𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕖 - ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕄𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕎𝕒𝕣, ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 - ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 6

His right hand had yellow nicotine stains from years of smoking and calluses on most all of his fingers from playing bass. What had you expected? Soft, warm hands of a model? He had short nails that he had chewed down to the skin because he couldn't stand them messing with the strings of his guitar. It made sense, but still his hands seemed to age him a bit. People say the eyes are a window to the soul, but Roger's hands gave away something that he had never dared to say out loud: his life was a lonely, drug-fueled wreck. You wanted to judge him and tell him to get a grip, but unfortunately you couldn't speak at that moment because his hands were gripped around an all too familiar piece of paper. 

“Now I have no proof that this has anything to do with me, at least not yet, but based on your reaction, I’m assuming this was something I wasn’t supposed to find?” Roger hummed. His eyes were lit up with a sick excitement as he watched you shift uncomfortably. 

“Wow, a piece of trash. I didn't know you were the trashman now.” You huffed, pretending to be unimpressed despite the heartbeat that was slamming against your ribs.

“Where’s the rest of it?” He was already pushing his way into your hotel room before you could protest.

“Roger, this is my room! Get out!” You did your best to block him from getting any further than the doorway.

“Oh, but don’t you remember how you let yourself into my room? I guess privacy is something the rest of us don't deserve.” His hands were already in your bag and around your notebook before you could stop him.

“ROGER!” Your voice was pleading, almost like a child hiding things from its parents. 

“What’s the matter, Ms. Mason? Am I not supposed to read this? Is there something you're hiding from me? Something you're planning?” He opened the notebook and flipped through the pages that were just notes about your trip, equations you had scribbled down in college, and a few tickets you had glued onto the thin notebook paper. He hardly looked at those entries; the page he was most interested in, he knew, was in shreds at the bottom of your bag.

“Roger, if you don't stop, I'll tell Nick.” Roger looked up and smiled as he leaned against the wall. 

“He won’t do a thing, sweetheart. I’m not hurting you, and besides, your brother wouldn’t risk his job in the band for some whiny little girl.” He was right, unfortunately. Nick had it made as the drummer of Pink Floyd, and with Syd gone, Roger was slowly becoming the unofficial leader of the band. If he was in here attacking you, then Nick would be upset, but if you ran to him complaining that Roger was going through your stuff, he wouldn't care. Nick was closer to Roger anyway; it was as if they were siblings and you were the outsider.

“Kiss me.” Roger said as he knelt down by your bag and pulled out the paper scraps.

“What?” You hissed.

“Kiss me, prove that you're just some weird little attention whore, and this war will be over with. It's just your ego that's making you act out like this.” You stared at him in shock as he laid the torn-up page on the hotel bed and pieced them together.

"THIS MEANS WAR, ROGER," the page said, though it was all crumpled and dirty. Step 1: ruin his night. Step 2, make him cry. Step 3, kiss him.” You stared down at the page and then shook your head with embarrassment. 

“Fuck you, Roger.” You tried to snatch the papers off the bed, but he just grabbed your wrist.

“It says right here you want to kiss me, though it does also say you want to make me cry, which isn't happening, but I appreciate the effort so much I'll let you have one kiss.” Struggling, you pulled your wrist away and backed away from him. 

“I won't force you to, but either way you lose.” He said softly. You heard his words, and you assumed his tone was meant to soothe you and keep you from telling anyone that he was bothering you, but you were torn by the loud thoughts screaming in your ears. On one hand, you could kiss him and get it over with and admit that you did this to get his attention like some obsessed fan, but on the other hand, if you didn't kiss him, that would be you admitting defeat, and you weren't sure which one was more embarrassing. 

–

Roger fell back onto the grass in a fit of laughter as a rush of light and color consumed him. There was no way to describe the way the drugs made him feel or the places they pulled him to. He felt like he was dying but at the same time as though he was melting with the flow of energy that was all around him. The colors of the field were just light traveling on wavelengths that could lift him off the ground and set him on fire so that he too became one with the light and, furthermore, one with the energy of all existence. It was a heavenly feeling until he began to feel a strange sense of dread. Where had he come from? Where was the god that was supposed to carry him to the afterlife now? Where were the angels and joy, and more importantly, where were his answers? The answers to the universe and all of the torment that it allowed for the sake of the greater good. Where was the being of almighty justice and morality that was supposed to be there to reunite him with his father?

