Faking It • Queen FanFiction

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 40

"Oh, come here," his voice melted and he held out his arms to embrace Bernie into a consoling hug. He couldn't bear to think that she had to repeat everything all over again, that her dream was pushed back another year. But this emotion didn't last long, as Bernie's acting skills collapsed. Her choked voice turned into a series of wheezes as she melted into hysteria, each bout of laughter sending twinges of pain down her aching back. Still, it was good to feel happy again after so many weeks of feeling utterly numb.

"Agh!"

"You bitch. You really had me for a second there. What did you do that for?" Roger's arms snapped closed and he crossed them to his chest, an indignant face turning away from her.

"Because you're a gullible twat." She responded, laughter beginning to subside. A smile replaced her initially feigned disappointment and he couldn't stay annoyed at her, especially when her eyes twinkled like that and lip quivered with the threat of more laughter.

"Remind me why we're bringing you with us to Rockfield again?"

"Because you all looooove meeeee," she beamed, happiness too strong to care about his opinions.

"Sure, whatever you say Bernie. Congratulations." Saying no more, he took off the handbrake and zoomed off in the direction of Bernie's flat to pick up her suitcase. His was already in the backseat, ready for Rockfield.

Unfortunately Flo wasn't home, so Bernie had to say her goodbyes earlier that morning. She walked into an empty flat with Roger tailing closely behind her. Luckily, Holden was nowhere to be seen. The flat was indeed empty unless you classed the massive array of carnations filling the living room. The impressive display blazed orange and filled the entire flat with an almost tropical aroma. "From me and the boys, we knew you could do it," Roger smiled from behind Bernie and she turned around and flung her arms around him.

"Ahhh, thank you! They're bloody gorgeous," suddenly, she reeled back and clutched her back. The way in which she'd hugged Roger had caused an even worse pain to shoot down her spine.

"You okay, Bernie?"

"Yeah, fine, my back is just trying to kill me."

"...I can fix that."

"W-what do you mean?" Bernie asked, skeptical of what he was hinting at. "Do you just keep a stash of painkillers in your pocket 24/7? You creep."

"No. Turn around and I'll bloody show you." Roger stood evenly on two feet, motioning for her to swivel round. But she wasn't just going to do what he said like that, especially as she was already trepidatious.

"Ah yes, because all good stories start with a horny boy and a random girl alone in a flat and an instruction to face away." She crossed her arms to her chest, unable to shift her weight from one hip to the other as it sent tingles of pain round to her back. Equally, she was trying to push thoughts of Holden out of her mind, running her thumb over the bruises on her wrists.

"Just trust me, I'm not like that piece of shit next door." Roger had no idea how much of a piece of shit Holden truly was, as Bernie hadn't told him about what had happened.

"Don't make me regret this, dickhead," with extreme reluctancy, she turned around slowly, and waited. Without sight of what was going on, her other senses heightened and she could hear the gentle sound of Roger's clothes rustling as he took a step closer. The smell of his potent yet pleasant aftershave grew stronger and she tensed up slightly.

"Where does it hurt?" His voice was somewhat quieter; he didn't need the extra volume as it would have deafened Bernie. At this tone, his voice was considerably more gruff and something happened to Bernie's knees. She wasn't sure what, but they suddenly felt unable to support her weight, like they'd gone to jelly.