keep it professional - r. taylor

Epilogue

~July 1986~

"God this is huge!"

"You know, taken out of context, that could be extremely confusing or explicit." Stepping onto the stage, I was met with a completely empty stadium. It was utterly insane just thinking about how, in just a few hours, this place was going to be filled to the brim with Queen fans. How the band would get through the performance without constantly messing up from nerves always stumps me.

Tonight was their performance at Wembley, and I was extremely nervous. I think I was somehow more anxious for the performance than the boys. They kept saying that I was overreacting, but I just retaliated back to them that they were underreacting.

Other than that, things were actually good. Everything seemed to be going back to normal. I mean, as normal as things can be for us. Roger and I got back together officially, exciting everyone. Since we had spent so much time apart from each other, we now spent any moment we could together. After a few months, I moved back in with him to make sure we were serious about everything.

A few weeks after that, I finally caved in and let him rescue us a dog. I was originally against the idea, knowing that I would be the one to take care of the thing while Roger spoiled it merissely. But, after we adopted little Winnie, I spent most of my free time playing outside with her at the park. The only difficult thing was having to clean up all her hair that clumped up on the furniture and my clothes.

Now, we didn't really care about being in the public eye. Sure, they wrote some interesting articles when we went out for the first time together. But, we shrugged it off, knowing that most of the stuff in there was bullshit anyways. We were also completely happy, which was something I couldn't say for a long time.

"So, what do you think?" Roger asked, snaking his arms around my waist as he held me from behind. The two of us were looking out across the empty stadium, trying to imagine what'll look like tonight.

"Absolutely unbelievable. Aren't you nervous?"

"I'm never nervous."

"I'll believe that when I see it."

"I'm serious!" I turned my neck to see if he was actually trying to convince me that he never got nervous performing in front of thousands of people. "I mean I used to. But now, I can just look off into the wings for reassurance from you, and I'm good."

"How romantic." I leaned in closer, nearly touching his lips with mine.

From in front of the two of us, I heard someone mutter, "Ew." The two of us looked over to see John, Brian, and Freddie all standing there with their hands on their hips. "You know there's people around. It's not just the two of you in the private of your home," Brian said.

"Oh piss off. Don't act like we don't have to watch you and Chrissie snog on the couch backstage all the time."

"That's different. By that point, all of us are too drunk to care. Right now, we're sober and can fully register everything."

"Who says we're sober?" Roger asked, raising his eyebrows in question.

Turning back towards me, he leaned forward to pick up where we had left off. Placing my finger on his mouth, I pushed his lips away. "Ah, ah, ah. Brian's right. Besides, you have to go get ready. I'm sure the drum set isn't set up to your perfectionist standards."

"Seriously? You're going to take Brian's word over your actual boyfriend?"

"Huh, I guess so. Maybe I fell for the wrong band member."

"Don't even joke about that." Roger let go of me, racing up towards the drum set to see if I was right. And of course I was. I saw him begin to fiddle with the angles of the cymbals and the placement of his little seat.