Roger lay there in silence, not just silence on the outside, but silence in his head where the voice of his conscience usually was. He felt paralyzed as he lay on the grass, too afraid to look around without the guidance of his soul. He was blind without the voice that told him to look around and question the world before him, so instead he lay completely still as his mind looked down on him from above. 

“Roger,” it whispered, but not in a sweet way like a mother waking her child from a dream, but like a demon calling to him from the void. “Roger, you have to get up…. You have to go home and hide….you know you're just a coward with a rotting brain.” Roger sat up and looked around; the cold sweat on his face made him want to claw at his skin and pull his organs out just to rinse them off. 

“Roger…… You know you sit at home when you can and let the worms eat you from the inside out…. It’s just a metaphor today… but tomorrow they’ll have your bones licked clean.” Just when it felt like the tension would pull his soul all the way up through the atmosphere, he came crashing back down to reality. Or was what the voice had whispered his reality? 

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1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

3 CHAPTER 3

4 CHAPTER 4

5 CHAPTER 5 

6 YOU ARE HERE

My first digital art drawing in almost a year. Please accept my offering tlb fandom

𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝔸𝕚𝕣 - 𝔻𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕕 𝔾𝕚𝕝𝕞𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 2

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Blue fabric and blond curls brushing against once youthful pounds of flesh. Once painless joints dance and fingers intertwinedas laughter erupts from the lungs of the two lovers. Crashed hotel rooms and half-burnt cigarettes combine with the smell of coffee cups that had been forgotten the moment that clothes had been tossed aside on the floor and short words of affection were exchanged. These memories are only fleeting in David’s mind as he grew older. He could see girls he had once loved flash before his eyes like static on a TV, only a few images were clear and once they were enjoyed they vanished back again into that special hell for unremarkable thoughts. Dirty thoughts, lustful ones that could drag him to that same hell with them if he didn’t shake them from his mind. But no matter how hard he tried he felt this overwhelming sense of distraction every time he saw her. Or rather every time he saw the tiny picture of that mysterious girl on her tiny plastic license. Her had every inch of her silhouette engraved into his mind but all he had to look at was that picture. It was grainy and the lighting was atrocious but he kept it safely in his pocket in case he saw her again, or in case he just felt like resting his eyes in something pretty.

Y/N couldn’t be more stressed. Not only had she been humiliated by some married asshole, but she had also embarrassed herself in front of a hot guy in the bathroom at the party last night, and to add to everything else, she had lost her driver's license. Technically she hadn’t needed it last night since she had gotten a taxi to take her to the party last night and then drive her home because she had assumed she’d be coming home drunk, but instead, she came home brokenhearted and without a very important little ID. At least she had come home alone. That had been the goal, right? Don’t hook up and get hurt but rather show the world that you can be a strong independent woman. She really showed all of those men working for various record labels, didn’t she?

It had been almost a week since David had seen her at the party that was set up for music producers to mingle with up-and-coming artists and discuss contracts as well as find members of successful bands who could mentor these young musicians. It hadn’t been the most eventful party but it had weighed heavily on David’s mind and the more he thought about her the worse the obsession became until finally, David decided that maybe this mysterious girl, whoever she was, probably needed her ID back asap. But how would he find her? He’d never seen her before and she seemed so nervous he doubted that she’d show back up at another party like that. Maybe he could ask around? But who would he ask? And how would he describe her? “Oh you know this really cute girl with the pretty hair and the pretty eyes and the great figure and shy personality?” Like that would make any sense to anyone but him. When he had first laid eyes on her he had wondered what he wanted from her. Sex? Company? Did he want to have her as just some hot girl to carry around and show off to executives? That was probably it knowing him, but now that she was gone he needed to find her to return her ID and this was David’s one chance to do something that might make her notice him. Then hopefully he would know her as an acquaintance at most. But deep down, maybe between his legs, he got the feeling that he wanted way more from her.

