PRETTY LOVER BOY - ROGER TAYLOR

XX.

♛ ♛ ♛

It seems that recently, bouncing my leg nervously and sucking my cheek between my teeth has become an everyday occurrence, one that I may need to find out how to break before I send Roger into a frenzy.

It's been over two weeks since the Killer Queen photo shoot pictures had gone out and any press running the band went into an absolute storm. The reviews range from journalists applauding the shoot to some saying I simply must be a full on call girl. Currently, I'm reading a new magazine on the band, including the photo shoot, just to see what they're saying about it. We're on the tour bus, heading from Charleston to Miami. South Carolina to Florida, my nightmare. Because I know what waits for me there, and I know the promises that I made.

"You're doing it again," Roger sets his hand on my knee and I glance up from the magazine to him, immediately stopping my shaking.

"Sorry," I reply. I look to the scrabble game he's playing with Freddie, finding that Fred is, of course, winning.

"You've been on the same page for ten minutes now," Roger pulls the magazine to him as I pull his letters in front of me, scanning them and the board.

"I had to keep starting over, I wasn't really reading it," I lay down a word that uses all but one of his letters. "How many points is that?"

Freddie looks between me and the board. "That's cheating, you can't play for him."

I shake my head, looking to Roger as he reads, occasionally mouthing or mumbling a word. He gets to a particularly interesting section of the article and he mocks extreme shock.

"It says here us dating is only a cover up so that you can freely do it with every member of the band," Roger gasps, "they say you're just some crew slut who got lucky."

"How charming," I laugh.

"And here I thought I knew you," Freddie tuts and I scoff.

"I'm going to take a nap," I slide out of the booth like table, walking towards the back of the bus. As I go, I wave my hellos to some of the roadies who're on the bus.

"Which one was it? Who'd you get off for the tickets?" Roger shouts from his seat, and I flip him off.

"Whats he going on about?" Deaky asks me from one of the couches.

"Turns out I'm a crew slut," I reply, earning a questioning look from him. "I know, I was just as surprised as you. The more you know I guess."

I shrug my shoulders as John chuckles before I finally make it to the very back couch, flopping down face first on it. I groan, muffled by the cushions before I cross my arms, resting my head on them, facing towards the back of the couch. I'm only given a moments peace before I feel a hand on my back and I turn my head towards the person, not surprised to find Roger.

"Are you afraid?" He asks, crouching down next to me.

"Yes," I reply, looking down at his shirt.

"What of?" He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear.

"What they'll say," I move my gaze back up to his eyes.

"And?" He presses, running his thumb across my cheek. I lean into his touch.

"That my parents will show up." Roger's lower lip twitches a bit down before he stands up, sitting down next to me. He tucks his leg under him as I push closer, resting my head on his lap.