ℍ𝕒𝕕 𝔼𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕠𝕗 𝕄𝕖 𝕐𝕖𝕥? - 𝔻𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕄𝕦𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕖

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕄𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕎𝕒𝕣, ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 - ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 2

Roger had a bit of an odd fantasy. Over and over again, he’d imagine a young girl walking on the side of the road, her thumb held high in the air as sunbeams beat down on her skin as she hoped someone would stop and save her from the long walk in the summer heat. And he'd be the devil dressed as the good Samaritan who would pull over in his shiny red car with the top down and his arm resting on the back of the passenger seat. It excited him to think he could be there to save a girl like that, and in her desperation, she'd love him. 

Good looks didn't get him girls, nor did a good personality, so he had to resort to the demented schemes in his head. Some would say that made him an asshole, and others would call what he did manipulation. But to Roger, he was just the hero who could pick up a girl and revel in her weakness, and when he got bored, he could take her to the next town and leave her for the next helpless girl he found hitchhiking. But it was only a fantasy; in reality, he was usually shut in his house, with days passing between the words he spoke out loud. Sometimes he'd practice speaking to himself, but he'd always get shy even though he knew no one was around. “Hi, I'm Roger.” He said it in his most charming voice, but then he quickly looked around in embarrassment as though he expected someone to hear him. The truth was that Roger was the insane drug addict that everyone hated. He wasn't the cool guy who could pick up pretty girls, and he wasn't the handsome and wild rockstar he had imagined he could be. He was just Roger, who was always fighting some inner demon rather than taming it and using that festering spite to his advantage. 

If anyone had known about Roger's inner thoughts or, heaven forbid, his deepest secrets, they might be curious to know what Roger's idea of a perfect girl was. Could he put a face to the girl he imagined picking up on the side of the road? He’d only ever closed his eyes and pictured her from behind. Maybe the way she always had her back to him in his mind somehow represented vulnerability. And she was always a younger woman, definitely shorter than him, but that wasn't hard to accomplish. He always pictured her body getting into his car but never her face, and when she lay in bed next to him, he could just feel the way her bare legs brushed against his but not the way her cheeks felt in his hands. It didn't matter anyway; whoever the girl was meant to be, she was disposable to the debonair star that Roger felt he was within his soul, and as he stood in the dark bar, he stared at the back of a woman who could fit his fantasy. She had long blond hair, and she had to have been a foot shorter than him. He took another swig of the vodka he had been cradling all night. It was getting hot, and he hated the way its usual burn was making him uncomfortable rather than relaxing him. He had to go talk to that girl, get her back to the band's hotel, and then tomorrow he could get back on the bus with a horrible hangover while being another notch on that girl's vanity if he was lucky.

One, maybe ten more gulps of alcohol later, Roger slid the bottle against the wooden table and stared at the clear liquid that clung to the bottom of the glass. It was as if that little bit of vodka was avoiding being consumed by Roger, as if his lips were something deadly from which there was no return. Was that what girls thought of him? Was that why no sweet girl ever skipped his way, ready to pour out all of her love and devotion freely? 

Shut the fuck up, Roger.

He stood up and walked over to the blond woman. He couldn't remember her face; he was way too drunk, but she had followed him to the hotel, and she had been there giggling as he fumbled with the lock on his room door. He didn't really feel excited about having her next to him, but fuck, was he mad when he opened the door to see Nick's sister lying on the small couch in his hotel room. She had the cord of the room phone woven around her fingers as she spoke softly into the receiver. God, he could have punched her. She annoyed him enough on the bus, but to have her in his room when he was trying to dive headfirst into some mindless sexual escapade made him want to slap her. 

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” He asked almost calmly. The girl from the bar had stopped her relentless giggling and was now awkwardly fidgeting with her purse. “S-sorry, I'll hic leave now.” The blonde mumbled as she turned to leave. Roger felt the urge to grab the woman's wrist and plead with her to stay, pleading with her to make him feel like the man he imagined he could be in his daydreams. But he just watched as she opened the door and walked away into the night, her back turned to him before he could even get a glimpse of her face.

You sat up fully on the couch and stared up at Roger. He looked defeated, which was the goal, right? It was step number one in your big plan to win the war against Roger. “Ruin his night” had been scrawled across the top of your notebook in angry black ink that smeared and bled on the old pages. It felt so good to write it, but now as you watch Roger walk to the bed and fall over onto the taut white sheets, it makes your chest burn with tension and a guilty feeling that reminds you of a small child getting in trouble. He didn't look comfortable or even endearingly sleepy on the bed; he just looked cold and out of place in the stuffy hotel room. 