Y/N had dabbled in music since she was in elementary school when she had been pressured into playing the cello by her parents and despite hating it throughout middle school she was talented. It wasn’t until she began playing along with rock songs on her cello that she realized that the instrument was cool and something that she grew to enjoy. She loved playing covers of songs from bands like The Beatles, Creedence Clearwater Revival and Pink Floyd. Oh, how she adored Pink Floyd. She loved the album Animals since she was also a fan of the book Animal Farm and she had seen the movie for the Wall a couple of hundred times. She enjoyed the lyrics and music that had such depth to them that she could never duplicate. And then the band members were an obsession in and of itself. Her favorite members were probably Nick, Syd and David, god David was hot. Y/N wasn’t exactly in her youthful years anymore but she was pretty sure that all of the Pink Floyd members were old and wrinkly by now. Wait a minute, the older man that she has seen at the party, could he have been…the David Gilmour? He certainly had David’s gorgeous lips and eyes. But no, there was no way she could have been that lucky. She quickly jumped up and went to her computer to see what David looked like these days. *Click click* there he was, staring back at her from the other side of a screen, the David Gilmour, the same man that she had met in the bathroom doorway at a party.

David didn’t think that the girl he had been interested in, okay obsessed, had recognized him as a member of Pink Floyd. She did look a bit younger than him and maybe people her age just weren’t interested in classic rock the way they once were when he had joined the band. But even if she had recognized him she hadn’t said anything that had indicated she knew who he was. The reason he was falling down this thought process was because he had hoped that if she did recognize him she would be at the concert tonight so he could give her the ID that she had dropped at the party. Pink Floyd was currently on tour for their new album “The Division Bell” and if David had any hope of returning the license before he went far out of town to tour, she needed to be there. Maybe in passing, he should have introduced himself as a rock legend but he didn’t, seemed a bit egotistical at the time, but now it felt like a missed opportunity to meet up again. David wiped the sweat from his forehead and walked on stage. His heart sank when he looked out into the crowd but what was he expecting? For her to be on the front row screaming for his attention? Would he have climbed down off the stage and placed the card that had kept them connected for the past few weeks into her palm and gently closed her fingers around the piece of plastic so that she would never lose it again? But then he would lose her.

Tickets were so expensive but it was so worth it. Y/N pressed the rewind button on her CD player and listened intently as the opening piano notes played for “High Hopes” the 11th track on Pink Floyd’s new album “The Division Bell”. She had listened to the album over and over dancing to it, singing along and daydreaming about David. She had purchased tickets to the closest concert and was excitedly choosing what to wear. So what if her biggest goal in life was to stop hooking up with men she barely knew and developing feelings, if she came home with David Gilmour then that was better than accomplishing her goals.

David’s voice rippled through the crowd as instruments crashed and hummed all around him, flying past his ears and into the crowd who screamed for more. But his now watering eyes weren’t focused on the crowd but rather on the girl who stood just a few rows back from the stage. Her hair flew in the wind and her smile beamed up at him as he sang. It had to be her.

Y/N sighed and pressed rewind again in her CD player. Track two pounding the words “What do you want from me” along to the beat of her pounding migraine. It was too early to be waking up and getting all dressed up for another day. She stumbled to the bathroom and sat down on the cold porcelain toilet. The year was 2003 and Y/N was well past her youth. About ten years ago she still had the energy to go out, party and pick up men. She still had the strength to scream along at concerts and sneak backstage just as she had done at the concert where she had officially met the man of her dreams. It hadn’t been the first time they had seen each other, no the first time she had seen him was in the bathroom doorway of a smoke-filled room, but at that concert when their eyes had met and he had flashed a little white card at her, she knew he was the one and that she would never need to worry about being heartbroken again.

David waved the little card for just a second and winked at the girl. When he saw her blush and look down, he knew, he’d never have to put his love on the air again.

𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕖 - ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 1

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Standing in front of the apartment building you let out a dramatic sigh. Carrying all of your stuff up the stairs all morning because the elevator was broken had proved to be quite stressful.

Your friend David had asked you to move in his apartment with him and two of his band mates since they were all quite broke and splitting the rent four ways would be cheaper on everyone. David had been a good friend of yours for years now, and you really needed a cheap place to live. You hadn’t met David’s band mates so all you knew about them were that their names were Roger, Nick and Rick but Rick wouldn’t be living with you.

“Roger’s a bit of an arse.” David explained.  “But Nick is easy to get along with so you don’t have to worry about him.”

