keep it professional - r. taylor

3

~February 1973~

    The final chords of the song were dissolving out as the cassette player came to a stop. John was hunched over, leaning in closer to the player. Paul was leaning up against the wall, quietly stamping his foot in sync with the music. I had taken a seat, and was unconsciously bobbing my head to the music. After our failed interviews with all the meetings that Reid set up, we managed to convince him to listen to the new Queen demo.

    John took a few seconds before turning back towards the both of us. "Well, they've got a great sound."

    "They're on the younger side, which could help appeal to the younger audience. Especially the female audience," I added in. Paul kicked the back of my chair, to which I shot him a quick glare.

    "They seem like they've got good potential."

    "You should've seen them in the booth John. They were tying amps to strings, and were using lampshades to cover their microphones. Elizabeth told me she saw them in concert."

    "Yeah, and they were pretty good. Their singer really knows how to keep the audience entertained, to say the least."

    "What's his name again?" John shuffled through some of his documents, finally landing on the sign-up sheet he managed to get from the recording studio. "Ah yes, Freddie Mercury. Well... looks like we've got our next meeting ready. Elizabeth, I want you to call him and set it up. I also want the two of you there with me. If things go well, I'm thinking of specifically assigning the both of you to ensure that things work out well."

    "Will do John." I grabbed the information sheet from him and made my way back to my desk. I dialed the telephone number I was given and waited as the phone continued to ring.

    Finally, I heard a soft, female voice answer from the other end of the line. "Hello?" she asked.

    "Hello, I'm looking for Mr. Freddie Mercury?"

    "Just one second." I heard her shout something from the other end and pass the phone to someone else, who I presume is Freddie.

    "This is Freddie Mercury."

    "Hi Mr. Mercury. My name is Elizabeth Holmes, and I work with John Reid at EMI Records. We saw your band, Queen, recording some music the other day, and managed to get a hold of a demo. We all heard the music and loved it, so we wanted to see if you would be interested in meeting with us to discuss possible management."

    "Are you serious?" he asked.

    "Yes I am Mr. Mercury. Would Friday next week work for the band?"

    "Yes...yes... that would work."

    "Great! I'll send more information for you later this week. Thank you Mr. Mercury!" I hung up the phone and opened up my desk calendar, marking the appointment for next Friday. John had given Paul and I a numerous amount of potential artists that we specifically oversee, but they never work out. Hopefully this 'Queen band' will work out better than all the past projects we've been given.

---

    The sun was shining exceptionally bright this morning. I had stayed up later than I had anticipated last night, trying to finish the recent book I had picked up to return it to the library. I know, that was the lamest excuse for sleeping in ever. But at least I was at my own house, and not some stranger's who I had just met the night before.

    I felt like I had woken up about an hour or two earlier than I usually do, so I gave myself a little bit of time to pull myself out of bed. I brushed my hair out of my face so that I could actually see what time it was. I looked over towards my clock and read the numbers 7:56, which was eleven minutes after I had to leave my house to make it on time. Shit.