"When the hell is he gonna get here?"

John glanced up at their irritated guitarist, fully understanding his aggravation. Freddie, Brian, and him had been waiting for a half-hour for Roger to show up for practice. John had begun to worry, wondering if he'd stopped to pick up another bottle of alcohol to bring with him to the studio, yet, luckily, he'd been staying away from buying any. They couldn't move on to Play the Game without him because they needed the backing vocals for the track. Freddie let out a vehement sigh as he got up and walked over to the mirror hanging up along the wall. He ran his hand through his shortened hair and muttered something in a low voice.

"What's wrong babe?" Brian asked as he put his guitar down on the stand beside him

"I'm wondering if I should try a new look. I'm getting quite bored of this."

"You just got your hair cut not too long ago! Why change what's working?"

Freddie grinned as John watched Brian wrap his arms around his waist and their eyes met. "I dunno. I've had a few ideas. Maybe a mustache?"

"Hmm, you'll look sexy either way." Brian replied, ruffling his lover's hair.

John glanced away as they shared a gentle kiss as the door swung open, revealing a disheveled Roger. He removed his coat and threw it down onto the floor, not caring where it landed. He flopped down on to the couch next to John. He took notice of his bedraggled appearance for his hair wasn't in order and stuck out in small strands, his eyes were covered by a pair of dark shades, either to block out the light or help him see, and his pants were wrinkled along with his shirt being partly buttoned up. He groaned loudly and buried his face inside the small pillow.

"Roger, what happened?" Freddie asked, voicing his concern for their drummer

"To s-sum it up, three things of vodka and a few shots of whiskey. Maybe a beer or two. I can't remember." He mumbled into the pillow

"Well, should teach you not to drink so much when you know we have to practice." Brian told him

"Yeah yeah." Roger replied, his arms shaking as he tried to push himself into a sitting position.

John reached over to help him, but he pulled away quickly, shooting a deathly glare from behind his glasses. John recoiled and placed his hands back in his pockets as Roger trudged over to his drum-kit.

"Come on, let's p-practice." He said in a quieter voice, "Bloody hell it's bright in here."

"No. Not now at least." Freddie said as he walked over to Roger. "You're too hungover to do anything."

"What'd ya mean? I'm n-Hey!" He shouted as Freddie removed his glasses to reveal tired, bloodshot eyes.

"You're pale as all hell and look like you haven't slept well for a week. Go sleep for a bit, we can practice in a few hours."

"Fred, we gotta finish my song and your's soon. I don't want to..." Brian argued

Freddie flashed him a look full of concern and crossed his arms. Brian rolled his eyes as they watched Roger fall back down onto the couch, quickly shutting his eyes and wrapping his arms around his stomach, letting out a quiet groan. Freddie motioned for them to leave the room, John quickly obliged, along with Brian. John ran his hand along Roger's arm, hoping to give some kind of comfort so he could relax from the night before. He looked more exhausted then usual. They were used to him coming home drunk or coming to the studio with a hangover, but something else was bothering him, something that'd been bothering him ever since Claire broke up with him. They were all greatly worried, but Brian and Freddie could at least get him into the same room with them. Roger was obviously going to be more hostile towards him, and he couldn't argue with the situation, knowing he brought it onto himself. As they sat down in the nearby rooms, Freddie finally voice his concern for their drummer, making him feel relieved he didn't have to.

"This can't keep going on. It's been two weeks and he keeps going out to any bar he can and coming home drunk and ending up like this the next day. It's not healthy."

"Who would've guessed Claire would do this to him." Brian replied

"What I'm not able to get is why he doesn't call her up or go over her house to speak to her if he misses her so much."

John remained quiet, knowing what he hoped was the answer to why he wouldn't call her up. But it doesn't make sense. If he's bi he would've called her up and not looked so sad when he had to go out with her. It'd make more sense if he's gay, but then it doesn't explain why he's acting like this! He chewed the side of his mouth to help keep him from saying anything to the other guys as they continued talking about their drummer. I can't say anything. Just keep quiet, that's what he told you to do.

...

John sat down with a fresh cup of tea as he shut his eyes, letting the warmth of the new spring sun hit his face. After the first few cold months of 1980, it was nice to have a warm day again. It'd been a while since he could relax. The past few days had been extremely tense, especially whenever he saw Roger. He desperately tried to get to talk to him about the night, but he just locked himself up in his room, ignoring everyone. As if he had been summoned, Roger swung open the kitchen door and his eyes were locked on him. John took notice of the grief in his eyes, a drastic change from the usual angry glare he usually had when he saw him. He turned to leave, but not before John could say something.

