To love a flower ~ Roger Taylor

Chapter 7

I'm a fool for I believed your lies...

Renée woke up from a throbbing pain in her head. She opened her eyes a little bit and searched for the source of light in the room.

Wait…this wasn’t her room.

There, where her desk would usually stand, stood a clothes rail.
Her record shelf was replaced by big, dark curtains keeping the daylight out, and the mattress she felt under her body was certainly not hers.

And that’s when all the images flooded into her head again. The bar, meeting Joanne, going to Roger’s van, talking to Roger, kissing Roger…

Her heart began beating faster when she thought about it. Had this really happened, or was it just a dream that felt very real?

She turned her head to the side to see Roger, peacefully asleep. He was so beautiful.

Although all of this felt surreal, a painful thought entered her mind.
Now that she had slept with him, would he want her to leave?
Was she going to be just another notch in his belt?

It didn’t seem like it.
Renée felt like his feelings were real, but how was that possible in the short time they’ve known each other? Was it too early for real feelings?

The pain in her head seemed to become stronger, and she felt a wave of nausea coming over her.
She closed her eyes again, wanting the pain to go away.

The drama from last night was bothering her. She hated it, but Joanne’s words were still in her head.

“He's a player Renée, he'll break your heart one way or another.”

Renée shook her head, trying to forget it. Why would Joanne want to help her? But then again, why would she lie to her? Hadn’t she gotten enough already from Renée’s miserable last school years?

She put her hands over her face, letting out a quiet sigh.
Her mouth was dry, and she wanted to get a pain killer for her head, so she got up as quietly as possible and tip-toed out of the bedroom.

Now where was the bathroom? Renée looked down a slightly darkened hallway with a few other doors. She decided to just go from door to door until she found the right room.

The first room was the kitchen. It was small and plain. The tiles on the walls were dark green, and there was an empty pan placed on the cooker.

It smelled like fried food, which caused Renée to feel even more nauseous, and so she quickly closed the door again.

She opened the next door, but that wasn’t the bathroom either, it was Roger’s living room.

She had to say that it looked quite cosy, and she liked the different colours and patterns all thrown together in one room.

In the centre, there stood a red couch and a dark brown armchair. On the left side of the room, there was a wooden table with three, seemingly old, patterned chairs standing around it.

Renée had already expected of Roger to have this kind of minimalistic apartment, but to her surprise, she didn’t hate it.

With a sigh, she turned around to go back to the door, when suddenly, a phone began to ring.

Renée looked around the room and found a red telephone placed on a small table next to the TV. The sound rung in her ears and her head began throbbing again.

Why was this so loud? And why would someone call this early in the morning? She quickly went out of the room and closed the door, but the sound was still unbearable.

What if Roger would wake up? Renée didn’t know what to think at the moment, but she’d rather like to leave without him noticing it.

Something in her gut told her that maybe what she did wasn’t right. She should’ve taken things slower, but now it was too late for that.

Finally, the sound stopped, but when she was walking towards the next door, it started again. “Ugh, this person has nerves!” thought Renée and turned around again.

She would just pick up and listen to who it was and what they wanted.
With a tad of hesitation, she picked up the receiver and held it against her ear.

Was she supposed to say something first? But before she actually could, the person began talking. “Roger honey? This is Linda,” she said in a sweet voice.

Linda? Who was that? And who gave her permission to call Roger ‘honey’? “I just wanted to say that I’m dying to see you again. Meet me at our spot tonight at ten, okay? Bye.” She said in a sing-song voice before hanging up.
 
Renée couldn’t describe her feelings at that moment.
Roger’s living room began to move around her, and suddenly the mixed patterns and striking colours made her feel sick.

She felt rage. How could she have been so stupid to believe that Roger would change because of her?

Mary was wrong. Who knows how many one-night-stands he’s really had in the past few weeks? Renée was just one of them now, and she let it happen because she was too blind to see the obvious.

But what was even worse than the feeling of anger burning her from inside, was the hurt.

She felt like Roger cared about her. For god’s sake, she trusted him! She let her guard down, and what did she get for that?

Tears welled up in her eyes as she put the receiver back down. Renée bit her bottom lip to stop it from trembling.

Her mind was clouded, and all she wanted was to go home. She ran back to the hallway and opened the bedroom door.

Although her sight was blurred out by the tears, she could see that Roger was still asleep.

She quickly gathered her clothes and put them on while her eyes were looking for her purse. She couldn’t keep herself from turning around one last time to look at him, but finally turned around to go.

“Where are you going?”
Renée stopped dead in her tracks when she heard Roger’s slightly hoarse voice. “Work,” she answered, not being able to think of a better excuse.

“Isn’t it Saturday?” he questioned again.
She still didn’t turn around and acted as if she was looking for something in her bag. “Well, sometimes I work on Saturdays too, you know.”

Roger huffed slightly. “Is everything alright?” he asked, and Renée heard him sitting up in the bed.

Tears were still running down her face, but she managed to choke out a “Yes, I’m perfectly fine. Don’t worry,” and walked out of the room towards the front door.

All she could hear was “Renée, wait!” before she slammed the front door shut and stormed down the stairs.