Self-Conscious

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Roger stared at his reflection in the mirror, tears pouring down his face. He was frustrated with the way he looked, thanks to a few comments made by a few other Whos. Everything had to be changed before their show. His shoes and clothes had to go, as did his new hairstyle. He couldn't help but cry. The more he gazed into the reflection of his own eyes, the more he sobbed in shame. He turned back and stared at the furniture in his temporary dressing room, not desiring to look at himself any longer.

    His dressing room was the best out of the four provided for The Who. He had long forgotten the name of the place they were playing, but he knew the venue must've provided him the best dressing room on purpose. He was the lead singer, after all. Maybe they were trying to boost his ego, especially after seeing how comically short he was in person. Maybe Pete was feeling generous and requested for Roger to have the best dressing room.

    No. Pete was hardly ever nice, and taking into account his awful mood during the bus ride to their next show, him being so kind was virtually impossible.

   The others could sense something was off with their lead singer. Though Roger wasn't nearly as loud and chaotic as they were, he was too quiet for their liking. At first, Pete assumed he was being prissy and stuck up, but Keith, of all people, talked some sense into Pete.

    Roger heard them conversing in John's dressing room. It was the first time that had a band meeting without Roger.

    "I think something's wrong with him." Keith's voice was, for the first time ever, soft and quiet. Despite this, Roger could still hear them. The walls were thin, and the doors were thinner.

    "You're right about that."

    Roger could vividly picture the sneer painting the taller guitarist's face. Pete was always so sweet and caring, how could he not keep a steady girlfriend? One could only imagine...

    John was quiet, as usual. Maybe he was concerned enough to listen to what Keith had to say. Roger liked to think that was the case. The more likely option, however, was that John didn't care about their conversation.

    "I'm serious, Pete! Look at the way he's been dressing! It's not mod at all! And his hair! If you wouldn't have called him 'dip' all of those times, maybe he wouldn't look like a bloody jessie right now!"

    Roger's heart sank. Keith thought he looked like a woman? His face flushed with heat as embarrassment flooded his chest. He was right, though, he changed his hair style because of the annoying nickname they gave him. But he didn't expect them to find a problem with his newest fashion and hairdo.

    "Alright. We'll call him something else then," Pete thought for a moment, as told to Roger by the silence emanating from the room. "duchess. We'll start calling him duchess."

    Keith burst into loud laughter. That was characteristic of him, so maybe Roger didn't need to worry about how serious Keith was being with his discussion. But duchess? Roger's face scrunched up in shame and disgust. He preferred Dip. Duchess was nauseating, to say the least. The new nickname felt like several consecutive jabs to his throat.

    "Who knows what he'll wear and do with his hair next," John piped in. "maybe just call him, I don't know, 'Roger'?"

    Thanks, John. It was good to know someone cared about the blond and his ego, even if it was only a little bit.

    "If it bothers him so much, he can tell us to stop," Pete challenged.

    Keith sighed, calming down from his hysterics. "I think we should chat with him! What will our fans think? I don't want to become a laughing stock!"