You sit the phone back down on the coffee table and stand up slowly as you debate apologizing to the empty lump of a man in the other room. You had expected him to yell at you and call you all sorts of names, but he didn't; instead, he just lay there silently, which somehow echoed louder in your ears than any of his yelling would have.

The clock on the wall ticks loudly in the dimly lit room, half a wall separating you from Roger's unmoving body for what feels like forever. Had you been standing in the doorway for five minutes? Ten? Maybe a hundred years for all you knew. The words “I’m sorry” were stuck in your throat as you watched his chest slowly rise and fall. He was alive at least, drunk and probably angry with the sexual frustration you had dried up just by sitting in the same room as him. You had only gone in there to make a phone call because the line in your room was messed up, but you had succeeded in the first stage of your plan nevertheless, despite it being an accident.

“Roger….” You whispered as you stepped closer. He didn't make a sound, so you reached out a shaky hand to his shoulder. “Roger, I'm sorry, okay?” He still did not stir; you almost felt like kissing his forehead and just getting this whole “war” over with, but there was still one more step in between that you couldn't skip, otherwise you wouldn't be winning the war, you would just be surrendering, and what did it matter if you planned on making Roger cry? He was just an asshole loser anyway, right?

⫘READ MORE⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

1 CHAPTER 1

2 YOU ARE HERE

3 CHAPTER 3

4 CHAPTER 4

5 CHAPTER 5 

6 CHAPTER 6

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

John Deacon!

𝔻𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕖 - ℕ𝕚𝕔𝕜 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 5

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So as it turns out groceries are expensive and the Floyd have bottomless pits for stomachs. Of course Roger chose ingredients to make more than one meal and David added a few miscellaneous things such as cereal and bread but when the idea of an oyster dinner came up all three of them got excited.

“Oysters and beer!” Nick cheered as Roger pushed the cart to the seafood section.

“Seriously after this we’ve got to check out otherwise we won't have enough for rent. And DON'T think that I'm paying for all of this myself!” Roger snapped. For once he was right, you had at least $300 in groceries for the four of you but it wasn’t going to be cheap to keep three grown men fed.

“How about these, they are close to the expiration date but that means that they are cheaper and if we eat them tonight we might not die from food poisoning.” David said, holding up a package of oysters. Roger nodded and David balanced the package on the pile of cans and boxes.

Moving carefully to the registers, you and David pulled out checkbooks and totaled up how much you would each need to pay to split the cost.

“So I have the most in my account so I’ll write the check but each of you will have to write me checks to pay me back.” The cashier gives you the total of $350 and you pay as the boys carry the bags.

“You each owe me $87.50.” You grumble.

“Right, right we'll get it to you when we get home.” Roger says and puts the bags into the small trunk.

“So do you guys not hang out with Rick or…?” The question breaks the silence on the ride home. Roger is sitting in the backseat with you again with his coochie out in the breeze. It was funny that he was so insistent on “stopping the funny business” between you and Nick, yet here he was with his legs spread further than you had ever seen any man spread. You knew he was just doing it to annoy you, but what if…what if he was jealous?! It was a dumb thought but maybe he was in love with Nick!!

“He doesn't contribute anything to the band so I kicked him out.” Roger said simply.

“Oh, well do you at least go see him? I mean wouldn’t it have been easier to let him move in with you guys instead of a girl?” I notice David and Nick tense up from the front seat. Clearly I struck a nerve but what could possibly be so bad about Rick that would make them all upset?

“Rick is………a FREAK.” Roger says looking out the window a bit uncomfortably.

“Huh? Like he's a weird guy?” I try to make eye contact with Roger but he's avoiding looking at me.

“Oh you stupid, naive child.” Roger shudders and finally looks me in the eye. “Rick is a bit like you in the sense that he enjoys funny business a bit too much. And considering that I kicked him out of the band I doubt we’re on good terms anyway.” I nod along to what Roger is saying despite the uneasy feeling it gives me as if at any moment I could be banished like Rick. It was probably in my best interest to get on Roger's good side, if he even had one, so that I can continue living with them.

“Roger, it's not a big deal what Rick does. I mean we all like women and he was our keyboardist after all.” David says from the driver's seat.

“Well he's not here and it's my band.” Roger huffs. He takes a cigarette out of his pocket and rolls the window down. You sit in silence wanting to talk to Nick but everyone seems on edge and you don't want to get kicked out of another car.

