"Damn it, Roger!" You groaned, grabbing his arm, pulling him along with you.
"What?" He chuckled innocently, still drinking his alcohol as you were pulling him out of the club.
You groaned, turning around and grabbing his drink out of his hand and plopped it down on an empty table next to you as you left the club.
"What? Why are we leaving?" He asked very drunkenly.
"Because, " you put harshly, dragging him out of the bar. You pushed the door open, your face expression fuming.
"Because? Because why?" He pouted, as you opened the car door for him, glaring at him so he'd get into the passenger side.
"Just get in," you commanded, as he shrugged, slipping into the car.
You went to the driver's side and opened the door, getting into the car.
"(Y/N)," Roger said calmly, turning his head to you. "Why are we leaving?"
You bit your lip, looking down at your lap. You didn't want to recall what you saw Roger doing but at that time you knew it was time for you to leave.
You looked up from your lap and returned the gaze of your boyfriend. His face was no longer entertainingly drunk, but now his expression had softened into more of a tired and concerned look. His perfect droopy blue eyes looked sad, wondering why he had been pulled out of the club.
You sighed, now knowing that you would indeed have to confront Roger about it. "I was ordering a drink, and while I was waiting, I looked around the club, and I saw you flirting with another woman. You were smiling at her, twirling her hair, making her laugh... Roger, you don't even do those things for me half the time anymore."
It was true.
Over a few years, your relationship had softened down. You didn't want to hang out with each other as often (or he didn't anyway), you rarely shared any intimacy anymore, and every time you went out with one another, it would always end up with him checking out, or flirting with another woman. It was like your relationship was spiraling out of control.
You understood he was a rockstar and that he was busy most of the time, but when he wasn't busy, it was like he was some sort of single man. But the rockstar life isn't an excuse to be promiscuous when you're in a relationship.
And whenever you confronted him about it, he would always wave it off and say something like: 'Dont worry about it, I didn't mean a thing,' 'Whatever you saw was untrue, I would never do that,' or, 'I'm sorry, it'll never happen again.' But it did. Over, and over again. And when he owned up to his actions, it always ended up in apologetic sex, or in the morning he would wake you up with something stupid like "forgive me?" flowers, or breakfast in bed. You loved Roger, but his flirtatiousness was getting out of hand.
"That's stupid, you know I would never do that to you (Y/N). I-" He waved it off like it was some kind of annoying moth, but he knew it was true. He couldn't meet your eyes when he said that.
"Roger!" You interrupted him, your eyes on the verge of tearing up. "You do know it's true. You do know this relationship is falling apart. That's why you're going around, flirting with every woman that happens to lay eyes on you."
His eyes still wouldn't meet yours.
You felt wet tears starting to trickle down the sides of your face, so you blinked, trying to get rid of them, and turned your head to look out your window so he wouldn't see your pain.
For a moment, you sat there, staring out your window, while the stale and silent, awkward air only grew.
Finally, after drying up your tears and letting the silent air grow, you turned to him. "Roger, I'm tired of your bullshit."
