Who Wants To Live Forever...

The World That We Created - Part 3

A/N - There is a new POV in this chapter.  Thanks for your patience while I worked through my writer's block.

27th June 1985

Los Angeles

Brian's POV

I used to think Roger was at his most beautiful during those heady days in 1976. But watching him now, I think I might be wrong.  Seeing him lying in the hammock swinging back and forth in the back garden of our private house in L.A, he was more radiant than ever.

The radio was playing softly in the background and he was lazily moving the hammock beneath him.  One leg swung over the side as he rested with his arms behind his head.  A dream like look on his face.  I turned the page in my notebook and felt inspired.

In the sunshine of this year
I remember your face so clear
If you want, we can journey back
Find the traces of our golden days

The words 'golden days' somehow suited this getaway.  We were spending time together and considered this precious secret escape as being golden time.  Priceless and precious.   I found myself inspired by the discussion and jotted down the words that had filled my head.

Golden corn waving in the sun
Golden days unaware we run
Well I won't forget the sound
Golden dreams shattered on the ground

"What are you writing?"  Roger suddenly asked me.  I looked up and found him watching me.  I smiled at him.

"A song maybe..."  I replied.  He rolled onto his side in the hammock and gazed at me.  

"You always seemed inspired at the most interesting times..."  he remarked.  I tapped my pen against my notebook.

"I can't help it..."  I responded.  "Sometimes the words just pop in my head and I need to get them down before they disappear..."  I told him.  I leaned forward a little and gave him an earnest expression.   "Have you written anything lately?"  I asked him.  Roger shrugged slightly.

"Not much..."  he said.  "At least not much I think Queen might be interested in..."  he clarified.  I was well aware that nowadays he wrote as much for himself as he did for the band.  I could appreciate it.  He enjoyed his solo ventures and found them a way to satisfy a creative itch that Queen didn't always scratch these days.  Despite having minimal commercial success with his solo records, he still enjoyed that freedom of expression and being his own man.  

"Already have enough for another solo record?"  I queried.  

"Possibly..."  he said as he turned to get out of the hammock.  Pulling himself up to step out of it.    "I'm getting hungry..."  he announced as he stood and stretched.  His arms reaching up over his head.

"I could eat...."  I agreed as I closed my notebook and set it down.  Roger stuck his hand out to me and I let him take it and pull me up from my chair.  Leading me into the house to consider dinner.   Once I arrived at the house and got settled, I ventured out and bought some groceries for the few days we are here.  We didn't want to risk going out to eat anywhere and being spotted together.  As far as the world knew, I was still in New Orleans and he was back in London.  We intended to keep it that way.  I made us both an omelet and fried potatoes and Roger squeezed some fresh orange juice.  

"I remember that omelets were your 'go to' thing anytime you cooked for us during our early days..."  Roger remarked as he took a bite of his food.

"I didn't know a lot about cooking then..."  I pointed out.  "My Mum had taught me a few things as she didn't want me living off jam and bread or fish and chips the rest of my life..."  I said as Roger smiled.