"Roger please!" He begged

He got up and rushed to the door, quickly grabbing Roger's shirt. "Let go of me." He growled

"Let me say something! Just...Please." He said, his voice trailing off near the end.

He heard Roger mutter something before he released his tight grip on the doorknob. He shook him off of his shirt and glared at him, crossing his arms across his chest and kicking his leg up to relax on the door behind him. He avoided eye-contact by keeping a steady gaze on the floor. Luckily, Freddie and Brian had left for a quick meal only ten minutes ago and wouldn't be back anytime soon, allowing him to not have to whisper.

"L-look, it happened, y-yes, but please stop ignoring me!"

"Why the hell should I trust you? Give me a good damn reason why I should trust you Deacon."

John was taken aback by the bitterness in his voice. He hadn't called him by his last name since he first joined the band, and even then he was the first one to stop calling him by his last name. He felt small tears well up in the corners of his eyes as he looked down.

"R-Roger, c-come on. I-I didn't w-want to hurt you. I-"

"Then you should have thought before you did anything!"

He inhaled deeply and looked up, almost flinching at the deadly gaze Roger held. "We can't ignore i-it though. I-I'd like to say something t-to Freddie and Brian when-"

Roger leaped onto him, seizing the collar of his shirt and pinning him against the wall behind him. He bared his clenched teeth and stared directly into his eyes. Yet, John saw no hint of anger in his eyes. His pupils fully dilated and he felt his hand shake. Fear filled every inch of Roger's body, but he tried to mask it with an ill-shown rage.

"D-don't you s-say one fucking w-word to a-anyone. S-say one Goddamn thing t-to anyone, and I'll..." His voice stopped as tears began welling up in his eyes. He threw him off to the side, making him stagger and reach for the table where he'd been sitting to help keep him up. He slammed the kitchen door behind him, but not leaving quick enough before he heard him let out a quiet cry as he heard his heavy footsteps march back down to his room and the loud slam of his door echo through the flat behind him.

John sat there trembling, a few transparent tears streaming down his face as he shakily tried to stand back up. He ended up falling back down on to the chair behind him, resting his face in his palms and letting out a small sob as the realization sank in that he may have just burned the last tie he had with the love of his life.

...

John settled down in the living room of their flat. He could faintly hear the music from Roger's bedroom, glad to see that he hadn't brought any more alcohol home for the past week. Brian was once again watching some show on the TV set while Freddie had gone to make tea for the three of them. He was hardly paying attention to anything, nor was he thinking about much either. Just letting the relaxation surround him and allowing him to have a clear head for once.

"Here we go darlings." Freddie said as he entered the room

John glanced up and watched as he placed the platter with the three cups on the coffee table. John quickly grabbed his as Freddie joined Brian on the opposing side. He took notice of the faint outline of Freddie's mustache that he said he wanted to grow in. Brian had taken a liking to it, remarking every now and then how much he liked it. Though, it could've simply been to boost his boyfriend's confidence in his new appearance. Either way, Freddie kept up with it. John barely listened to the idle conversation the two were having and kept to his usual silence, simply listening to the program on the TV instead. It was usual for him to do so, and it was how he liked it. However, the couple's conversation caught his ear when he heard something that intrigued him.

"...Should take Roger there."

"Why would he have any interest in going there?" Brian asked

"Get him out of the house, set him up with someone, he seems to have no desire to do it himself again. We can help him." Freddie replied

"Fred, you know why I asked that. You know that's where you always went for a one night stand, either with a guy or a girl."

Freddie flashed a grin, "Well, who knows, Roger's never been open about what he's into." His gaze flashed over to John, "Maybe he's got an interest in guys."

Brian let out a soft laugh, "I think you're wrong on that Fred. Roger isn't one to be secretive."

Yet John froze on the spot. He clutched his cup of tea and downed the rest of it, loudly placing it back on the table beside him. His breathing had sped up, which caught the attention of Freddie. Brian had turned his attention to the TV, ignoring what he had done. John's eyes were wide as he constantly flicked his gaze from the TV to Freddie, who hadn't stopped looking at him. Something sparkled in his eyes for a split second before he went back to his tea, remaining silent the rest of the evening, his cheerful demeanor had been replaced with a solemn one. His gaze never left the TV, though he seemed not to be listening to it, but looking deep in thought.

Leave it John. He's not going to ask. He would've said something by now if he was wondering. Just keep quiet, just ignore it and it'll pass by. Freddie will forget about it by tomorrow.

