Roger closed the door behind him as he got home from Melbury Road. He coughed and removed his shoes, leaving them near a chest of drawers in the entry. He also removed his leather jacket that he threw on a chair before going to the living room. He looked all around, but Violet was not here.

“Violet? I'm home!”

He heard a sudden noise in the bedroom. Fearing that something might happen to Violet, he rushed into it, and simple saw Violet sitting on the bed, beside his closed suitcase. She was crossing her arms and her legs, as if she was furious about something.

“At last! I almost had to wait for you!”

“I told you I had something to do.”

“Was it chasing after Brian?”

Roger's eyes widened. Her grey eyes were intensely staring at him, with fear and jealousy in them.

“What? I told you we broke up!”

“Yeah, but you don't just forget after all this time, don't you? That's why you ran to his house and kissed him, am I right? Or maybe you didn't only kiss?”

“Violet, what's wrong with you? I told you that I left Brian!”

“Where were you then?!”

She frowned to him and finally saw the plastic bag he was carrying under his arm.

“What's that?”

“Indeed, I was at Brian's house, but he wasn't here, Freddie took him out for a walk. There was only John, and that's better. I just went back there to take back my collection of cars.”

“When will you stop lying to me, Roger?”

“I'm not lying!”

He took the bag and opened it. He unwrapped every car that he placed on her knees after that, he crashed the bags in his hands, showing they were empty. Violet sighed and took the cars she threw behind her on the bed. Roger gasped and ran to the bed, petting his car.

“Don't throw them like that! What's wrong with you?!”

Right before him, a golden frame containing a picture of Brian and him was laying on the bed. Next to it, a simple picture of Brian smiling. He allowed himself to smile a bit so Violet would not notice. He remembered this picture very well. It was their second anniversary. Brian woke him up with a present in his hand, stroking his blond hair with the other. “Good morning my love” he whispered in his ear, “d'you know what day it is?” Roger smiled at him and wrapped his arms around him, kissing him passionately. Brian rubbed his back and showed him the present. But Roger was quicker than him and grabbed a small envelope under the bed with a grin. Brian opened Roger's envelope first: it contained a tiny note on which was written “Look into your wardrobe.” Brian stood up and hesitantly opened his wardrobe. He found there a gorgeous silver acoustic guitar, without a hole in the middle. It had silver wings on the top if the body with a lot of small holes, looking like bubbles. Brian's jaw dropped and he hugger Roger so tight that the latter thought he was going to break his spine. After that, they sat on the bed again and Roger unwrapped Brian's present. It was a brand new camera. Roger immediately knew how he wanted to inaugurate it. He jumped out of the bed, and Brian looked at him quizzically. “I know!” Roger said with a smile. He stood up on the bed, pointing the camera at Brian, who lifted up his chin and smiled tenderly. Roger clicked on the button and the picture was taken.

Roger felt like his throat wanted to scream. He swallowed his saliva and looked at Violet.

“Where did you find these?”

“It was in your suitcase, Roger.”

“Why did you look into my suitcase?”

“I know I have no excuse for that. I feared that you would not come back home after you went out. You still love him don't you? Otherwise you wouldn't have taken those with you!”

Roger looked at her with tenderness in his eyes. When they were dating before he left her for Brian, she already was a jealous and easily scared girl. But he knew she was not mean or anything. She was just afraid of loss. When she loved someone, she tended to hold on to him or her. Everybody who witnessed her jealousy – that sometimes could be a bit unhealthy – thought she was only a selfish girl who wanted everybody at her feet. That was Freddie's thoughts about her. Violet was, for Roger, misunderstood.

Violet stood up and angrily picked up the frame and the picture, shaking them in front of her now crying eyes.

“Tell me the truth, now, Roger! Do you still love Brian? If you do, don't stay here, and go back to him! He surely needs you more than I do!”

“Violet, Violet... I don't love Bri anymore. That's why I left. Those pictures were in my wardrobe, I put them between some clothes to protect them when one day people came to our home and there were children. And I must have forgotten them.”

“How can I be sure you don't want to go back to him?”

Roger stepped forwards and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to him. He leant over her and tenderly kissed her, stroking her cheek with his hand. When he broke off the embrace, he took the frame and the picture from her hands.

“Now, I'll show you that I don't care anymore.”

He spun round and violently threw the frame against the wall. It shattered on the floor, spreading small pieces of glass around it. Violet was amazed. Yet, Roger did not tear up the picture.

“But I'm not going to tear this. Tomorrow, in the morning, I'll go to Melbury Road again and I'll just sneak it in the mail box. It's Brian after all, he should own this picture. Don't worry about him. It's over.”

Violet nodded and smiled through her tears. Roger dried her eyes and kissed her passionately, removing her clothes step by step. She undressed him too before letting her fall backwards on the bed. Roger kicked his suitcase that heavily fell on the floor. Yet, he carefully took his cars and placed them in order on Violet's desk. She smiled at him and sensuously scratched his chest. A cunning grin appeared on his face, as he imitated a lion roaring, before jumping over her, biting her neck and kissing it wildly. She slithered under the sheets and soon was joined by Roger.