You sighed again and picked up the heavy box you had been carrying through the parking lot. It had a variety of things that you thought would be necessary to bring.

“Ugh!” The box tumbled from your hands and fell to the asphalt.

“Let me help you with that!” A man with dark brown hair and a mustache to match ran over to where you had dropped your box.

“That’s quite a heavy box for just one person to be carrying.” He flashed you a cute smile and helped you pick up the box.

“I’m Nick by the way, Nick Mason.”

“Oh are you David’s band mate by any chance?” You remembered David saying that one of the guys you would be living with was named Nick.

“That’s right, you must be Y/N.” David was right, Nick was very friendly. The two of you carefully hauled the big box up the stairs to your apartment.

“It’s sort of a suite if you know what I mean. A living room and kitchen that connects with two bedrooms that have their own bathroom and two beds.” Nick tried his best to explain. “Well I guess I could just show you.” He took out a key and unlocked the door.

The apartment was exactly like what Nick had described. It was a bit sad looking but at least it came with a microwave and a small fridge. David and Roger had already arrived and started to unpack their stuff. They had chosen the room on the left side of the living room.

“Guess we’re sharing a room then.” Nick laughed awkwardly.

“That’s alright, David said Roger wasn’t all that friendly.” You said under your breath only loud enough for Nick to hear. Nick grinned and slid the box into your new room. It too was just as empty as the living room. There were two beds on either side of the room and a small bathroom.

“I call the bed near the window!” Nick said and flopped down on the bare mattress. You rolled your eyes and scooted the box near your bed. Opening it up you pulled out some blankets and sheets to put on the bed.

“Hey Y/N.” David said. He leaned in the doorway and watched you struggle to find the edges of the sheets.

“Hey David.” You turned to look at him. Behind him was a tall man with a rather interesting face.

“This is Roger, and I’m assuming you’ve already met Nick.”

“Yeah, he helped me carry some stuff in.” Nick smiled proudly to himself.

“Well I’m going to go get the rest of my stuff. I guess you can introduce yourself to these two.” You looked between Roger and Nick. They seemed alright, although Roger was a bit scary looking.

“So you guys are in a band.” You tried to make conversation.

“That’s right, it’s called Pink Floyd.” Roger informed you.

“David hadn’t told me a whole lot about you guys if I’m being honest.”

“Well he sort of uh…replaced our former lead singer, Syd.” Nick said.

“He was having a lot of issues with drug abuse and we were having a hard time working with him.”

“No hard feelings though.” Nick quickly added.

“Anyway, like David said I’m Roger the bassist. I also sing sometimes.” Roger struck you as a bit arrogant but you had expected that.

“I play the drums.” Nick said but he didn’t seem all that full of himself.

“Do you play any instruments Y/N?” Nick asked you. Roger had wandered off back to his room to unpack.

“I play piano but not much else.”

“Maybe I could teach you how to play the drums sometime.” You thought about it a moment.

“Maybe.” You giggled.

Nick had brought a suitcase but not much else. He had also packed a small box that he shoved under the bed.

“What’s that? If you don’t mind me asking.” Nick blushed a little and pulled the box out from under the bed.

“It’s um…..my hot wheels collection.” He opened the box to reveal a large collection of hot wheels.

“That’s so cool!” You plopped down on the floor next to him and looked at all of the cars.

“I use to love hot wheels cars.” You said excitedly.

“Really!?” Nick had the biggest smile on his face.

“Yeah, but I lost them all. You know moving around and all.”

“Well Ive been collecting them for years. It’s just embarrassing to have toys at my age don’t you think?”

“No not at all.” You gave him a reassuring smile.

“I think we’re going to be very good friends Y/N.”

After you and Nick had put all of the toy cars back, David burst in.

“Let’s go out and do something!” He exclaimed.

“Like what?” Nick asked.

“Let’s go see the new Monty Python movie!” Roger yelled from across the living room.

You all excitedly climbed into David’s car and drove to the theater. David and Roger were in the front and you and Nick sat in the back.

“Should we pick up Rick?” Nick asked.

“Nahhh.” Roger said.

So poor Rick didn’t get to go.

