More than just a friend || Roger Taylor

Prologue- The man of my past

5th October 1980

My heart was beating at a speed I was struggling with, my leg bouncing and my cheeks covered by a blush caused simply by what seemed to be uncontrollable nerves. I took my eyes away from the floor, and tried to let them meet his, the soft blue eyes I remember staring into with nothing but awe as he used to hold me against him... but he didn't let me. He let them fall onto every detail of the room, but not me.

As I looked at him sat across from me, slightly edged back from the wooden table keeping us apart, there was a slight jitter in the pit of my stomach. He'd effortlessly caused a sweat to build on the palm of my hands as they held my mug unsteadily. My head tried desperately to untangle the knot of memories he was a part of. They all seemed to be bad, unsettling, none of them happy ones that would cause my lips to turn upwards. Instead they were straight, edging towards a frown as he sat there focused on nothing but the smoke leaking from the cigarette sat delicately between his middle and index finger.

The smoke filled the silence. Every so often there would by a light tap against the ashtray that was so gentle you couldn't notice it unless your eyes were fixed on his worn hands like mine were.

I remembered them being softer, more delicate than how they looked now, especially when they held me. They seemed more fitting to his character now, they finally suited the man who played the drums as his career.

It seemed most parts of him matched now. He wasn't the mismatched jumbled of pieces, the one that was too intriguing and tempting, that I knew him to be. Everything fit now.

His eyes weren't too angelic anymore. They weren't as soft and delicate, and they didn't prize my frame like they used to. His lips didn't have a small tug in the corner that forced them into a dangerous smirk anymore, the same one that made me blush in seconds. They were straight now, bland and boring enough to pair well with his lifeless eyes, allowing my cheeks to remain only their natural colour, not even giving them a chance to tinge red.

"So are we just gonna sit here in silence ?" He asked, flicking the ash from the cancerous stick he always held. His voice was scratchier, more husky and rough than the last time we spoke. It felt used, far too worn for something I used to think was so delicate.

"It's been years. I don't know what I'm meant to say." I replied quietly. His eyes continued to stay clear of mine as he moved further back into his chair, trying to create a greater distance between us as his shoulders shrugged lazily.

I didn't have much idea as to why I really was there. Ever since the day the truth about him was finally revealed, I'd spent every morning trying to push the memories of us away and every night trying to swallow them down with more than just a sip of vodka. But when I saw him again only a handful of minutes earlier, I couldn't say no to him.

Despite the fact he'd changed, and he wasn't the same Roger I found myself falling for, there was one thing I knew was going to stay nothing but the same. The hold he had on me. There was of course no physical element to it, but in any given moment between us where he'd asked me something, I could never recall saying no. And I think that's because for the most bizarre reason, I didn't know how.

"I miss you Lynn." He added. There was no hesitation, no regret, no small detail that gave me the tiniest thought he didn't mean what he said. If anything, there was a hollow emptiness in his tone that told me far too little.

An overwhelming sense seemed to jump over me, leaving me trapped in a thick blanket of a feeling far too odd to describe. I couldn't even pin what is was that caused it. It could've been the nickname, the way his voice said it, or even the way his eyes quickly looked up at mine and then down again as his cheeks shyly shone red, but that simple moment had sent such an odd feeling crashing over me.

"What we had is the past. And what we could've had is a different story. But I couldn't be with you. Not when she was in the picture." I manage to mumble. He simply sighed and let his tea spoon clash down onto the saucer his mug was sat on, grasping the attention of one or two strangers.

There was nothing said between us for a brief moment after that. The cigarette burnt away, lasting only one or two drags more before he stubbed it out. The distance between us grew, as did the tension as we both managed to edge further back in our chairs.

"But she's gone now." He suddenly replied, a desperation in his tone that didn't settle well with my knotted stomach and already swarmed mind.

"I know." I whispered back, brushing my hair behind my ears as I sighed nervously, a shake clear in the release of air that plucked his attention.

"So ?"

"So what Rog ?" I almost chuckled, in disbelief we was sat opposite me with a tone trying to convince me to fall into the same trap I'd hardly escaped from.

"Cmon Adelynn, what we had that was-"

"No. I was crazy about you Roger, and you loved someone else. You're the one that let me fall head over heels for you when you knew you couldn't fall back. You made me look so stupid." I didn't expect myself to say what I did, shocked my the lack of hesitation that caused him to nod slowly. He didn't argue it, he accepted it, not bothering to fight back a battle he knew we would loose.

"And I'm sorry." Roger mumbled, looking straight into my eyes that weren't yet ready for his to try and treasure them like they wanted to. He looked into them with a desperation, a plead almost, though I don't think either of us knew what he was begging for.

"You weren't sorry when I needed you to be, and now you're trying to bring back a part of my life I've only just buried."

"Look... I remember the first time we met you said if we ever saw each other again it would be fate, and you'd give me a chance." I remembered the exact moment probably better than he did, letting the memory of it play far too many times.

"This isn't the same." I mumbled again. This time it really didn't feel like fate. This time it felt like a mistake, something my future seemed eager for me to relive, though my past wanted it to be something I didn't bring back.

"Why isn't it ?"

"Because I know who you really are now." I felt the guilt crash down on me as he sipped his drink, his hand running back through his hair and his mouth sat perched open whilst his mind fought over his next words. He knew they needed to picked carefully.

"I did love you. I really did. More than I wanted to admit to anyone. Even you." Roger waited to hear me gasp, or at least watch my eyebrows raise with a element of shock in the expression, but I didn't let the words really sink him. I brushed them away, nudging them in a direction far enough away for them to be meaningless to me for that moment.

"Roger... you loved someone else."

An- I've never done a prologue before so I hope this was alright... and I really hope you enjoy this book ! I had a lot of fun writing these first couple chapters and I'm excited for you to read them :)

Thank you !!