Song - She Loves You - The Beatles
Roger's POV
It hurt to walk back up those tiny garden stairs that led to the painted green door. Every step I took reminded me of the mistakes I'd made, of the people inside that house that I had hurt with my petty actions. The sight of the door itself, a lime beacon reminding me of the people inside, filled me with nausea. In situations like this, when I was forced to admit that I was wrong, my first instinct was to run and deny any wrongdoing. My second instinct was to scream about how it wasn't my fault and attack the other person until they finished berating me, realising that forcing me to admit my mistakes was a lost cause.
That was the boy in me. I had to be a man now. The man they needed me to be. The man who could apologise and make it all better.
Sighing softly, I reached out with my free hand and knocked gently on the door, my other hand clutching tightly to the bright bouquet of flowers I had brought with me. Roses - the plant for which my daughters middle name was styled - and Lilies. Lilies had always been Victoria's favourite. I remembered them, darling. I'm not saying the flowers will make it all okay again, but they were a step in the right direction.
Victoria opened the door, her mouth falling open in shock at the sight of me, her eyes hungrily drinking me in. Slowly, her irises narrowed in rage. I couldn't focus on her for too long, as Lola quickly darted across the room and wrapped her arms around me, tearing my eyes away from her mother.
"DADDY, YOU'RE HERE" she squealed excitedly as I embraced her in a right hug. Victoria turned to glare at Deaky, realising that he was behind my sudden invitation.
I guess that meant she was still mad at me.
"John, can I talk to you upstairs for a moment, please?" Victoria demanded, rather than asked. She didn't wait for the males response as she turned and headed up the staircase, leaving him no option but to follow her. Lola waited until her mother had left the room before she grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the staircase.
"Where are we going?" I questioned. Lola glared at me, putting her finger to her lips and making a soft 'shhing' sound.
"I NEED to show you something" she half-whispered as she led me into her room and began towards the chest of drawers, on top of which were housed all of her teddies.
"Lola, you've showed me your teddy collection before" I pointed out in amusement. The first day I had met her, as I had tried to put the hyper child to bed, she had spent a good ten minutes carefully pulling out every teddy bear she owned and explaining their name and origin story. As cute as that had been, I was itching to speak with Victoria, and apologise for my actions.
"It's not that silly!" She critiqued as she rummaged around in the bottom drawer of the set, eventually pulling out a small silver shoebox and pulling off the lid. "This is my memory box" she explained, as though she were talking to a small, clueless child. I sat beside her on the carpeted floor as she began to carelessly empty the box, clearly searching for something in particular. I scanned the contents of the box that littered the floor, marvelling at the hoarde of pictures of Lola as a baby, including a photo taken from when she was first born, a tiny baby in Victoria's arms in the hospital.
Eventually, Lola found the photos she was looking for, pressing a wad of them into my hands with a triumphant glean in her eyes.
"How did you get all this stuff?" I questioned on amazement as I carefully glanced through the photos, my eyes lingering on some memories longer than others. From the worn, faded photo collection my own face, and those of my bandmembers, stared back at me. These were the photos from that tour, the one that Victoria accompanied us on, when were all so young. Back then, I was on so many drugs that all the days blended into one; it was only now, looking back, that I could remember everything clearly.
