the timeline of this story is all over the joint. pls ignore any inaccuracies
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"Can I ask you something?"
There was no gig today and it seemed that the band were taking some much needed time away from each other. And naturally, Roger and Rebecca had stayed holed up in their hotel room; watching shitty daytime tv and ordering room service that they most definitely couldn't afford.
Roger looked up from where he was scribbling in his notebook, giving her an encouraging smile, "Anything."
"What are you doing for Christmas?"
The tour was coming to an end next week and just the week after, was Christmas. Normally, Rebecca would go home for the holidays but with the whole not talking to her mum thing, she didn't really know what was in store for her this year.
He put the pen down and rubbed at his eyes, making her frown.
"You okay?"
"Hm?" he asked, tossing the book aside, "Yeah, fine. My eyes are just a bit sore."
"How do you mean?"
"They're dry." he shrugged.
"I don't think your eyes are supposed to be dry," she murmured, mostly to herself but Roger still heard and he sighed loudly.
"What are you? An optician?"
He hadn't meant for it to come out so snappy, but it did and when she raised an eyebrow at him, he was quick to shake his head, "'m sorry love. Didn't mean for it to come out like that."
Rebecca put down her magazine and scooted closer, nestling herself under his arm when he raised it.
"Now, you were asking about Christmas?"
She nodded, "What are you doing?"
"I'm not sure," he admitted, "Normally I'd go home to King's Lynn but my mum and sister are going to visit my grandparents. Dad, don't know about him."
"When am I going to meet them?"
"Who? My family?"
She mumbled a quiet yes, toying with her hands, "I mean, you've met mine. Well, my mum."
"Don't remind me," he muttered.
"And I just thought that since y'know, we're moving in together and things are..." she trailed off, a sudden thought hitting her, "Unless, of course, you don't want me to meet them."
"Don't be daft," he said, running his hand down her arm to hold hers, "'course I want you to meet them. Mum said they were coming back the twenty-seventh. So maybe we could go up and see them and you can meet my mum and sister."
"Do they know about me?"
"Mum does. Pretty sure she started planning the wedding when I told her how mad I am for you."
He said it so casually but Rebecca's face flushed at the mere mention of the word.
She waited until she was sure that her face had returned to its normal colour before looking at him again but one look at the smug smile that was on his face, she knew he had seen.
She cleared her throat, "Do you think she'll like me?"
He tightened his arm around her shoulders, planting a soft kiss on her forehead, "She'll love you."
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With the end of the tour approaching, the two of them knew that they really had to start thinking about what larger things of Roger's they were going to bring to their flat.
Roger had started making a list while she was in the shower, sorting everything into three columns that were; sell, keep and get rid of.
"Is that your list?" Rebecca asked, towel drying her hair as she emerged from the bathroom wearing one of the crappy white robes that were provided by the hotel.
"It is," he nodded as she fell down onto the bed beside him, resting her head on his shoulder despite the fact that her hair was still damp, going over what he had written down.
"Chair?" she asked, pointing to where it was in the get rid of column, "The checked one?"
"Yeah," he confirmed and she was quick to take the pen and notebook from him, scoring the word out and re-writing it in the keep section.
"That's much better," she grinned, "You can't get rid of it, Rog. I love that chair."
"I don't think you've got room for it." he chuckled as she continued to skim the list.
"We'll make some."
"Speaking of room," he mumbled, taking a sip of tea, "Do you think there's space in your bedroom for my kit?"
"Your drum kit?"
He nodded, "I mean, I think we might have to push the bed against the wall but I reckon after that, it'll fit."
"You...you want to bring your drum kit into the flat?"
His eyebrows furrowed, "Well yeah. Where else are they going to go?"
She shrugged, "I was thinking that we could put them into the storag-"
"Storage?" he looks appalled that she'd even suggest a thing, "You want me to put them in storage?"
"Just for a little bit!" she gaped, "Rog, you can't possibly think that they're going to fit in my bedroom."
"Storage," he repeated, "You...do you know what happens to things in storage?"
She was reluctant to answer, "They get stored?"
