CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
'SWEETHEART'

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MY JAW ALMOST HIT THE FLOOR AS I LOOKED AT HIM IN NOTHING BUT UTTER DISBELIEF. Was he mad? I asked myself as he smiled at my parents innocently, after telling them straight to their faces a downright lie. Mum and Dad weren't idiots; if anyone could sniff out the truth quicker than anyone it would be them (I would know). So surely to God they weren't actually going to fall for this nonsense - were they?

'Heidi, is this true?' my mother asked me, an unconvinced look in her eye.

As much as it physically pained me to say it, I replied before they got suspicious, 'Uh...yes, yes it's true,' as I could sense the drummer beside me trying hard not to laugh.

'You never once mentioned on the phone that you were seeing someone?' Dad pointed out.

I hesitated, 'W-well that's because we haven't been going out for very long. I thought it'd be a good idea to invite Roger over so we could tell you together, but it looks like he's already beaten me to it,' I gave my 'boyfriend' an angry side glance.

'Well, then,' my mother stared down at us, 'I'm sure we can soon get to know him over dinner. Isn't that right, George?'

'Quite,' my dad drawled, still looking at Roger like he was something stuck to the bottom of his shoe.

'Perfect,' I smiled over-enthusiastically, 'Well, uh, go on through to the kitchen and take a seat, dinner's just about ready. We'll join you in a moment.'

Looking at each other, still unsure about what was going on, my parents went through to the kitchen, leaving me and Roger in the hallway alone. As soon as they were out of sight, I gave the drummer a hard whack in the arm.

'Ow!'

'What the fuck happened to telling them the truth, huh?!' I said through gritted teeth.

'Excuse me, I've just saved your backside yet again, thank you very much.' he defended himself, 'I must say, I think I did a pretty good job, despite being rather put on the spot...'

'Roger, you saw the way they looked at us. It's only a matter of time before they realise we're lying!'

'And? What's wrong with having a little fun before we get caught?' he smirked.

I wasn't impressed.

'Look, I get you're pissed off, alright? But giving them the impression that we're together is going to be way more believable than trying convince them that we're not an item, though we live in the same house. Isn't it?'

I sighed, shaking my head, 'I don't know about this.'

'Just...go along with it. As long as we keep it up, they'll be none the wiser. Okay, sweetheart?'

I won't deny it, I felt awful lying to my parents like this; only because I feared what would happen if they found out we were telling them a load of bullshit. But at the end of the day, Roger had a point. The idea of us being together was much more convincing than the idea of us living together, but not being a couple. It was the best we had, given the situation.

'Alright, fine,' I mumbled, before replying sarcastically with a fake smile plastered upon my face, 'Darling.'

He smiled mischievously, 'That's my girl,' before the two of us headed to the kitchen, ready to endure probably the most awkward couple of hours we'd ever experienced.

* * *

The four of us sat around the kitchen table; my mum and dad on one side, myself and Roger on the other. For a good five minutes, none of us said anything; I'm sure my parents were thinking of what to even say to the complete stranger sitting opposite them, in their house. However, it wasn't long before the silence was broken and the inevitable interrogation began.

'So, do you live locally, Roger?' my mum asked the drummer, holding her knife and fork and eating small morsels of food like she was having dinner at Buckingham Palace.

'Yes...uh, no,' Roger hesitated, 'I mean I do now, I moved to London a few years ago, but I'm from Truro originally.'

Dad raised an eyebrow, 'Truro, eh? Bit of a hike. Any reason you moved all the way across the country?'

'Oh, y'know, uni and stuff.'

'So you're a student?' Mum replied, obviously impressed by this information, 'What is it you study?'

'Well, first it was Dentistry, but I dropped out after a year and did a degree in Biology instead. But the main reason I came here was because I wanted to start a ba--OW!'

Before Roger could continue, I gave his leg a sharp kick underneath the table, stopping him from ruining everything by revealing he was in a band.

Giving me a vicious look, he changed the direction he was going in, '...Banking. I wanted to be in banking.'

I could have facepalmed myself right there and then.

'So you went from Dentistry, to Biology, then to banking?' Mum looked at him, utterly confused.

Roger laughed nervously, 'What can I say - I'm a very indecisive person.'

