passed it to him. He seemed tense, embarrassed slightly, and certainly not appreciative that I'd heard a glimpse of his phone call. I didn't know why, though I did find out much later on, but he didn't seem to like me knowing certain things. Things I thought were quite normal and simple too.
"Did you sleep alright ?"
"Yeah yeah yeah, your bed is literally so comfy compare to mine... I think it's those pillows or something." I smiled, earning a small chuckle from him as he sipped his drink, which I assumed was the usual cup of coffee he had in the mornings.
"I love the way you say pillows with your accent." He laughed, smirking slightly as I shook my head. "It's a good thing by the way..."
"Have you got a thing for girls with accents ? Seems like you always go for them. Not a fan of British girls or something ?" He shrugged, laughing slightly as I took another drag from the stick between my fingers.
"Coincidence I think. That's all." Roger paused. "What times that meeting you've got then ?"
"12." I glanced at the clock, and then back at him as his features grew into a slight playfulness. "You've got me for another hour."
"Well... it'll only take twenty minutes for you to get ready, five for you to have a cigarette at some point, and ten for me to drive you there... and if I'm right, that leaves twenty five minutes of spare time." He smirked as I rolled my eyes, his eyes telling me exactly what he had planned as my cheeks glowed red.
"Seems like you've got a good enough idea of what to do in that spare moment."
"Well... I might be a little worn out after last night. You weren't kidding about that little Valentine's Day treat... I mean Christ."
-
Soon enough I was besides him in the passenger seat, a position I often found myself in, occasionally glancing over at him as he drove me to my managers office.
"So, when do you reckon I'll be seeing you next ?" Roger took his eyes off the road only for a split second to look at me as I shrugged slightly. "What are you doing tomorrow night ?"
"Tomorrow I'm doing an interview for Star during the day, but by the time six o'clock rolls round I should be yours." I smiled, blushing only lightly as a relief seemed to hit his body. He pulled up to the curb, still wearing the same smirk as I grabbed by bag.
"I'll be at yours by half past then. I'm gonna be busy sorting through the shit to go on tour over the next couple weeks." I hadn't entirely expected that certain string of words to be told, but regardless they were. I opened the car door, leaning in slightly to face him as his eyes and lips paired with a simple guilt before we shared only a brief yet gentle kiss.
"Tell me all about it tomorrow." I stepped out the car, smiling uneasily as he nodded and gave me only a small wave goodbye. I turned on my heel and quickly padded up the stairs outside the building, looking back to see his car was already gone.
After a long enough ride in the lift, I swung the door open to Mel's office to see her eyes stuck to a paper with a somewhat familiar face on the cover. Her red hair sat in a bun high on her head, tied up messily as her glasses edged towards the end of her nose.
It stayed silent as I took a seat in the chair, and the air still sat empty for a short while after that. There was an occasional rustle, caused my her fingers tracing each page and then flicking it over, but no words between us yet.
"Your dads been calling. He's desperate to get hold of you." Her eyes lifted from the black and white print, but they couldn't meet mine as they nervously traced the floors. The mention of my dads name made my body stiffen, my mind eager to block away the memories of him.
"I know. I really don't wanna talk to him Mel. I moved here to block him away."
"I know you did. But you're gonna have to tell him that- I've tried. Says I'm being one of those stupid British girls." She complained, her painted red lips edging towards a frown as I nodded guiltily. No matter how many miles away I was, it seemed I was still having to repair the damages my dad was still making.
"Sorry. I'll talk to him. It's just-"
"Yeah I know love. But... in other news, your photo shoot for seventeen gets published tomorrow. You're the cover. And obviously you've got the interview with star tomorrow yeah ?" Mel smiled slightly, finally closing the paper and setting it down on the desk diving the two of us as I nodded.
"Yep. Any other news ?" I asked nervously, now wanting to leave only being here for only a few moments.
"Yeah... you've been asked to work on another film. Main star is Natalia Crown, you know her right ?" She paused as I nodded again. "Look, I know you really don't want to do it but in the nicest way this is what your career needs. Just a boost. A tiny film role can't hurt."
"I'll think about it."
