30 reasons why - Roger Taylor

-REASON TWENTY SIX-

 July 5th, 1971.

"Wouldn't it be weird to have one boob? Then then it's not boobs, it's bob."

He laughed. "W-What?"

You can tell from this moment, Roger Taylor knew this was the girl he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. If he could love everything she said and was from last night and today, he would love her for eight more years.

And of course, this is their first date. He was so excited and nervous for this night because it's been such a long time since he's ever been on a date. I mean, sure, he's dated Jen on and off back in his hometown, but she was nothing like Rosie Spiljak.

Rosie was the complete opposite. Full of laughs and a fire that puts the stars in space to shame. She was this person Roger thought came from the heavens and down to Earth, upon meeting at Jonas' party last night, he was never so grateful.

It was nearly midnight—eleven at night, and here walking on the sidewalks of the heart of the city in Berlin was a Croat and Brit.

"I don't know, but I think it's kind of weird." Rosie rubs her arm awkwardly, looking down at the concrete ground and her way too expensive grey canvas shoes. This is her first date ever, and she truly doesn't want to fuck it up—she kind of likes this Roger guy. "Don't you agree? Like, when you says Jesus backwards, it sounds like sausage."

"I think talking about boobs and Jesus and sausages on a first date is weird."

"Shit, you're right."

He laughs. Oh shit, he is really in love with her. "But then again, this date is weird. We ate pretzels and pizza while watching the puppies play with each other at the adoption center."

"But it was perfect." It really was. "Rog, I think this date is perfect because who else is going to watch puppies at the adoption center while eating pizza and pretzels? No one!"

He's relieved. He spend all of today panicking and asking his Fred and Brian on where to take her out before concluding that they're no good and phoning John who told him, "This is your date, Roger," before abruptly hanging up.

Originally, the plan was a nice dinner at a restaurant. By that time, it was six in the evening, and Roger has never made a fancy dinner reservation ever in his life (which he embarrassingly told Rosie), so he was running out of ideas and time at this point.

But pizza and puppies? "I actually thought of this last minute," he admits, shyly hiding his face into his jacket. "I haven't been on a date since my last girlfriend, and that ended pretty badly."

She blinked. "If it makes you feel better, I haven't been on a date before."

"Oh, uh...that kind of makes me feel special now."

"That you're the first one to make me fall head over heels for?"

He's left with silence at the back of his throat. Him? Her first love? "You're mine too."

Because fuck Jen, no one had ever made Roger Taylor feel this way.

She smiles at him, feeling his hand brush against hers for the umpteenth time. They're both awkward and timid towards each other now, and Rosie—she doesn't want this night to end.

It's the best night in her entire life. Period.

Throughout all of her struggles and every little downfall, it was all worth it if this was her award. She really likes this Roger Taylor guy.