You Look Like Shit

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One Week Without Him

The next few days were similar to how your definition of hell would be. You barely got to talk to Roger as he was whisked away into the busy lifestyle of tour. The terribly long night of staying up and waiting for his plane to land safely in America couldn't even compare to the days of waiting that came after.

The first few days were the rehearsals, full blown stage practices and run-throughs of their lineup for the tour.

The only time you got to talk to Roger was around 4 am for you, 11 PM for him, after the show ended. You found yourself waking up by 3 every night anticipating his phone calls. He was so tired by the time, but he still loved you telling you every detail.

The best part of your day were his calls, honestly. As soon as the boys had left, you'd gone right back into work with Miami and met Elton John.

Elton was a pretty interesting person and you didn't have much of an opinion on him yet, all you had deducted was that he was incredibly charming. You did enjoy spending time with him, but you couldn't even fathom comparing it to how you were with Queen. You missed Freddie. He was the one who'd decided to hire you in the first place, you missed Brian and how much you liked annoying him, you missed Deaky because he was always the mature one and so calm, and Roger, of course.

You were on your bed, exhausted, surrounded by cardboard boxes filled with your stuff. You honestly couldn't stay up any longer, the past weeks you'd been working all day with Elton and packing your stuff at night. You couldn't believe it. You were gonna go live at Roger's place. It was insane. You were still doubting it because it felt crazy to live there when he wasn't. It felt like you would be invading his privacy. It would obviously feel good to stay in an actual apartment like an adult, and not in this trailer like some hippie, but in the end, it wasn't your apartment.

Your job with Elton was stressful but it was worth the pay you got, maybe you could get your own place till Roger came back from tour. The phone rang through and you jumped off in a millisecond to pick it up, pressing the receiver to your phone.

"Roger?" You asked.

"Hi" He said and you burst into a grin at hearing his voice. You loved hearing him talk, his voice was so soft and smooth and you could drown in it and some nights you ended up falling asleep with him on the phone. He would be talking, telling you about the show, about which set they played and you would just sit quietly and listen to it. He would always be confused when you wouldn't respond until he realized that you'd dozed off and he would never admit it to you, but whenever that happened, he tends to stay a bit longer on the phone so he could hear you breathe and softly snore. It always made him smile.

Hearing Roger talk was the highlight of all your days, he'd always make a sexual comment, despite being in the presence of others and you would hate him for it, for causing you the mortification, but it was actually because you were aching for him. You were aching to hear him speak in the morning, his voice sore and husky as you remembered the day he woke you up with kisses. You loved hearing his voice when he was excited about something, raising a pitch just when you thought it couldn't get any higher. You missed how rough he sounded when he spoke while fucking you, and how a moan would sound from his mouth when you kissed the spot on his neck.

"How was the show?" You asked, excitedly and jumped up on your kitchen counter.

"It was amazing, the energy in the crowds was insane. I really wish you would've been there" He breathed, you could tell he was all worn out from the show and hearing him pant was honestly so hot.

"Nobody wishes that more than me. I can't believe I'm missing all of this. It's so important for you and I'm here stuck in an office" You said.

"Well it was your decision to stay, love" He said and you heard multiple voices in the back.

Falling Slowly ⤖ Roger Taylor [Completed]Where stories live. Discover now