-
I didn't entirely plan to end up sat at Charlie's that night, but when I got home for a fairly unsuccessful meeting knowing I needed to call my father, a drink seemed suitable. But before long one drink turned into two, and then three, and then four, which is how I widened up slumped over a bar stool practically drowning in my own self pity.
Last time that had happened, it was the night I met Roger. But there was no blonde drummer with a tempting smirk in the dimly lit bar to try and flirt with me tonight. There was a guy sat next to the duke box, couldn't of been much older than me, with a certainly colourful cocktail in hand, and the same two old guys that Charlie had in here every other night.
It was really just me, the drink in my hand, and my thoughts. A combination my future self wouldn't be appreciative of when she woke up and realised she had an interview to do. But it didn't stay that way for long, because the man beside the jukebox decided their was a conversation needed between the two of us.
He had a messy head of auburn hair, slightly down turned green eyes that wore a layer of black on each lash line, and a comforting smile on his lips. He was thin, not hugely, but his height made him seem incredibly scrawny. The thick green knitted jumper he wore paired well with his jeans, ones that looked easily like something I would be dressed in for a shoot.
"Sorry, I was just sat over there and I couldn't help but notice how amazing your hair is... I mean, it's gorgeous." He stated, my eyebrows slightly raised as our eyes met.
Now it could've been because he was just as drunk as I was, or because the lights were so faint you could barely make out a persons face, but it wasn't until his eyes locked with mine that he realised who I was. He gasped almost immediately, his cheeks flushing red as I chuckled.
"Wow... I really didn't expect to meet you in here. I buy every magazine you're in, girls come into my place asking for hair like yours ! It's amazing to meet you." He laughed, immediately taking my hand in his too shake it. I smiled, slightly taken back as he laughed in shock.
"Thank you. Are you a hairdresser then ?" I asked, gesturing to the seat besides me before he almost jumped into it nodding.
"Yeah. Was never that good at anything at school, but it seems I'm alright at giving people hair cuts. I'm Julian by the way, Julian West. Most people just call me Jules."
"Well, Jules, why the fuck are you in Charlie's ? Surely you've got better things to do ?" I laughed, sipping my drink as his eyes took a small glance down when he shook his head.
"Boy troubles. I'm sure you'd get it. Bloody twat cheated on me with some chick from work." I gasped, throwing my hands over my mouth. Julian turned a shy red, sipping his drink nervously as my drunken self tried her hardest to come up with a good enough response.
"Fuck them. They're useless. Twats. Men aren't worth it, don't get yourself too stressed or worked up." He smiled again, letting out a relived sigh, still partly struggling to believe he was having a conversation with me.
"You're really nice. You're not stuck up or anything. Not trying to act like you're too good to know me."
"No of course not. I like to pretend I'm a normal member of society to be honest. Besides, you're actually a nice guy, as far as men go you're not that bad." I sipped my drink again, laughing when his eyes widened and he held his hand against his chest as if to steady his heart beat.
"This is crazy. Mental. I bet if you weren't pissed you would tell me to piss off." He laughed, almost in shock as I shook my head frantically from each side.
"No, I would just wouldn't be so confident."
"I always thought when people were famous, they instantly got that confidence, that kind of bold personality you know ? Like Bowie never shied away, or Freddie Mercury- I mean I've seen him on stage and he sings like he owns the place !" Julian exclaimed, my eyes shooting open as my lips met the edge of my glass.
If Julian happened to be some other lad, and if the two of us happened to be sober, I doubt I would've told him what I did, but I wasn't thinking entirely straight at the time.
"I know him. Freddie. Are you a fan of Queen ?" His eyes almost popped out of his head, jaw tumbling against the floor as Charlie caught the two of us chatting and shook his head. It wasn't because he was disapproving of the two of us being friends, of course he wasn't, it's because he found our drunken states far too amusing.
"Yes ! I love their guitarist, Brian May. He's why I started playing. I saw them at the Rainbow in 74, it was one of the best nights of my life." Julian sat with his head rested in the palm of his hand, the other occasionally lifting his drink whilst he rambled on about whatever he did.