“Are you sure you're going to be alright?”

John had placed his hands on Brian's shoulders, looking at him worriedly. Brian nodded with a weak smile. Freddie was standing beside John.

“I'll come tomorrow just to check if everything's alright, darling. Is it okay for you?” the singer asked with a smile.

“Yeah, but you know, you don't have to.”

“Just in case. I want to make sure you're alright. If something ever happened to you, I wouldn't forgive myself.”

“I won't commit suicide, if that's what you're thinking about.”

Brian's sudden answer shocked Freddie. That was totally what he was thinking about. He knew Brian was sensitive enough to do such a terrible thing. They all hugged and finally, Freddie and John went out, waving at their friend. Brian waved back with a smile and closed the door. For the first time since Roger left, he was on his own. He put a hand over his heart. Never could he thank them enough for all the things they did to cheer him up. He took a deep breath and stepped in the house. He looked all around him and had a lump in his throat. He used to love the atmosphere in the house, its decoration, its smell, its everything. But now Roger was gone, and so was this love of this place. If he wanted to feel better there, he had to change something. An idea sprouted in his mind. He grabbed his keys, put on shoes, took his velvet jacket and jumped out of the house. He did not even take the trouble to take his car and leave. He walked up to Kensington High Street and walked along it until he reached the tube station. People looked at him quizzically, though some did not. He could hear a group of teenagers whispering his name. He went out of the tube at Notting Hill Gate and changed for the line going to Shepherd's Bush. When he arrived there, he got out of the station and went to the nearest hardware shop. He bought four heavy tins of paint and then went to a decoration shop. He bought a few things and took the tube for Kensington Olympia. As Kensington Olympia was less far from Melbury Road than High Street Kensington, he stopped there and walked to his house, trying not to make anything fall.He got into the house and immediately started to work. He pulled the furnitures and gathered them in the middle of the living room. He took the whole pile of newspapers that was lying around next to the couch and spread every page on the floor. After that, he opened the tins of paint and grabbed the paint roller he had just bought. Then, for the rest of the day, he painted all the walls of the ground floor. He put down the roller and proudly looked at his work. He was on his way to a brand new life. The dark blue walls had disappeared under an Opera Mauve colour. Brian did not care about the name of the colour, it was only the one printed on the tins; after all, it was a purple shade. He went upstairs and took a very long, warm shower before turning it cold. He washed his curly hair on which a few drops of paint had splashed. He went out of the bathtub, wrapping himself in a towel, sighing. He was thinking about the walls upstairs. No, those did not need to be repainted. Maybe he just had to change a few things. He put on clean clothes and ran down the stairs. The sales assistant was right, the paint dried quickly. He did not even need to apply a second layer. He removed all the newspaper sheets and pushed the furnitures against the walls.Yet, he did not arrange them the same way they did with Roger. The room was a totally different one. He opened the bags of the decoration shop where he bought many things. He arranged his chest of drawers like he did, but he had to add other things on Roger's. He had to forget their life. Everything had to change, and by changing the house, it was a step forward. He put coloured cushions on the couches after he applied sofa covers on them. He took a photo album out of the book shelf and picked some of the pictures he loved the most. As he bought new frames, he slipped the photographs into the frames and arranged them on Roger's former chest of drawers. Old family pictures were now decorating the room. There was a picture of his mother, Ruth, and him on the beach, when Brian was four or five years old. Another one was showing his father and him building a guitar. And then, there was a picture of his parents at their wedding. He smiled when he looked at the pictures. “I miss you, mum, dad. Maybe I should call you tomorrow.”

The night had fallen. After a whole day of having sex with Violet, Roger was sitting on the bed with a lit cigarette between his fingers. He was sweating. The back of his head was resting on the headboard. He blew the smoke and looked at Violet who had just fallen asleep. After this lively day, she was completely exhausted and nothing could prevent her from sleeping. Roger stuck his cigarette between his lips and inhaled the smoke. His eyes moved to the edge of the bedroom. Though the lights were off, he could perfectly distinguish the shape of the frame he had thrown against the wall. He crashed his cigarette in the ashtray and pushed the sheets. He stood up and walked up to the broken frame. He knelt down and accidentally cut his knees on the broken glass. Yet, he did not move out from it, even though he knew it could be dangerous. He carefully picked up the frame and removed the glass that remained on it. The moonlight was enough for him to see the picture. His eyes filled with tears. He did not even tried to refrain from crying. He pressed the broken frame against his heart, sobbing silently. He put it on the side and gathered all the glass in his hands and tried to put it back in place. He could not leave the picture without any protection. He took the frame with him and silently walked up to the kitchen. He took a glass that he broke. Fortunately, Violet did not hear anything, as her sleep was deep. He crashed the pieces of glass and threw them in the trash. He remembered that Violet was an artist and had a workshop. He had to pretend that he threw the frame away. He took pieces of wood that were lying around in Violet's workshop and put them in the trash too. Luckily, it looked like it really was the frame. He went back to the room and got dressed. He took the picture of Brian with him and sneaked out of the flat, tears rolling down his cheeks, running outside in the cold night.