Resent

September 2^nd, 1974


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"Goddamnit!"

David came close to throwing his guitar across the room. He'd been tuning it and retuning it for the past hour, and not once did it sound right. It was extremely frustrating, as the man never had any issues with the standard procedure. He growled, gripping the guitar with shaking hands. Breathing in and out in a meditative manner, David was able to reestablish his usual calm demeanor. That was until the door to the sound-proof studio room opened, and in came Victoria. She had on a wildly patterned sun dress, flip-flops, and her favorite floppy, sun hat.

"Hi, Dave!" she grinned big at him, closing the door. "I'm not interrupting you, am I?"

David blinked, shaking his head. "Not at all! How'd you know I was here?"

"Heh, Nick told me you were practicing up in the studio somewhere."

"Did he?"

"Yeah."

"Well, is there something you wanted to tell me, or were you just here for a listen-?" he played a fleeting note as a sample, wiggling his eyebrows.

Victoria giggled. "That was brilliant, Dave! Actually, I was here to ask you, have you seen Roger?"

David's smile drooped.

"No. Why?"

"Um, well, I kinda wanted to talk to him about something…" she mumbled, twirling a lock of blond hair around her pinky in a nervous fashion.

"Mind telling what about?" David wondered nonchalantly, going back to tuning his instrument.

"Er, kinda-no! Well, what I mean, I, um, no. No, I-I don't."

David smirked. She was cute when she stuttered like that. Wait, what?

"So, what is it, then?" he pressed, trying to rid the strange thought from his head.

"Um, well, I wanted to know if he was going to celebrate his birthday this year, because he didn't last year."

David paused his tuning again, lifting his head.

"Why do you care if he celebrates his birthday or not?" he arched an eyebrow at her.

"I-I, well, because, if he didn't, I was going to arrange a little something for him, you see…"

The guitarist kept his eyebrow arched, blinking at the girl. From somewhere else in the building they both heard a reverberating sound just then. The unmistakable thud of an electric bass guitar. Victoria jumped, looking about in an excited way.

"That must be him!" she said more to herself than to David.

"Vic-" David began, but the girl had already gone.

Feeling more than a little peeved at Victoria's behavior, he swore hotly, not caring if anyone heard him.

"Why the fuck does she like him so much?"

There were definitely more cons about Roger than there were pros. He was first and foremost an egotistical jackass. Plain and simple. He only thought about himself. Sure, he tossed about the "love" shit, and how compassionate a human being he was and all that rubbish, but everyone knew he was lying right through his teeth. He could care less if one of their loyal crewmen died of cancer tomorrow, just as long as everything was in order beforehand. He barely cared for his own wife!
Victoria was innocent in his real ways. David knew how Roger worked from personal experience. He was relatively pleasant at first meeting, then as you got to know him more, and spend more time with him, that mask of sincere kindness would be thrown away, revealing the true face of Roger Waters behind it. Victoria had yet to discover this as well.

Second, Roger was ugly as fucking sin. It befuddled David to think that such a pretty, young woman like Victoria would ever have an attraction for old Mr. horse-face Roger. He was too tall, and too thin. His lips were fat and his nose was abnormally large. He talked funny too. All around, he was an odd guy that often reminded David of a creeper. Not to mention, Roger was a dark man. He rarely showed them, but inside that head of his, David knew, pools of black thoughts swirled and churned all of the time. Unlike, Syd, he found no pleasure in life. The glass was always half empty for him. For David and the rest of the guys in Pink Floyd, it was stressful as hell to work with Roger. You never knew what mood he'd be in, day in and day out. Often times, though, he was down. Way down. And he couldn't understand why no one else felt the same as he did. This then would piss him off, and he'd start rampaging like a nutcase. David at times wondered if the bass player was depressed. Whenever he could, he'd bring up his father, who'd long passed in World War II. It was just something he'd always done, even back with Syd. Now, though, it seemed it was becoming an obsession. Every time he got the chance he'd mention his father's death and how it had presumably "effected" him as a child. David didn't doubt that the absence of a father growing up had most certainly done something to his mind, but the way Roger acted was rather ridiculous. Of course, David, nor Nick or Rick, had the energy to constantly argue with him, so more often than not, they would simply nod their heads and let him have his way.
However, David was not comfortable with the fact that Victoria liked Roger. It scared him actually. She was an incredibly sweet girl full of optimism and love for life. Just as Syd had. For her to get involved with "misery guts" was a terrible idea. He'd fuck her up faster than any drug ever could.

And Roger didn't care. He used who he could to make his own ends meet, even naïve little girls like dear Victoria. It sickened David, and he found that he could no longer mess with his instrument. With a grimace, he slipped off the strap and set his guitar up on its stand in the corner. The thundering bass had ceased for the moment downstairs, and he could imagine Victoria talking to Roger about his birthday plans. Her big bright eyes and bashful smile.

"She's making a huge mistake." he murmured to himself sadly, shaking his head.