PRETTY LOVER BOY - ROGER TAYLOR

XV.

♛ ♛ ♛

"Clementine, that boy is so in love you he can't think straight," Freddie says as I paint over his nails, the black shining back up at me as I do my best not to get the polish on his skin.

"I've never felt as wonderfully overwhelmed as I did in that parking lot Fred. I can't even begin to explain it," I say, finishing the second coat of his first hand, moving to the next.

"Roger's been on cloud nine since that night, you must see it," Freddie inspects his newly painted nails checking for imperfections.

"Oh believe me, I know," I reply, starting on his other hand as I think of the bruises that must be present and incredibly tender on my inner thighs.

"I think the success of the album has only brought him higher, darling, it has for all of us," Freddie calls my attention to look up at him, "how does it feel knowing your song has gotten so popular?"

"It's your song, Freddie," I reply, looking back down to finish his hand, just barely catching his pointed look at me before my attention is back on his nails.

"And look at us now, at the BBC, about to do a live performance," he says as I finish his hand, capping off the polish and setting it down on the side table. I stand from the couch, walking towards the door.

"Things are happening," I say, earning a grin from Freddie at the statement I've become all too familiar with.

"That they are."

I head out of the small dressing room, walking down the hall and past a few workers moving carts or just hanging around before I find the door to where the performance is taking place. I enter, pushing away a curtain to find loads of people, some cameramen and crew, others just there to watch the performance. I manage to get through them all and to the stage where I find Brian, Deaky, and Roger.

"Hey guys," I say, finding they all look somewhat annoyed, "is everything ok?"

"This is shit," Roger responds, smacking his sticks on his drums only for a weird knocking noise to come out of it.

"They're fake?" I look to Brian who sighs, nodding his head halfheartedly. "But why?"

"Freddie, boys," I turn around, finding Paul walking towards us with the BBC director.

"Look, chaps, it is going to be playback," the man explains, "lip sync is all that's required."

"We do know how to play our instruments," Roger jumps in before Freddie advances on the man, getting uncomfortably close to him.

"You want me to lip sync?" He asks.

"I don't understand why we can't simply preform live," Brian asks, trying to somewhat keep the peace.

"The audience will never know the difference," the man responds.

"We'll know the bloody difference," Brian gestures to the boys, become a bit exasperated along with the rest of them.

"This is the BBC, that's how things are done around here, alright? Don't be a nuisance," the man gives a pointed look to Freddie before disappearing off into the room.