Don't Talk! (Freddie Mercury / Queen)

15. Someone Has Drained the Colour From My Wings.

F.M
New York, USA
25th, September

I wanted to throw the tantrum of all tantrums.

I was quite prepared to go down in rock'n'roll history as the person who has the biggest fucking meltdown ever witnessed. I was all fired up and ready to just go for it, but I physically couldn't, which only served to piss me off even more.

"Alright drink this," Phoebe quickly handed me a cup of honey and lemon infused water, "The kettle is on again, you're going to have to keep steaming your throat."

Olbas oil had found a way to fucking dominate all my senses, and I was fairly certain that I would never, ever rid myself of the scent. I winced as I tentatively sipped the scalding liquid, praying it would soothe my tender throat. If there was ever a time I needed my voice, it was now.

I finally split from Bill Reid last night, but it wasn't exactly a clean break. There was a screaming match, and apparently I fucking lost because here I was with only a shred of my voice left. No voice, on the very day Queen were set to have a crucial performance. I was furious with myself. 

I wasn't all that upset about ending things with Bill (which is obvious I'm sure because I talk about him so much), in fact, I was relieved that I didn't have to worry about him anymore. We had been rocky for months on account of his possessiveness, but things had reached a tipping point last night when I just couldn't bear him for a second longer. He was just smothering me with his jealousy, and it just wasn't... right. We weren't right for each other, and there was no point forcing it for the sake of me having company on tour and in New York.

Now, I'm the first to admit that I am not an ideal partner. My silly infatuation with Hayes Griffith is a prime example of my wandering eye. Still, Bill was like a bloody ogre when angry, and nothing I did ever warranted the monstrous way in which he treated me at times.

He was so fucking intense the daft tart, which is exactly why I think I was still entertaining my stupid little crush on Hayes: because he was the exact opposite. He didn't give a two shits about me, and he was pretty. What more could I ask for to distract me? It was a little bit of fun, escapism if you will. I never expected Hayes to ever return the attraction, and it's much easier to fancy the unobtainable ones. If you know you can never have them, well they can't really hurt you can they? It's safe and somewhat entertaining. Although, it's important to note that it's only easier until you end up actually liking them. Which I fear is happening to me.

One day I just enjoyed the sight of Hayes like a niece piece of art, and now? Now I actually... oh god I don't want to even bloody think it, but I genuinely miss him. And it hasn't even been a full fucking week since I had seen him last. How sad is that?

I tried phoning Hayes yesterday when we landed in New York, but I got no answer. Which is fine, but he hasn't called back today. I had a gut instinct that our little misunderstanding had sent him running for the hills. If that's all it takes to send him packing, I really do need to wise up and let the infatuation go. I'm free from Bill now, I don't need the Hayes outlet anymore.

Mhm, that all sounded quite reasonable.

"Freddie!" Roger slipped in the door. He choked a little, looking like he may pass out from all the fumes. "How are you feeling now mate?"

I cut him my most apologetic expression which said it all. Roger sighed and slumped down beside me. He then quickly removed his sunglasses as they instantly steamed up.