It was difficult carrying the groceries upstairs to the apartment but with two trips between the four of you all of the bags finally made it to the little kitchen where you all began to unpack the food you got. Roger carefully stacked things into the freezer while you and Nick sorted the food that needed to go to the fridge and the pantry, giving the pantry food to David to put away.

“Hey Y/N, I’ll write to you to check real quick.” David says, pulling out a pen and his checkbook.

“$87.50 right?” He asks. You nod and he writes it out and gives it to you.

“Here's mine too. We’ve gotta get some cash so that we don't waste checks.” Roger says handing the thin check paper to you.

“Right, well I’ll cash them in the morning.” You grab your new mouse doll and go to your room to put the papers in your lockbox.

“Hey…….I've only got $70 in my account.” Nick's soft voice says from his side of the room.

“Oh um, well when are you getting paid?” He looks away like he's embarrassed and holds his little checkbook in his lap pathetically.

“Being a musician and all, I'm not sure. Hopefully we’ll have a lot of money when we finish the album.” You stand near your bed awkwardly. You needed the money back for rent but you knew that money was tight for all of you so it wouldn't be fair to get upset with him.

“I could pay you some other way.” Nick smirks. Suddenly the mouse plushie comes hurling towards his head.

“Hey!” He pouts as it bounces off his brown curls. “I’m serious Y/N I dont have any money. I guess….I guess i'll get it somehow okay. Just please give me a few days and when I’m rich I’ll buy you anything you want I promise. He stands up from the bed and wraps his arms around your waist. “I meant what I said about being your boyfriend though I’d like to be more someday.”

I smile despite being annoyed about our finances. “That would be just divine.”

𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥, 𝕁𝕦𝕤𝕥 𝕎𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖 - ℝ𝕠𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕆𝕣𝕫𝕒𝕓𝕒𝕝 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 1

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I leaned into the car mirror and tried my best to reapply the smudged eyeliner under my already tired brown eyes. I still had half an hour before I had to be at work and no where to go. My current boyfriend, Steven, had kicked me out of the house for the fourth time this month leaving me with nothing but my car and whatever was already lying around in my backseat.

I put the cap back in the eyeliner and leaned back in the seat, sighing heavily to myself. I was a cashier at a gas station and was barely making enough money to support myself much less my good for nothing boyfriend. Oh he liked to pretend that he was married to me and had some sort of control over me, and for the most part that was true, but I refused to marry him if all he was going to do was sit around the apartment all day and abuse me verbally. He used to hit me but ever since I got pregnant that had stoped. Still, he would make remarks about my changing body and how I would be unattractive after I gave birth to “baby”. That’s what I was calling it for now. I knew it was going to be a girl but I still refers to her simply as “baby” because I didn’t want to think about how in just a few months I would have to raise a child in an abusive home. My heart hurt everyday for this little girl inside me who would have to suffer just like I did and it was all my fault.

I rubbed my hands over my face and looked at the time, 3:50pm. It was still ten minutes too early to clock in so I decided to eat a bag of chips and try to not think about all of the chaos that was going on in my life.

After finishing the chips I threw on a large jacket and climbed out of the car and walked into the store. My job was another thing that I hated. The boss was an asshole and barely paid me enough to get by. Today I only worked from 4 to 8 with just one other person there. It was incredibly dangerous for a pregnant woman and a teenage girl to run a gas station alone at night but the boss didn’t care.

I put my apron on and pulled out a stool for me to sit down since it was hard for me to stand all day.

“Salem, I need to speak with you.” The boss called from his office that was behind the counter. I groaned to myself and got up to go see what drama he was going to start today.

“I’m sorry but I won’t be needing you to come in but two days a week 4 to 8 as usual.” He said coldly.

“WHAT???” I almost screamed. “I’m barely making a hundred dollars a week and you know I have a kid on the way. How am I supposed to survive?!” I was starting to turn red from anger.

The boss just shook his head. “There’s nothing I can do, we’ve been slow in the evenings and I just don’t need you here.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “I fucking quit.” I said and took off the apron. Steven would be furious when he found out but I needed to get a better job anyway.

“I’ll be here next week to pick up my check.” I turned around before the boss could say anything and left the store. It felt like such a relief to finally be out of that situation but I still couldn’t help but worry about where I was going to find more work to support Stevens lazy ass as well as baby who would be here in less than 4 months. I needed help and I needed to get away from Steven but the baby made it harder then ever to even consider leaving him. Baby needed a father in her life as well as a mother who wasn’t constantly being abused and I knew I couldn’t give her that but I also couldn’t give up on her.

