Classic Rock One Shots

Roger Taylor #2

Sorry this sucks so much. I tried

England, 1965

I knocked on the door, waiting impatiently for the answer. "Y/n." Mr. Taylor smiled, opening the heavy oak door.

"I-i'm here to-" I stuttered, Mr. Taylor making me oddly nervous. "It's alright Y/n, you don't need an excause to be here." He gleefully smiled, stepping out of the way.

"Thank you." I smiled after he closed the door for me. "He's upstairs, probably bangin' away at those drums." He laughed.

"Okay." I giggled, bouncing up the stairs. The intensily loud sound of the drums pounded from his room. Even with the door closed.

The family had tried to sound proof his room, but to no avail.

He was also singing as he played. I couldn't place what he was playing, so I figured he was singing an original.

I opened the door and walked past his drums, sitting on his bed. He stopped playing and stared at me, shocked.

"Uh-uh-Y/n, hi." He shyly smiled after sputtering. "Hi." "Whatcha doin here?" His voice was high and nervous.

"You invited me round to see you play..." I reminded. "Oh right, sorry." He laughed nervously. I could practically see the buckets of sweat dripping  off his brow.

"So when is the show?" I asked. "In about thirty minutes." His clipped cadence was a dead give away to his nervous state.

"You look nice." He chocked out. "As do you." I nodded.

A beep from outside the home interrupted our awkward silence. "That's Thom." We hurried down to the car.

"This is Y/N." Roger smiled as we sat in the back of his Lead Singer's car. "Oh, we've heard a lot about you." The lead singer, Thom, smiled.

"Rog's quiet fond of ya." The guitarist, Vic, cheekily smirked. "Yeah he always talks about how much he loves your b-"

"Presense." Roger grinned awkwardly, interrupting his bassist, Michael.

-
The show was great! Roger is an amazing drummer and singer. I can tell he's going to be famous one day.

-

"I have to pack these up, sorry." He got on his knees and started packing his drums into their cases. His nimble fingers twisted knobs and his strong yet slim arms picked up drums stands.

Awkwardly, I stood off to the side. Didn't think it would be this awkward to see Roger after class. Usually he was a delight. Now he's just.... weird.

"All done." Thom exclaimed walking up to the band that stood on the curb. "Great. Let's get the hell out of here!"

The drive back to Roger's was a little less awkward than the drive to, but it was mostly because they were all so tired.

"See you at practice man." Michael patted his shoulder as he got out of the car. "Great show Rog, thanks again." Thom nodded as Roger closed the door.

"See ya lot." Roger nodded before the car drove away. "Walk ya home?" He asked. "Of course."

Walking in silence brought me back to the awkward feeling from before. Roger was once again very nervous.

We reached my street and I dreaded having to leave him. "Rogah?" I asked, my accent mocking his. "Yeah?" He turned and looked at me.

"Do 'ya like me?" His face flushed red and he looked down. The contrast of his crimson face and short blond hair made him look adorable.

"Yeah. Yes. A lot." He laughed nervously. "Good." I kissed his burning cheek and opened my front door.

"See ya tomrrrow." I waved before closing the door.