Heaven for Everyone (Queen/Roger Taylor)

13.

June 1992

Rain pelts against the roof, the sound somehow both soothing and jarring. My hair is still damp, the discarded towel on the floor beside me.

Across from me, Cassie twirls a lock of blonde hair nervously around her finger whilst staring down at her mug of tea. Lightning illuminates the kitchen, followed by a loud thunderclap. We both startle slightly, our eyes meeting briefly.

"Did you plan this to make your visit all the more dramatic?" she asks, a small smile on her face.

"Celebrity has its upsides," I reply with a grin. "Even the weather gods pick up when I call."

Cassie shifts slightly in her chair and takes a deep breath, her hazel eyes on mine.

"Here's the thing," she says again. My heart starts to beat more rapidly as I wait.

"I like you, Roger--"

She pauses slightly, and my eyes brighten momentarily even though I fully anticipate a huge but.... to follow.

"But I'm not going to date you."

And there it is.

"Okay, Cass, look, I've said that I'm sorry. I swear--" My back is straight, my words urgent because I really fucking need her to believe me. "--I didn't leave that night because I wasn't into it. Trust me, I was."

"I know," she says, taking a sip of heavily-spiked tea. "It's not about that."

"So... what's it about, then?" Because I've shown up unexpectedly like the leading man in a romantic comedy. And I'm on the edge of the proverbial limb, dangling precariously over a pit of despair and embarrassment.

She shrugs and looks up at the ceiling before her eyes find mine again. "I have trust issues. Especially with people like you."

"I assume you mean people from Cornwall?"

She grins momentarily, and I can't help but do the same. Just as quickly, my smile fades, and I reach my arm across the table to grasp her hand.

"I'm more than a drummer in a band, Cass," I say. "I'm just me, really. I'm just Rog. I'm a person first and foremost."

I hate the fact that I have to point this out to her, as I'd always thought that she was the one person who might get it. But perhaps I've been totally off-base this entire time.

"I know," she replies, squeezing my hand. "You're a person. A lovely person. But you're also a very well-known drummer in a very-well known band. So, I'm not getting involved with you any more than I already am."

I remove my hand and lean back in the chair, eyeing her quizzically. Anger flares in my chest, despite my best efforts to tamp it down.

"So, if you knew all along that you don't date people like me" -- I spit out the words because, really, I am indeed a person with feelings and a heart and a soul -- "then why--"

I trail off mid-sentence as Cassie stands up abruptly and walks to the counter, her slim hips swaying gently as she reaches for the bottle of brandy. She carries it back to the table and pours it liberally into her mug, then mine. She sits back down and takes a fortifying gulp of what now is mostly liquor.

"Cass, what's this all about? That's fine if you want nothing to do with me--"

"--that's not what I said," she murmurs.

"--but at least be honest with me. What's going on?"

Cassie exhales heavily and carefully sets her mug on the table. She leans slightly forward, balancing her chin on an upturned hand.