Meanwhile Nick admired the night sky through the car window. And you found yourself admiring Nick. He had the cutest nose and his hair looked so soft in the moonlight.

Wait! Why were you looking at Nick like that!? You had just met him. But…he was really cute you had to admit. Not to mention that he had been so sweet to you today. You thought back to what he had said earlier, “I think we’re going to be very good friends Y/N.” Right, just friends.

𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕖 - ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 3

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You stood there in the dark, on the side of the interstate and drunk no less. You watched as Roger sped away into the night.

“What should we do?” You asked the equally lost and drunk Nick.

“Our best bet would probably be to hitchhike home.” You nodded and clung to his arm. This was not a good situation, you could get run over or worse yet, get kidnapped. At least you would be with Nick.

Nick walked to the edge of the road and stuck out his thumb. After a while a truck driver pulled over. The driver was a large man who looked like he didn’t shower often. Nick gave him one of his award winning smiles.

”We’re hoping to get a ride to the next exit.” Nick said to the driver. He grunted and pointed to the sleeping area of the truck.

“You and your wife can sit back there. But no funny business!” Nick glanced at you but didn’t correct the man.

”Alright, we really appreciate it.” Nick helped you into the truck and you both sat down. It smelled rancid in the truck and you couldn’t help but feel bad for the little hula dancing girl on the dashboard.

The next exit wasn’t far off but you and Nick couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. What started as a playful kiss on the cheek quickly turned more heated and the next thing you knew both you and Nick were being thrown out of yet another vehicle.

“Well that went south quick.” Nick began to laugh.

”It’s not funny!” You scolded but you were laughing too.

”I’m gonna kill Roger when we get home!” You both went to the edge of the road again and got another vehicle to pull over. This time it was a small grey car with an old man and an old woman.

”We were hoping you could take us to the Serene Meadows apartment complex.” You cringed at the name. It sounded like a retirement home.

“Oh Darrel,” the old woman nearly cried,” we have to help this nice couple!” Darrel raised a very bushy eyebrow at the two of you.

”The’re probably a bunch of crackhead hippies Martha.” Well he wasn’t exactly wrong but you still gave Martha a hopeful glance.

“We were once young and in love Derral.” The old woman reminded her husband.

“Alright. Get in the fucking car. But no funny business!” You and Nick eagerly climbed into the backseat of the car, making sure to leave room for Jesus this time.

The car smelled better. A little like cats and cigarette smoke but that was to be expected.

The old man drove you to the apartment complex and you and Nick scrambled out before he could ask for any money. Both of you were now sober, awake and ready to gorge out Rogers eyes. You unlocked the door and found Roger drunk on the couch.

“Roger! YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I WANT TO HURT YOU RIGHT NOW!” You yelled at him. Roger just rolled his eyes.

”I told the both of you not to be making out in the car. It’s your own fault you got stranded on the interstate.” Roger said without ever looking at you. He just sat on the sad little couch and wrote in his black book of poems.

“Both of you are just bricks in the wall.” He mumbled.

”What?” You asked but Roger got up and went to his room.

”He’s full of it.” Nick whispered in you ear. Now come on we’ve had an eventful night and I think it’s time we go to bed.” You both took turns using the shower and you brushed your teeth together.

”Goodnight.” Nick said and kissed your forehead. He had insisted on tucking you in so that the blankets were wrapped tightly around you. “Just like my mum used to do it.” He had said.

”Goodnight Nick.”

You tried your best to sleep but you were woken up by the sound of thunder. You hated thunder because it made you feel vulnerable and well scared. Quickly untangling yourself from the blankets, you rushed to Nicks bed.

“Nick wake up!” You shook him a little.

”Wha-?” Nick groaned and rubbed his eyes. “What’s wrong Y/N?” You looked down at your feet in shame.

”I-I’m scarred of thunder and I was hoping I could sleep with you in your bed.” Way to go Y/N, now he thinks you’re some helpless child.

”Sure you can.” Nick said you your surprise. You grinned and got under the blankets with him.

