Somebody To Love (Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor fanfic)

twenty four

Like she always did; her mum picked a rather upscale, posh restaurant to eat at.

Rebecca really should have known that they were going somewhere like that when Morag insisted that she put a scarf on to hide the bruises scattered across her neck.

They were sat fairly quickly and being wary of the time, Rebecca decided against anything to fancy and just had the Ceaser salad while her mum went for the salmon.

"So," Morag began, "Tell me more about Roger. How'd you meet him?"

"It was actually because of Sophie," Rebecca explained, "She invited me to this gig with her friend Mary. Mary met Freddie, who's the singer and then that's how I got introduced to Roger."

"He's in a band?"

As soon as her mother said it, she heard it - the unimpressed tone in her voice, "Yes."

"That's funny. Sophie said that he's in uni."

Was there anything that Sophie hadn't told her?

"He was," she smiled, "He was in uni but he'd just dropped out. All of them have."

"Dropped out?" her mum looked simply horrified, "What would they go and do a thing like that for? They're throwing away their futures on the fantasy of a succeeding band."

Rebecca said a quiet thank you to the waiter who put her salad down in front of her before speaking to her mum again, "They're really good. And people are starting to know it. They've actually just been signed to EMI. The record company? They manage Elton John."

She was pleased to say that her mum actually looked impressed and realising that she had hit a nerve, Morag quickly changed the subject.

"What happened with the studio? With Jeremy?"

Rebecca shrugged, spearing some lettuce onto her fork, "Things weren't working out."

"Rebecca," her mother warned, "If you've thrown away a perfectly good job the-"

"A good job?" she scoffed, "Mum, I hated that place. I'm happier in my new job."

"Which is what?"

"I'm working at a makeup counter."

"Does it pay well? Does it pay more than what you got working for Jeremy?"

"Well, no, but that doesn't matter."

"Of course it matters," Morag snapped.

"Not to me, it doesn't. Mum, Jeremy treated me like shit. The people who used that studio treated me like shit. My job in there was to clean and they had me running around after them; getting them lunch, getting them their tea and cigarettes. But now, I'm doing something that I enjoy. Something that I'm actually good at!"

Her mum was shaking her head, "Do you know how that makes me feel? How it makes me look that you left the job I got for you? It makes me look like an idiot."

Rebecca felt her eyes burn. This isn't how she thought the lunch would go but really, she shouldn't have been surprised.

Her mother had been like this for years now. Always caring about what those around her thought of her. Obsessed with anything and everything that wasn't her daughter.

"You used to be so supportive," Rebecca said, her voice shaking, "All my life until I left school. Then you just stopped. Why?"

"You didn't try?"

"Didn't try?" she repeated, "I didn't try? Mum, you saw how many hours I spent revising. How many practice papers I did. How can you say that I didn't try?"