My cars headlights hit the poorly lit library parking lot as I pulled up to the sidewalk and turned the car off. I locked the doors and climbed into the backseat to lie down. My phone was dead and I was almost out of gas. It was far less than ideal for a pregnant woman to be sleeping alone in her car in a parking lot but I didn’t have anything better to be doing.

As I laid there in the cold, dark car I began to cry. I hadn’t cried in a long time and all of the pain had been building up for so long. I couldn’t do this, I couldn’t put my daughter through this. I believed in soulmates and yet I still chose to be with a man that I knew wasn’t meant for me. But how could things ever get better? I could run away, I could abandon my daughter but I wouldn’t deserve love after that. Surely there was someone out there who was meant to be with me like a piece in a puzzle made specifically to fit with another. Were they just as miserable as me right now? Could we ever find each other?

The next morning I woke up to find that I had cried myself to sleep in the freezing backseat of my car. I needed to get gas and find somewhere that I could stay and be safer then I was on the street. The only problem was that I only had a $20 bill on me and nothing else.

I started the car and drove the a gas station with the cheapest gas and got $10 worth of gas so that I would still have $10 for food. Not eating wasn’t an option since I was pregnant so I had to force myself to find enough food to keep baby healthy.

After I got gas and bought a few cheap salads and drinks I decided that the safest place for me to go was the now open library. At least there I could read and not be harassed as much as I could be just wandering around on the streets. The library itself was a large castle like building that had a pay phone and plenty of places to sit down or use the bathroom if I needed to. Normally I would stay there until it was close to time for me to go to work but today I had hours and hours to kill here.

There was a cute little sitting area that was in the children’s section that I spent most days reading horror novels or whatever the newest romance book was out in the front lobby. I was a huge sucker for romances and all of the cliches that filled pages and pages of the books that I picked up. I hadn’t been much of a reader until I had become for the most part homeless but sitting in the library made me want to drown out my sorrows in some sappy romance or ever the wildest psychological horror novel. I also found myself staring at the play area and imagining my daughter playing there. It would be so much harder when she was born. I wouldn’t be able to survive on just a few dollars a day and I certainly couldn’t let Steven hurt her. It was all too much to handle and I didn’t want to think about it anymore, I just wished the problem could somehow solve itself. But it was so much more complicated than that.

Wandering through the shelves of the romance section I traced my finger along the spines of each book before pulling one out. Much to my surprise I found myself staring into the eyes of the most gorgeous man I had ever seen. He had the prettiest lips and curly black hair that I could only dream of running my fingers through. He looked just as startled as I was and so we stood there a moment, staring into one another’s eyes and thinking of what to say or do next.

“I-I’m sorry miss.” The man whispered in the deepest accent that drove me crazy. I didn’t really feel bad for being attracted to him since Steven was barely even my boyfriend and he hadn’t so much as touched me in an affectionate way since I got pregnant. It hadn’t occurred to me, but I had been craving the attention or hell, even the love of another human being. Sure I loved baby and had her with me but I wanted someone that would hold me and listen to me cry, someone who could understand all of the chaos and make me feel better. Ever since my mom had lost custody of me at just four years old I had been in and out of foster homes, running away just to get drug back and abused until I finally aged out and found myself on the street with barely any money or place to go. It was scary and I was broken and I think that’s why I jumped at the first opportunity to get in a relationship with a man I had met at a homeless shelter. He was clearly on drugs and could get violent at times but at first he was kind to me and I would spend my days daydreaming about a life where I was happily married to this man. But then when I had finally saved up enough money to get and apartment he began to get violent with me. He hit me and shamed me day in and day out but then he would be loving and hold me as I cried. He would make me believe that I was just being dramatic about the abuse and that this is how all couples fought. I was too naïve to know any better and when I found out that I was going to have a baby, our baby, I realized that I couldn’t do this anymore. But here stood a man with kind eyes and a gorgeous face and I couldn’t help but want to be loved by him.

“It’s fine.” I smiled and tried not to think about how awful I must have looked.

“I see you’re into romance novels?” He asked shyly.

“Yeah it’s kinda cheesy I guess but I love reading about two people falling in love and being happy together no matter what.” I was starting to ramble and decided to shut up before I scared him off.

“I like them too,” he laughed softly,”want to sit at a table with me and we can talk about them?” I nodded and walked to a nearby table while the man walked around the shelf towards me.