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕄𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕎𝕒𝕣, ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 - ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 3

Roger hardly called you by your name; he avoided referring to you in conversation at all if he could. Your name was like a drop of poison on the tip of a snake's forked tongue. He’d call you Miss Mason when you were being bitchy, and he'd call you Missy when he teased you, but never would he choke up your first name. He only called girls by their first name when he knew he didn't have to remember it any longer than a few days because, in his mind, you only name a dog to tell it what to do. If he met a girl and her name was Helen, he’d call her Helen because that was what got her to act right, to obey him until the fever of lust had broken. Getting too attached to a name and putting it to a pretty face would make him attach that face to a body, and then that body had to have a mind that would want dopamine and commitment and all sorts of other pure things that would burn a devil like him. He didn’t want to love any woman, and to him you weren't a woman; you were just a girl, old enough to be an adult, of course, but calling you a girl was another cemented block in the wall he had built between you and him. He liked it that way, his back to the cold metaphorical wall where he didn't have to acknowledge your maturity or your name or anything to do with your individuality. You were just another brick in the wall of his life, even if your brick was starting to crack.

As he lay on the white sheets of the dark hotel room he could have been angry if he weren’t so drunk and tired. He could have been frustrated with the way his jeans felt strained and the way his face burned with shame, knowing he could ease his discomfort on his own, but then he'd be alone with just his thoughts as usual. 

“Roger…. I just needed to use the phone; I didn't mean to interrupt.” Your weak voice drifted out into the room, but Roger couldn't bring himself to acknowledge that he had heard you or that he had heard the other two apologies you had already offered as you stood in the doorway. He felt his body tense slightly at the childish way you walked over to the bed and sat down on the corner. You were like a hurt dog with your tail between your legs. And that was a perfect example of why Roger refused to call you by your name. You were like that stupid dog Old Yeller. That little boy in the movie had guarded his heart against some mangy dog that he didn't even want at first, and then after a while he began to love the stupid thing, just to have to look into its eyes as he shot it. You were like that in a way, as awful as it may be to compare you to a dog in a western that Roger had seen in the 60s. Still, you followed him around like a puppy, and he shoved you away because he knew if he let himself get too close, he would have to look into your eyes when he inevitably hurt you. 

“Sweet Madame Blue, Gaze at your looking glass. You're not a child anymore, Sweet Madame Blue. The future is all but past.” Roger sang under his breath the next morning; his skull felt like it was full of hot coals that were burning the back of his eyeballs, but he couldn't look miserable now and let you see the toll the night had taken on him. Despite refusing to call you by your actual name, Roger liked to sing “Sweet Madame Blue” by Styx to mess with you and he'd call you “sweet blue” when the other boys weren't around. It was a bit ironic, a British man singing about the dying light of American and blind patriotism, but you knew Roger liked to sing it and tease you with the nickname as a very round about way of calling you a whore. 

“Got your bicentennial panties this morning, sweet blue?” He asked as he drank a cup of coffee in the hotel lobby. You rolled your eyes; you had felt so horrible last night about ruining his rendezvous with the girl he had picked up from the bar, but if anyone was a whore here, it was him. 

“Roger, what does that even mean?” You groaned as you made your own cup of coffee. 

“It means you're a nice young girl with a free and independent spirit who is being corrupted by the various indulgent greeds of society. Or, in simpler terms so you can understand, it means you're a slut.” 

“You used to be creative with your insults, Roger; what happened?” You shake your head with mock disappointment. Roger tried to hide his smirk as he brought the porcelain cup to his lips. 

“You're only mad because you know it's true.” He retorted, and without thinking, you protested with a remark about the girl he had brought to the hotel last night.

“Well, why the fuck were you in my room?” He asked coolly after a long moment of silence.

“I needed to use the phone.” You mumbled as the other band members began to file into the lobby with you. Roger just glared at you, your wide eyes reminding him of that damn rabid dog. If you had known what was good for you, then you wouldn't be messing with him; you wouldn’t be waging this silly “war.” You were a kid with toy soldiers, and Roger was a tyrannical warlord with psychological weapons of mass destruction you couldn't even fathom yet. He had brushed you off as a stupid girl, but now Roger was starting to think of his own ways of getting revenge.

