An: hey guys, I did post this on my profile but for everyone who didn't see it, there will be two updates of this story tonight. This one is Brian's perspective of helping Roger through rehab and continues lots of references to blood, needles, drug abuse and suicide which may not be suitable/interesting for everyone. The next part will be a continuation from where the last chapter left off with Roger and Tori.
MayRogers_
Brian's POV
The second I finished, I wordlessly rolled off Chrissie, reaching for a cigarette as I pushed myself off the single bed and pulled my tatty robe around my nude frame. Chrissie didn't say anything, leaning back against the satin pillows as she tried to regain her breathe. I lit my cigarette with shaking hands, turning to gaze at the darkness of inner city London through the grimy bedroom window. The city was alive with noise and people, even now, at this hour, but I'd still never felt more alone.
Somewhere, within the suburban sprawl of highrise apartments, my friends were all sat around, laughing, drinking, congratulating the happy couple as I drowned miserably in vices of my own making. Cast aside.
"You can go now" I stated cruelly, unable to bring myself to gaze at the brunette sprawled across my bed, not after what I had said, not after the name that had slipped out during my climax. I didn't particularly like Chrissie, I didn't harbour any romantic feelings towards her, but still, I knew that had to hurt.
There was nothing I can do or say to make it better, so what's the point? What's the point of anything?
Behind me, I was vaguely aware of scuffling sounds, indicating that Chrissie had obliged with my wishes and was hastily pulling her clothes on. This wasn't a breach of the usual procedure; Chrissie had been sleeping with me for long enough by now to know that I didn't do pillow talk, that I didn't like my liaisons out staying my welcome. Unlike the other girls, it didn't seem to bother her. In fact, it seemed this arrangement suited her quite well too. I'd never bothered to ask. Or wondered why she kept coming back here.
"I've been wondering who she was" Chrissie announced, her words catching me off guard. We rarely spoke to each other at all, much less after sex. She normally was the person to get up and leave without a word. She didn't seem upset that I had spoken another girls name; just the opposite, she was glad she'd finally found out who it was.
Yes Brian, you really were that transparent. Even Chrissie, a girl you spoke to for less than twenty minutes before you started bedding her, realised your shitty behaviour was because of Victoria. Why else would anybody enter a shitty relationship like this that consisted merely of sex?
"She's Roger's girl, right? Or, at least, she used to be Roger's girl" Chrissie worked out. I turned to glance at her in confusion, wondering just how she did know so much about our lives. "Freddie talks" Chrissie shrugged at my expression as she began to pull on her jeans. Chrissie was an old acquaintance of Freddie's from the days before Queen when Freddie had worked at Heathrow Airport on the Baggage section. Chrissie had worked on a coffee stall there. They'd kept in touch sporadically over the years, which had led to my invitation to meet Chrissie. Freddie didn't seem bothered in the slightest that I was using his friend for sex.
"Well, it looks like she is Roger's girl again" I sighed as I turned away to face the starless city starline. I picked up my half-drunk bottle of beer from my bedside table and took a deep swig, swaying slightly. When I had called Chrissie on my way home from the recording studio, she had still been at Heathrow, and had informed she would take at least an hour to get to my apartment. Having little else to do when I breached the door of my tidy tenement, I had cracked open the alcohol, resolving to drink the stress of the day away. It was only now that it was beginning to hit me.