For the rest of the evening, the drummer tried his hardest to win my parents around. He was very convincing when he wanted to be - nearly every question thrown at him he managed to dodge with an impeccable lie (you would have sworn he was being genuine). So I couldn't believe what I was seeing when the tension was lifted and my parents were chatting away with Roger, no longer as an intruder, but as a actual human being, and going along with everything he was saying.

'I live on the top floor of a mansion flat in Knightsbridge,' Roger told my parents confidently as we sat in the living room, drinks in hand, 'It's a busy place - peace and quiet is pretty much non existent - but I suppose that's a sacrifice you have to make.'

'You're awfully young to be able to afford a a place in that part of London.' Mum stated.

'The job pays well. I'm just fortunate I can have these luxuries, I guess.' Roger shrugged.

'So that Mini sitting outside - that wouldn't happen to belong to you, would it?' my Dad questioned him.

Roger scoffed, 'That old rust bucket? Nah, my driver dropped me off here. I hardly ever get behind the wheel of a car. The way I see it - why drive when you can have someone to do it for you,' the drummer turned to me, 'Isn't that right, darling?

Trying my best not to send him a death glare, I replied with a fake smile, 'Yes, dear, that's right.'

My parents looked at each other approvingly, Roger's 'gleaming' reputation receiving a positive result. Little did they know he was merely a drummer in a band who not too long ago was virtually homeless, with nothing but a couple of quid in his pocket and a knackered old drum kit in the back of his car. I couldn't believe my parents had actually bought the 'rich banker' story. Roger's charm and quick wit had duped them both.

When it was time for my parents to head home, I couldn't have been more relieved. As they walked to the door, I exchanged farewells with them, giving them both an awkward hug. When they reached Roger, my dad shook his hand and said seriously;

'I might not know you very well yet, Mr Taylor, but I need to know this - can I trust you to look after my daughter?'

With a tone of sincerity, Roger replied, 'You can, sir,' as he shook his hand, 'Heidi's safe with me.' a statement which surprised me slightly, the seriousness and the total absence of sarcasm and untruthfulness in his voice making it seem like he actually meant it.

'I'm glad to hear it.' my dad nodded.

After one last goodbye, I waved to my parents as they walked down the garden path and towards their car, before shutting the front door behind me. Turning around to face the smug looking drummer, I said nothing for a couple of seconds, until I asked him:

'Banking? Mansion flat? Really?'

'Hey, they believed me, didn't they? You can't deny it, I fucking sold that story.'

'I shook my head in disbelief, a baffled smile on my face, 'I can't believe they actually fell for that crap, I was sure they'd have clicked eventually.'

'With my lying skills? No chance,' Roger smirked, 'I had them practically eating out of my hand.'

'That's one way of putting it,' I replied, still laughing. I reached up and tapped lightly on his head, 'Looks like you actually do have a brain in there after all, Blondie.'

'You saying I'm thick because I'm blonde?' he caught my hand and frowned.

'Maybe,' I replied, which only made him even moodier. I snorted, 'Oh, come on, Rog, you know I'm only messing with you.'

The drummer looked down at me, still holding my hand, 'Y'know it's a good thing you're pretty, otherwise, I don't think I'd be able to forgive you for the constant insults so quickly.'

I smiled in disbelief, 'You really are a smooth talker, aren't you Rog?'

'What can I say? It comes naturally to me.' he smirked, his alluring eyes glinting in the light that was above us, almost drawing me in.

Clearing my throat awkwardly, I slipped my hand out of his and composed myself, 'I'm gonna go and do the dishes.'

'Oh, sure,' he nodded, as I began to walk away, 'I'm happy to help if you want?'

'It's alright, there's not much to do. But thanks anyway.'

And with the drummer giving me one last small smile, the moment was over as I disappeared through to the kitchen to start the washing up, too embarrassed to even look at Roger and my cheeks burning red after what had almost just happened.

-

Hey guys, long time no see.

I can only apologise profusely for not updating in literally a month and a half. Everyone says that their busy lives are an obstacle to writing at times, and mine most certainly has been. Despite having left school, I now have a full time job, which keeps me very busy and to be honest, wipes me out. I'm going to try and update more frequently again, if I can. For now, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, it's a bit rushed and all over the place but I couldn't go for any longer without uploading something, so here it is. If you did like it, a vote/comment as always would be much appreciated.

Thank you and sorry again!

- Anna :-)