“Oh woah.” He softly whispered when he saw my stomach.

“Im sorry I had no idea you were…you know….uhhh.” He was starting to tense up.

“Oh no it’s fine. Yes I’m pregnant but my boyfriend kicked me out a few days ago so I guess the relationship is over.” I looked down at my stomach and blushed. It was suddenly embarrassing to admit that I was in such an awful situation. The man didn’t say anything he just sat down next to me and smiled sympathetically.

“That’s terrible that a young girl like you should have to suffer because of some asshole like him. Anyone who would throw a pregnant girl out on the street is pure evil.” He must have noticed the tears that were beginning to roll down my cheeks because he carefully brushed his hand under my eyes, moving the tears from my face.

“I’m Roland by the way.”

𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕄𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕎𝕒𝕣, ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 - ℝ𝕠𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

CHAPTER 5

Life is an ebb and flow of frustration and pleasure, or at least according to Sigmund Freud. Now Freud was an absolute FREAK, a creep, a weirdo, and a man with an Oedipus complex, but his theories on psychosexual development through childhood were the closest thing Roger had to understanding what went wrong in his formative years. According to the theory, conflicts arise in childhood that require the release of sexual energy, though the term “sexual” is used loosely to describe anything pleasurable. Roger sometimes wondered where in the five stages he had fallen short and why that had been. He felt that he knew that he should naturally be attracted to a woman or at least another person who would be an outlet for the frustration he felt, but he never seemed to be able to fully release that frustration in full. It was almost as if he were too aware, too conscious of his own existence and being, to experience pleasure. He seemed to be reaching the same nihilistic conclusions about love and sex as when he thought about religion. It meant nothing; relationships as a whole were distractions that he didn't buy into because only fools buy pleasure. Had he stopped developing at the phallic stage? It was likely, considering he was raised by his mother. He didn't feel an attraction for her, of course, but it was likely he had developed a bit of his own Oedipus complex, even if it had formed into seeking a mother figure in every girlfriend he’d had. Maybe he hadn’t developed to the genital stage where he would have found attraction to women outside of his mother, and that was why he couldn't seem to find a partner to, in a crude and almost primitive way, release the tension that had been building in him since childhood. 

Roger sat in his living room with his little black leather notebook and a pen, using it to carve the lyrics to his new poem into the pages. It wasn't quite a song yet, but maybe with a few simple chords and another verse, it could be something special. Right now, it was just a few thoughts he had scribbled down late at night when his inner turmoil had gotten too loud to sleep. 

"Mother, do you think they'll drop the bomb? / Mother, do you think they'll like this song? Mother, do you think they'll try to break my balls?"

Roger rubbed his eyes and stared down at the words that seemed to be swimming in his state of exhaustion. The last word looked especially untrustworthy, like a snake that might slither right off the page and out into the world to whisper Roger's deepest secrets into the ears of the people he feared would hear it most. That line would be the serpent in the Garden of Eden that would tell the world the truth and emasculate Roger before his peers. But on the page it stayed, and onto some album it would go as a polished song where everyone would giggle about the word “balls,” and no one would put the pieces together to realize the insecurity Roger felt in his psychosexual development.

-

Your head was starting to hurt from thinking about your brother's friend. Even just saying that made you want to snap out of your growing obsession and just enjoy the trip. Who fucking cared if some English bassist shed a tear or kissed a girl? They did that all the time, and no one lived or died because of it. Rogers' tears weren't the fountain of youth, and his lips weren't the pearly gates, and you could almost bet his dick wasn't the holy grail, so why couldn't you just let it go? 

David sat across from you on the bus next to his wife, Ginger. God, she was gorgeous; her blond curly hair looked like a halo around her sweet cherub face. The two had only married a year prior, but they seemed so happy and far more mature than Roger. You let your mind wander to thoughts of giving up on your stupid crush; he had nothing to offer you, you could be just as successful as he was, and you could find a man who was far sweeter than he could ever hope to be. 

You reached into your bag and pulled out the notebook you had written your “plans” on, carefully ripping the page out and tearing it into four smaller pieces. You weren't going to throw it away here where Roger could find it, so you placed the pieces back into your bag to hopefully be forgotten about. Fuck Roger and this immature hatred between the two of you.