He was definitely a nice guy, one I would never soberly befriend, but that's because he was clearly somehow more outgoing than me. He didn't really care about what people thought, that was crystal clear from the first sentence he said to me, and that earned him a definite admiration from me.
"You play guitar ?"
"Yeah. I have done for about four years now. I'm not that good, it's just a hobby really." I nodded, a small tug at my lips that somehow told him I was quite impressed. I took a cigarette from my bag, sticking it between my lips before offering him one.
"Social smoker. My biggest flaw. Would never near one when I'm sober." He took one of the sticks from my packet, leaning into the flame my lighter sparked before the two of us both released an amusing cloud of grey.
"Ouch. Now that is a flaw. Don't worry, mine's apparently the fact I don't like take out. Think I was supposed to be eating Chinese food... it was awful." I cried, throwing my arms around dramatically as the cigarette sat perched between my two fingers, Julian laughing loudly.
"There's this place not too far from my flat, guy called Ralph. It's awful !"
"That's where we went ! God it was vile. I'll have to tell Roger that. He clearly has faulty tastebuds or something like that." I hadn't become so loose and open around someone so unfamiliar to me in a very long time, but wether it was the comforting smile he wore, one perfectly matching his personality and appearance, or the vodka dancing through my system, I felt like I'd known Julian for years. But I'd barely known him a few minutes.
"You don't mean Roger Taylor do you ?"
That's when I paused, and for the first time since he'd sat besides me I hesitated about my next sentence. I had no issue mentioning anything else, but the topic involving me and Roger was one slightly more delicate than it should've been.
It was like a mirror. Once you smashed it, carelessly let the pieces fall and break, it would stay that way. It would stay broken, even if you glued it back together, the cracks would always be there. And that's what would happen if people found out I'd been the model sleeping with Roger. Everything between me and him would simply break, including the worlds around us that were clearly meant to be separate, and even if we tried to fix it the damage would still be there.
But like I often told myself, he was just as addictive as cigarettes. And with each drag I took, each kiss we shared, the worse it became for me. And in the end, even if I didn't realise it until far too late, they would always be bad for me. Nothing but pleasure and satisfaction.
I soon clicked back into the reality I had left for a second too long, and back into the conversation me and Julian were having before my mind was once again stolen by thoughts of Roger.
"No. Old friend. I've met Roger once, scrawny blonde guy with a very fragile temper." I chuckled with a slight nerve, Julian laughing much louder than I did as my lips reunited with the stick between my fingers.
"He threw his kit off the stage when I saw him. Don't know why. Suppose he was just angry at something. Made an awful crash right at the end. Thought the guy on bass was gonna get knocked over !"
"Of course he did." I laughed, glancing at the small clock strapped to my wrist, my eyes widening when I registered where exactly the two arrows were pointing. "Shit... I hate to be that person but I've got an interview tomorrow, quite an important one too. I didn't realise how late it was."
"No that's fine. It was amazing to meet you. You're so kind." I chuckled my bag over my shoulder, stubbing my cigarette in the ashtray as I gave him a grateful smile.
"Charlie, I've gotta shoot. Do me a favour and give Jules my number." I yelled, waving goodbye to the man behind the bar as he smiled, the one sat besides me with his eyes wide open in shock. "Call me sometime and we'll meet up. You're funny."
"You're crazy ! I'm some bloody gay little hairdresser, you don't wanna be hanging around with me Jesus. You need a glass of water or something- sober up a bit."
"Don't be stupid. I don't often actually want to be friends with people, wether I'm drunk or not, so don't decline the offer." I smiled again, leaving some spare notes and a handful of change on the side for Charlie before waving to Julian .
"Oh I won't. I'll see you later." He waved, smiling brightly as I turned on my heel and rushed out of the bar.
I didn't really plan to meet people in Charlie's, I had no intentions of meeting Roger Taylor that night, and certainly no plans to give some random hairdresser who knew my name my number. But it seemed when the alcohol tickled my thoughts I acted a lot more differently, which is exactly why I ended up meeting two people I didn't realise would be so important to me.
An- hope this was alright... thank you for reading :)