3 - Doing Alright

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Roger's POV

The morning after we arrived at Ridge Farm, I woke up to the sound of birds chirping outside my window. While that sounds nice in theory, I was exhausted after a late night scrabble competition, so I raised my middle finger in their general direction. I groaned, turning onto my side to grab the alarm clock I hadn't bothered to set - it was just after nine.

The house was calm and quiet as I got out of bed. I dressed casually, before deciding my outfit was too boring and added my infamous sparkly pink Converse shoes.

I walked into the kitchen where I found Brian lost in thought, sipping his morning coffee while writing something down on a piece of paper. He looked up, "Good morning, Rog."

"Morning, Bri."

"I made some coffee," Brian offered, gesturing with his pencil towards the coffee machine near the stove.

A smile teased my lips, "Oh, thanks!" I poured myself a cup and looked back towards the guitarist. He was staring intently at his work, the eraser end of his pencil touching his bottom lip. I let myself admire him, noticing the way his mouth parted slightly when he was focused on something.

Then Brian looked up and made eye contact, catching me completely off guard, "Is something wrong?"

Flustered, I broke my gaze, "No, sorry." I looked down at my coffee cup, trying to think of something to say to break the tension, "I must be a little out of it today - not enough sleep."

I rested my arms resting against the edge of the counter across from Brian. By now, he was done writing and was reading what appeared to be song lyrics. I pointed at the paper, "Are those lyrics?"

He looked up at me, embarrassment bringing color to his cheeks, then flipped over the paper, "Yeah, it's just something I've been working on."

"Can I read it?"

He put his elbow on the counter, resting his chin in his hand, "Well, it's not exactly the finished product yet."

I paused, then decided to drop the subject and change it slightly, "I've been working on a song too."

Brian's POV

I raised my head and met Roger's eyes, "You have?" He nodded. I felt relieved that he hadn't made me share my song, because I wasn't quite sure what - or who - the song was about. I wanted to sort that out before I shared the lyrics with the band.

After looking through the fridge, Roger looked back at me, a hint of a smile on his lips. My mind went blank as I felt butterflies in my stomach. I smiled back, not sure what to say next. Why was I getting nervous? Before I could gather my thoughts, John walked into the room.

"Good morning," Deaky chirped, going straight for the coffee machine.

"Morning," I said.

"Morning, Deaky," Roger replied.

With his cup of coffee, John joined me at the counter. He smirked, "Is Brian still upset?"

I must have looked confused, because Roger elaborated, "I think that was the first time in recent history Brian's lost at scrabble."

"I wouldn't have cared if I hadn't lost to Paul," I joked, my voice dropping to nearly a whisper.

"Speak of the devil," Roger mumbled as the manager walked into the room.

"Has anyone seen Freddie?" Paul asked.

"No, not yet today," Roger replied.

I was still trying to be nice to Paul, at least to his face, so I answered his question truthfully, "He's having a smoke outside."

As if on queue, Freddie walked back inside, "Did I miss anything?"

"Paul was just looking for you," Deaky replied without looking up from his coffee.

"Were you, dear?" Freddie asked.

"Yes, well - I was just going to ask if the recording studio meets your standards." Paul stammered.

"We haven't even looked at the studio yet - at least I haven't," Freddie explained, leaning against the wall, "We should get on that. Boys, after breakfast we're taking a little field trip down to the recording studio!"


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