"No, Bex, they get damaged or stolen. And that isn't happening to my bloody drums. I'm not putting them in some shitty storage facility for them to get nicked half an hour after we leave them."
"Rog, if you would just let me finis-"
"No," he cut her off again, "No. I'm sorry, Bex but that's not happening. End of discussion."
Rebecca would have laughed at the small pout that was on his lips but she knew if she did, it'd just add fuel to the fire and so she just reached for her own mug of tea and took a sip.
She really wished she hadn't brought it up.
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If there was one thing Rebecca had learned from being Roger's girlfriend, it was that he could hold onto something for hours.
She'd seen Brian and John be on the receiving end of one of his moods but she'd never experienced one directed at her and she had to admit, she found it rather amusing.
Usually, before a gig, he'd keep her close to his side but tonight, he'd stayed close to Freddie and the boys, choosing to talk to them instead of her and he asked Hannah to do his eyeliner.
She just couldn't be sure if he was angry with her for suggesting the storage. He probably was but he was a closed book sometimes, wouldn't let her know how he's feeling.
She didn't mind not doing his makeup. It just meant that she had more time to experiment with Freddie's. While the other three always went for more subtle looks, he always went for something more outside the box, dramatic and she loved it.
"Okay my darling," he said when she found him sitting in front of a mirror sorting his hair, "Work your magic."
She wordlessly sat sideways on his lap, not the most comfortable position but she found that it was the easiest way to apply anything and she thanked Mary when she appeared with a beer for her.
"So," Freddie began, making sure that he was keeping still for her, another thing she loved about him, "I can't help but notice that your darling boyfriend is giving you a bit of a wide berth. Have you two had a falling out?"
"No," Rebecca smiled, opening her liquid eyeliner, "Close your eyes. He's just being silly."
"Care to share?"
She sighed, "He wants to bring his drums. Y'know, the ones he uses to practice at his place. But you've seen my flat, Freddie. It's not that much bigger than his. Can barely fit my bed in my room without adding a bloody drum kit to the mix."
"I see."
"And when I mentioned maybe putting them into storage, he looked at me as if I'd just suggested we go rob a bank." she continued.
"Oh, yes," Freddie agreed, "He wouldn't have liked that one bit."
"And it's not like it's some random storage facility. It's just across the road."
"Did you tell him that?" he asked.
"I didn't get the chance," she mumbled, "He shut the conversation down after my absurd suggestion."
She almost messed up the dramatic winged look she was going for when there was a cry of pain from across the room and both she and Freddie looked to see that Roger had a palm pressed to his eyes and Hannah was apologising profusely while John and Brian laughed behind them.
"Give me that," Roger snapped, snatching the eyeliner from her and Freddie gave Rebecca's leg a tap, bringing her attention back to him.
"Sorry," he spoke a couple of minutes later and out the corner of her eye, she saw Roger standing by the pair, "She's busy."
"I see that," Roger hissed, looking at Rebecca, "But when you're done? Hannah's shit."
"Hey!" the brunette yelled, "It's hard to do it on someone else, okay?"
Rebecca laughed quietly and nodded, "I'll be over in a bit."
"Great. Thanks, love."
She left Freddie singing her praises to Mary, finding Roger sat on one of the couches and when she approached, he looked up and gave her a bright smile.
"You know," she said as she climbed onto his lap, practically straddling him since y'know, he is her boyfriend and his hands held her hips, "Suprised you even asked me. Haven't said so much as five words to me today."
She's glad to see that he looks sheepish and he clears his throat, "Sorry love. You know how I get."
"I do," she hummed, "But you didn't give me a chance to tell you that the storage I'm talking about, it's just across the road, in that building that looks like a garage. But it's not. Your drums would be safe."
He looked away from her when there was a commotion from the others and she put her hand on his chin, gently moving his head so he was looking at her again, "Honestly, Roger. You have the attention span of a goldfish." She then sighed, sorting a little bit of his hair for him, "Will you at least think about it? The storage?"
Sighing, he nodded, grinning when she leant in to kiss him.
She'd take that for now.
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i feel like this story is getting a little boring and repetitive