–

If Roger had stayed married to Judy, he would have had a beautiful woman to sit next to him on the bus as it sped to their next destination. He could have had intellectual talks with her about the economy and the weather and all of the other stupid things he used to say to her to sound smart and well-rounded, but in reality, there was so much left unsaid between the two. Still, she was a pretty woman he could wrap his arm around proudly. Unfortunately, those days were gone, and now Roger had to sit next to you since his other bandmates all had wives occupying the other seats on the bus. He didn't want to admit it, but he looked forward to it in a way. He liked it when the bus tilted a bit and he'd have no choice but to lean his thigh closer to yours, or when you'd get up and have to squeeze past him when you wanted to get off the bus and he didn't. Of course, he'd pretend to be unnecessarily annoyed by this and let out some exasperated sigh with a comment about you not being able to fit between the back of the seat and his legs. He also LOVED to manspread just to bother you. 

“Get your leg off of me, Roger; you don't have to air out your balls next to me.” You groaned.

“What? Can't handle the smell of a real man?” He smiled and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I never doubted you were a ‘real man,’ but if not, then congrats on your transition.” You softly pushed his thigh away. He almost couldn't respond to your teasing as he relished the way your hand grabbed his leg. You were shorter than him, but because he was 6’3”, most girls were shorter than him. Still, he liked how he towered over you even as he sat next to you. If he wanted to, he could trap you in the seat next to him just by refusing to move his legs. It was a weird thought, probably made weirder by the age gap, but it was almost as if he enjoyed seeing weakness in someone else for a change.

“Move, Roger; this is probably the last time we’re stopping to pee.” You huffed as you pushed on his thigh a little harder. 

“Whatever.” Roger muttered as he moved his legs to let you pass. It was fun teasing you, but it was annoying that you didn't just sit by the walkway if you were always going to be getting up. 

He watched you walk off the bus and out of sight before he grabbed his bag and sat in the seat by the window so that when you came back, there wouldn't be another argument about you being stuck. The sound of fabric shifting against the floor made him look down to see that your bag had been pushed further under the seat. “Shit.” Roger mumbled to himself as he reached for the bag, knowing that when you came back, you'd whine about not being able to reach it. Roger leaned down and reached his hand under the seat, grabbing the bag by its open pouch and pulling it toward him. However, when he finally had it pulled to the bus floor between his feet, he noticed that a small piece of notebook paper had fallen out. He rolled his eyes, thinking you were just keeping trash in your bag, but as he picked the shredded page up, he noticed the words that were written on the back.

“This means… Step 1. Ruin his…” It was just the start of two sentences, so Roger had no idea what the first one was meant to say, but the second one caught his attention. Was it supposed to say ruin his…night? It was almost word for word what he would have hypothetically written in his diary if it hadn't been at home under his drawer; only he would have said “Ruin her night” as part of his plan to get revenge on you. 

Looking down at the scrap paper, he smirked and put it in his bag before sitting yours under the seat next to him as if nothing had happened.

—

Needless to say, you were pissed when you got back to the bus to find Roger sitting in your seat.

“Would you rather sit in my lap, sweet blue?” He whispered so the other boys couldn't hear him. 

“Roger, you’ve got me fucked up, stressed out, and pissed off.” You whispered back as you collapsed onto the seat beside him.

“Aww, you’re just all sorts of discombobulated, aren’t you? I could help with that if you'd like some parts rearranged.” As the words left his mouth, so did his soul.

“Uh, s-shut up.” You shook your head and turned to Ginger to strike up a conversation that would get your mind off your current bus buddy.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Roger thought over and over until the short syllable of the word bled together and made him question the structure of the letters completely. Messed up a platonic relationship with your best friend's younger sister? Just put a good old S-H together and hammer the nail in the coffin with an I-T. 

“What conditioner do you use, Ginger?” Your hair is like a cloud.” You gushed to the left of Roger. Look at you, making friends while he sat here looking stupid as usual. You had been successful in ruining his night if that was your plan, but fuck it, he was going to make you cry and then be there to kiss the tears off your cheeks if it meant he could finally solidify your place as just an annoying little girl who could never dream of being with him.

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1 CHAPTER 1

2 CHAPTER 2

3 CHAPTER 3

4 CHAPTER 4

5 YOU ARE HERE

6 CHAPTER 6

I had a dream that the members of Korn were donating clothes but in order to get them they made people fight in a mosh pit, and Johnathan Davis got really mad at me for being too aggressive and beating people up (you would be too for some free Tripp pants).

Just a silly Bill and Ted headcannon because I love transmasc Bill. I think he started doing the over the top voice to help his voice sound more masculine and Ted started doing it too so people would think that’s just how they both talked.