...
The closing of the front door awoke John from his light sleep as he sat up groggily in his dark bedroom. He opened his eyes, faintly being able to see through the haze of sleep and the street lights that poured into his room through his blinds. He heard a quiet muttering outside his door. With his curiosity getting the better of him, he headed towards the sounds.

He peered his head into the kitchen and saw a hunched over figure and the muttering had turned into a muffled crying. He flicked on the light and saw their drummer with his head in his arm and his hand wrapped around a now empty bottle of beer. He shuffled over to him, not wanting to disturb him yet. His efforts were futile as Roger glanced up with depressed, exhausted eyes. He turned his head, quickly trying to get rid of the tears that had been streaming down his face a mere few seconds ago.

"Roger?" He asked quietly, stepping closer to the older boy.

When Roger didn't move or object to him being there, he took a seat at the table, concern taking over the fear that Roger would blow up in his face again. "What happened?" He asked.

"N-no one's gonna g-give a damn about me." He stuttered out, his words sounding slurred as he did, giving John the indication that he was slightly intoxicated at the moment, explaining why he wasn't as volatile as usual.

"I-I've tried s-so h-hard to find s-someone that'll..." He paused and rested his face on his hand, "N-no one will."

"That'll what?"

Roger let out a small cry as another tear fell from his uncovered eye. John reached out to wipe it off his face, noticing how quickly he tensed up at the gentle touch of his hand. A slight blush creeped up onto his face as he shut his eyes again. John continued to stroke his cheek, not wanting to lose touch with him. God he's miserable. He reached out and removed the beer bottle from his hand, glad to see him not argue.

"I've l-lost.." He began again, biting his lower lip to prevent him from saying whatever it is that he wanted to say. Instead of finishing the sentence, he went back to his erratic sobbing. John trailed his hand down to his shoulder, feeling his tensed upper body relax at it.

"Go on...I'm not gonna stop you."

Roger took in a shaky breath, wiped away the remaining tears that had fallen from his eyes, and looked straight ahead. "I'm d-done." He stated, "I-I can't deal w-with..." He let out a long sigh before resuming, "R-rejection any m-more."

You know full well what you want. Why are you doing this to yourself? John pondered what to say to him to be able to get an answer that would actually let him be able to help him. "Maybe take a break from dating any girls right now and go for something else?" He suggested

But John received the expected, yet unwanted, answer of "No. I'm just done. N-no girl'll go out w-with me after..." He returned to his sobbing as he buried his face in his hands. He'd obviously touched upon something that was a touchy subject for the older boy.

"Why can't...can't it b-be easier?" He asked in a low voice

"Why can't what be easier?"

He shook his head, meaning he hadn't wanted John to have heard that. Oh God Roger John began thinking in desperation that Roger would sayanything that he could use to help him, You're broken... John resisted the urge to pull him into a tight embrace and tell him it'd be alright, that he'd be there when he was ready to come out to everyone else, that they wouldn't hate him or reject him when he did. Yet, all he did was sit there and listen to his crush's forlorn weeping.

"Roger, you know you can say anything to me-"

"You know full well why I d-don't." He snapped

John pulled his hand back as Roger looked like he instantly regretted saying anything. He laid his head down on the table, placing his hands on the back of it. Another sob fell from him as a small shiver ran through his body. John let out a long sigh, knowing that the conversation had ended. He spoke to me..God, he's miserable and sad, but he at least let me talk to him. I know I can do something, if he'd just let me in...He headed for the kitchen door.

"John-"

He turned around and saw Roger looking at him. His big eyes were a light red from the tears with a strong longing shadow simmering in the blue depths. His face was reflecting an intense pain, forcing John to look away.

"Ne-nevermind. I-I." He finished his sentence with a shake of the head and laid it back down onto his hand. John gave a sorrowful look back towards him as he left the room, entering the dark hallway again. Freddie and Brian's room was still closed and he hoped that they didn't hear anything. Despite Roger's reticence to him staying he did take notice of the longing look in his eyes. John realized that he wanted to say so many things to him, yet he didn't say anything. His sobriety had been returning, hence why he snapped at him. He's so close, I know he is. God, if I ever have to see that look of pain on his face again I'll be the one who starts crying.

He climbed back into his bed, faintly hearing Roger's footsteps down the hall and the gentle closing of his door. For the first time in a week, Roger hadn't come home with any new bottle of alcohol. Just the single beer and he wasn't nearly as drunk as he usually was. A good thing. Something that he and John both needed now. If only I knew how to help you...I would. Yet all of this is going to mean nothing to you tomorrow. It'll be another day of you ignoring me and the deathly silence will continue.Despite his pessimistic thoughts, John felt a spark of hope, something he hadn't felt since that night all those weeks ago.