ninety one

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"This is a bad idea. No, this is a terrible idea-"

"John, if you don't stop moving, it's going to be lopsided and then Roxanne really will kill me."

John's currently at in Roger and Rebecca's rather small kitchen, the brunette stood behind him with a pair of scissors in her hand.

"Deaky, it'll be fine," Roger pipes up from behind his newspaper, "You saw Freddie's hair. Bex did a good job."

"Why do you sound so surprised, Rog?" she asks and John can't help but flinch as another section of hair gets the cut.

How he ended up here, he didn't know. One minute, Freddie was going on about how with the new album, they should have new images...reinvent themselves if you will and as he listens to Roger and Becca argue, he can't help but wonder how Brian had managed to get out of this.

They were just a few days away from leaving for the US.

As Roger had said, Becca had indeed cut the frontman's hair as well and yes, it did look rather good but he was a little worried about how Roxanne was going to take this.

She rather liked his hair.

"Almost done," Rebecca cheers, "And if I do say so myself, it doesn't look that bad."

Roger finally puts his paper down and nods approvingly, "Look at that! It looks great and we can see your handsome face, Deaky."

Becca holds a mirror in front of him, one that he's just a little bit scared to look into, "I just need to even out the sides a little bit and then you're good to go."

He glances down at his watch. He was supposed to be helping Roxanne get things packed up for the tour. He then looks at Roger when he starts snickering, "What?"

"Nothing, nothing," he says quickly, "Just, how do you think Roxy's gonna take it? She's never seen you with short hair before."

"Roger, leave him alone," Becca scolds, patting John's shoulder, "She's going to love it, Deaky, don't worry."

"And if she doesn't," her boyfriend decides to pipe up again, "Prepare for divorce."

"Roger!"

John shakes his head and stands once Becca's brushed all of the stray hairs from his neck, "Alright, I'm going to go."

"Good luck!" Roger calls and the bassist gives him a weak smile.

God, he really hoped she likes it.

++|++

"You can't sit in there you silly boy!" Roxanne giggles, watching as Arthur claps his hands while sat in the middle of John's suitcase, "Come on, daddy will be home soon and then we'll have to pack up your stuff too!"

He squirms as she lifts him up, a quiet protest leaving his mouth as she sits him back down on the rug and while she continues to pack up some of John's clothes, he crawls towards the window.

It's a floor-length window, and over the past few weeks, he's mastered the art of pulling himself up so he can peer out into the front garden.

Roxanne hums along with the radio,  putting the last of John's shirts in the case before closing it up.

With the window being so low, it gives Arthur the perfect view of John getting home from work.

Roxanne always knows when he's home; Arthur starts banging on the glass -there are tiny handprints everywhere- and squealing happily as his father makes his way up the path.

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