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1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

3 YOU ARE HERE

4 CHAPTER 4

5 CHAPTER 5 

6 CHAPTER 6

𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥, 𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕎𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖 - ℝ𝕠𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕆𝕣𝕫𝕒𝕓𝕒𝕝 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 2

TW!: child death / miscarriage / blood

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Blood. The sheets are covered in blood and so are my legs but I can’t get up. I’m in a strangers bed, five months pregnant and there’s a pool of blood around me. All I had done was agreed to let Roland take me home and sleep in a warm apartment for the first time in days and now my baby was gone. Was it because I betrayed Steven? Is this what I deserved? How would Roland, a man I barely knew and trusted on a whim, react to finding my bloody body lying next to him? I knew I should cry for my now dead child but instead all I could think about was the ruined sheets. I must be in shock but those damn sheets…he would have to burn them and I would have to buy him new ones and I barely had enough money to eat.

Roland began to stir on the other side of the bed and I forced myself to sit up and fall out of the bed. The falling part was an accident but what did it matter? Baby was dead and I deserved to be in pain.

“SALEM WHAT HAPPENED?!” Roland yelled in horror when he discovered the pool of blood next to him. At that point I was gone, so fucking gone.

“I-I’m so sorry Roland, I’ll buy you new sheets. I’ll clean it up and then leave. I’m so so so sorry.” Sorry, that’s all I could say, overs and over again. The sheets. I felt so bad about the sheets. And I felt like such and idiot for messing them up. And the mattress was probably ruined by now too. I would have to buy him another mattress which would be far more expensive than the sheets.

Roland jumped up and instantly wrapped his arms around me trying to get me to calm down and explain what happened.

“I-I think I had a miscarriage.” It was the first time I had said that vile word out load since I had woken up and dipped my fingers into my daughters blood.

“I’m so sorry Roland I feel like this is just some awful nightmare. I’m so sorry about the bed.” I again turned to see the messy sheets.

“Don’t you dare apologize. I don’t care about these sheets. This isn’t your fault. I’m here with you every step of the way.” Roland hugged me in a way that felt so genuine. A sort of warm hug I had never felt but had dreamed of since I was a young girl.

Roland had introduced himself and sat down beside me in the library. I felt so nervous being next to such a pretty man that I almost forgot to tell him my name.

“Oh I’m Salem.” I giggled nervously.

“Come here often Salem?” Roland rested his hand on his cheek and smiled at me. His deep brown eyes seemed to shine with the reflection of myself staring back at him. I felt so unattractive and yet I wanted him so bad. I had always jumped into the arms of any man that would have me and that’s probably how I ended up pregnant and homeless. But then as I began to talk to Roland I noticed a faint blush beginning to get redder on his cheeks. He was wearing the cutest sweater with a scarf and a long overcoat that made him look like a cute little schoolboy.

I explained most of my situation to him and the crazy thing was, he actually sat and listened to every word of it. He didn’t interrupt or tell me I got what I deserved, he just sat and nodded and occasionally gave me words of encouragement.

After several hours of rambling on about my miserable childhood, my poor taste in men and my current state of having no where to stay, Roland suggested that I stay at least one night in his apartment since he “couldn’t bare the thought of letting a young girl in your condition sleep on the street again tonight.” He promised that he had no ill intentions and I felt that his eyes seemed to reflect his honesty. So I walked with him, arms full of books, to my car where he drove me to his apartment. The whole night was spent laughing and eating a tray of left over lasagna that Roland had made. Never once had he tried to touch me or even so much as kiss me. He just hugged me cautiously goodnight as I climbed in his bed next to him.

That was when I was happy. But now I sat on his bedroom floor crying hysterically.

“I-I’m sorry Roland I barely know you and I just…I don’t know what to do” I sobbed. He gently placed his hand on my shoulder and brushed some hair away from my face.

“Please don’t apologize. We’re going to get through this together.” I looked down at my stomach and felt like vomiting. My thoughts were starting to become clearer and my mind turned its attention away from the bloody sheets I had been desperately grasping on to and now to the thoughts of the little baby I had lost. For months now I had been dreaming of holding her for the first time and playing with her as she happily waved her little fingers in the air.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” I whisper softly. “Just let it out. Let all the sadness and pain come out. Cry as much as you need to.” His words seemed to mix together with the loud voices in my head screaming at me.

“I’m going to take you to the doctor okay.” He said and gently picked me up. I was a mess, blood stained clothes and legs that felt disgusting. I felt like a murderer. I did this to my daughter and anyway she deserved better.

