A Man For All Seasons (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

33. Nothing to Lose

Hi ho, Sal here! Sorry I'm a day late! Hope you enjoy!

Julia

Danny barreled into the bathroom, where I was busy straightening my hair. "Any calls?" he asked.

"Not since thirty seconds ago, Daniel-san," I smiled.

"It was longer than that!" he insisted, putting his hands on his hips.

"Okay, you got me. Thirty-five seconds."

"No! It was definitely at least five whole minutes!"

"Uh-huh. Then why was it 9:45 the last time you checked, but it's only 9:46 now?"

"Your phone's just too slow, that's all." Danny trudged unhappily toward the door. "Just please say when he does, okay?"

"Of course I will. See you in another quarter of a minute."

With an annoyed groan, Danny hustled off again. But once he had disappeared, my phone vibrated. Heart skipping a beat, I dropped the straight iron against the sink with a clatter and grabbed my phone. What was left of my fake smile disintegrated when I found it was only Wes, who had sent me a sweet photo of my conure giving the camera the side eye, with the caption "Farnsie sends his good morning wishes!"

"Thanks, Wes, I needed that," I messaged back, wishing I could join the contentedly grinning emoji I punctuated the sentence with in its happy place. For I was feeling as anxious as Danny.

Freddie should have reached out by now.

And it wasn't as though I had just been sitting around like some pathetic little groupie waiting to be summoned, hoping he would remember us. I had called and texted John several times to check in, make sure nothing was wrong. Not once had I gotten so much as a thumbs up back. My fingernails clacked impatiently against the counter.

"This is stupid," I muttered. "This is so fucking stupid. I may just drive up there regardless of the phone call; that way he won't have any excuse."

Under normal circumstances I might have fretted over the very idea, worrying that such a move would reek of desperation, not to mention cut the remainder of my dignity to fine ribbons when in all likelihood Freddie actually had either forgotten or simply changed his mind about having us join him at the rendezvous. However, K's warning had consumed my dreams, the words filling every corner of my brain like a vast, garish billboard situated directly behind my eyes.

My urgent need to see Freddie right then had comparatively little to do with our relationship, or even with the rendezvous. It was very simple: If K was telling the truth, I wanted an explanation, but if he was lying, as I dearly hoped, Freddie deserved the chance to deny such unspeakable claims.

Outside the bedroom, I could hear my parents chatting warmly, underscored by the Vince Guaraldi Trio and Danny's high, breathless giggles as he chased Cleopatra around the coffee table. Unplugging the straightener, I tossed my hair over my shoulders and stepped out to join them for a moment. I had just reached the doorway when I stopped, turned, and peered closer at Danny's bed- or rather, his pillow, which came to an odd point in its very center. Without hesitation, I lifted it up.

Oh, good. Now on top of everything else, I have to yell at my son.

"DANNY!"

Danny stopped dead in his tracks. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Please come here," I said sternly.

Footsteps shuffled up toward the bedroom till at last he materialized there in the doorway.

I folded my arms. "Wanna tell me what Yin and Yang are doing under your pillow?"

Danny's eyes widened. "Uh- well, I, um- brought them for good luck," he stammered.