More than just a friend || Roger Taylor

7- He was just like cigarettes

23rd January 1978

Tw- mentions of abuse

And of course when he did call, and I didn't let it ring. In fact, since the night I'd spent at his house I seemed to blush red and smile excitedly every time I did hear the loud echo of the blaring phone.

I couldn't yet place why or how I'd become so quickly desperate for Roger- but there was no denying I had. At first I thought it was the excitement, the fear, the fun of doing something you knew you shouldn't.

Then I managed to convince myself it was purely fate, how the moment in which we were living in was one we knew the two of us had somehow by chance shared. Nothing between the two of us was necessarily planned, it was all rather spontaneous considering the two of us had fairly tight schedules to work around.

But it wasn't until several phone calls later, and many nights spent trying to swallow down the feeling, I realised that really it was him. All him. How I simply enjoyed being in his company, wether it was seeing his smirk as he walked through the door, hearing his raspy voice over the phone, or even managing to be the girl in his arms at a party. I was still always smiling when he was there.

And that's how I'd become so addicted to him. He was just like a cigarette really. Once you'd tried it, inhaled the smoke for the first time, you were too tempted to try it again. And again. And again. Until it became something you relied on.

Roger Taylor worked the same way. The first time I met him, I knew I wanted to again. And then I did, and then again after that. It wasn't long before I was wrapped in his arms as we swayed to slow beats, and that's when I became addicted. But I was still yet to become reliant on him.

When the sound of the phone buzzed through the four walls, despite the possibility of it not actually being the blonde's voice I wanted it to be, I would immediately jump up and answer it.

And luckily this time, it was exactly the same raspy, slightly worn tone of the drummer that had been occupying my mind for the past week.

"I've just bought a copy of that new mag you were in, and I gotta say... wow." I heard the sound of paper pages being flicked through as I chuckled slightly, initially shocked by the way he started the call. "Don't suppose you got to keep that piece you're wearing on the cover ?"

"I didn't I'm afraid."

"Fuck. I would've loved to of seen you in that." He exclaimed, my head shaking gently from side to side as I heard him faintly toss the paper down onto some form of a surface. "So... what exactly have you been up to today ?"

"Are you honestly that interested ? Cause I can assure you now it's rather boring."

"I wouldn't of asked if I didn't care." He reassured me, my lips curling upwards as the phone cord wrapped around my fingers.

"Mel booked another shoot. And another bloody commercial for a new makeup company. And she's still begging me to become an actress, and I'm still turning the offer down." I laughed a little, just as he clicked his tongue and let a short lived sigh fill the gap in the call.

"Don't become an actress. Just don't."

"I won't Roger. Don't you worry." I reassured him, nodding slowly as I pushed away the thought and tried to introduce something to my mind that would push away the silence we'd become trapped in together.

"So... I was thinking, me and you ought to go out somewhere you know. I've been bored shitless listing to Jim rant on about a new album... so I need something to take my mind off things I think. And also think you should be that something." Roger let his sudden shock of confidence drain besides the pause I welcomed as I tried to think of an answer decent enough for his unexpected offer.