The doctor only told me what I already knew and so I spent the car ride back to Roland’s apartment feeling numb. I should call Steven, the voices in my head kept whispering. He deserves to know that his daughter is dead. But did he even care? I had likely lost the baby due to stress and lack of nourishment. Maybe if Steven hadn’t kicked me out I wouldn’t have been stressed or starving. Maybe if I had been with a better man I wouldn’t have been in this situation.

Roland stopped at the library so I could call Steven. After a few rings he picked up.

“Hello?” He said in that rough voice that had once given me butterflies.

“Steven? It’s me Salem.” I chocked back a sob.

“Didnt I tell you to never speak to me or show your face her again you fucking whore.” I couldn’t hold back, I let out a strangled sob as Steven continued to list all of the reasons as to why I was the problem and how I ruined his life.

“Steven….I had a miscarriage.” I said despite the fact that he was still talking. He couldn’t hit me here. The distance and the fact that Roland was sitting in his car waiting for me made me feel safe.

“Good riddance to you and that kid, would’ve turned out just as ugly and probably twice the slut you are.” He then slammed the phone down on the receiver and the line went silent.

It was over. Steven had made it clear that he didn’t want me. And now I was not only single I was also no longer pregnant. I slowly walked back to Roland’s car and tried not to start crying.

“You okay?” He asked cautiously.

“N-no”, I wiped away the tears that were forming, “he doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I hate to say it Salem, but isn’t that a good thing? You can start over now.” I looked at him and he weakly smiled back at me.

“I guess.” I whispered.

“Tell you what”, Roland said in his deep English accent, “me and you could be roommates and I’ll help you find a job.” I knew he was trying to help me and that I couldn’t just sit around and pity myself all day so I agreed.

As he drove out of the parking lot I whispered, “I was going to name her Mia.”

OCCULTSTARR MASTERLIST

·:༺ ♱✮♱ ༻:·

ℙ𝕀ℕ𝕂 𝔽𝕃𝕆𝕐𝔻

★ Divine - Nick Mason x reader

⌞ Nick Mason is the cute drummer of Pink Floyd. Unfortunately, the whole band is bankrupt, so Nick, David, and Roger move into an apartment with David’s friend. ⌝

1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

3 CHAPTER 3

4 CHAPTER 4

5 CHAPTER 5

★ Love on the Air - David Gilmour x reader

⌞David was looking for love / Like the very first time /Didn't realize love never left him. ⌝

1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

★ Take It Back - David Gilmour x Reader

⌞He’s lied to her, he’s spied on her, and made promises he couldn’t keep. But then she finally breaks, and David isn’t sure where to go from here, but through the uncertainty, he always knew deep down that she’d take it back someday. ⌝

1 ONESHOT

★ This Means War, Roger - Roger Waters x Reader

⌞“You love me.” You teased. You hadn’t really meant anything by it but as soon as you said it you blushed. Roger glanced at you and shook his head. “What’s it like being a delusional bitch?” Roger asked just loud enough for you to hear him. You glared at him. That was the relationship between you and Roger, arch enemies from the moment you laid eyes on each other. But what if secretly Roger finds himself falling in love with you even if he says he hates you?⌝

1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

3 CHAPTER 3

4 CHAPTER 4

5 CHAPTER 5 

6 CHAPTER 6

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ℚ𝕌𝔼𝔼ℕ

★ Don't Take Me for Granted - Roger Taylor x reader

⌞S*x with Roger is so.... boring? It's just that you've come to expect it almost nightly, and that's not any fun, or that's what you thought a month ago, now you'd do anything for him to touch you. ⌝

1 ONESHOT - NSFW!

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𝕋𝔼𝔸ℝ𝕊 𝔽𝕆ℝ 𝔽𝔼𝔸ℝ𝕊

★ Just, Just Wasting Time - Roland Orzabal x Reader

⌞Salem Morove is in need of a knight in shining armor or perhaps an English boy destined to become a star? Either way, she’s desperate to get out of an abusive relationship and finally find her soulmate even in the midst of loss and chaos. ⌝

1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

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𝕄𝔼𝔾𝔸𝔻𝔼𝕋ℍ

★ Had Enough of Me Yet? - Dave Mustaine

1 ONESHOT - NSFW!