Liar | Freddie Mercury

Chapter Twenty Seven

The first week was the absolute worst. I spent an entire week in my flat, only leaving for class and work.

I couldn't sleep and my appetite shot through the roof. I consumed everything I could get my hands on, desperate to fill the void in my heart with food.

I obsessively stared at the telephone for hours on end, wishing, hoping, praying he would call me. But not a single call ever came through. Not from Freddie, nor Roger, not even Veronica.

I had to stop myself numerous times from going to his flat. I thought that I owed him an explanation as to why I left, but he knew why. He knew exactly why I left and he knew that it was for the best. I was thinking of an excuse to see him, but seeing him would only worsen the wound I was trying to heal.

I couldn't think about him without sobbing. I hated him so much, and I hated that I let myself down by feeling this way about him.

If only Roger had never stumbled into my life, everything would be fine right now.

Around the second week, I began working, a lot. I worked every single day, trying my best to stay busy and distract myself from him.

When I wasn't working, I was on campus, and when I wasn't on campus, I was walking around the streets of London.

I feared that if I stayed in my flat for too long, I'd only grow lonelier. My appetite seemed to vanish in this time. Rose would often invite me back to her home after work, insisting that I eat dinner with her and her husband. Those were the only proper meals I was consuming.

When I was in my flat, I would still glance over at the telephone ever so often, imagining it ringing and hearing his voice.

But it never did.

In this time, my hatred slowly started fading. My heart was shattered, but I realized that this was my fault as much as it was his. Neither of us ever planned for this to happen. I often found myself wondering if he was going through the same agony. Perhaps he was, or maybe he was so distracted by the music, his friend, and Pasha that he barely noticed my absence.

The third week was a massive improvement, mainly because I was so distracted by the book I was reading, I hardly had the time to think about him.

"She was Lo, plain Lo, in the morning, standing four feet ten in one sock. She was
Lola in slacks. She was Dolly at school. She was
Dolores on the dotted line. But in my arms she was always Lolita."

That's right, I was reading the most disturbing book I could find in an attempt to distract myself from my world. I still wasn't eating much, and my motivation for university and work had vanished. I skipped many classes and only worked four shifts a week, which Rose was happy about.

She always believed that self-care came first. Although she didn't know exactly what had happened, she knew that I was experiencing my first ever heartbreak. I barely spoke to her, I barely spoke to anyone, but she knew what my silence meant.

In this time, I accepted that I couldn't have him. I missed him, a lot, but now, I also started missing my friends. Veronica hadn't reached out, nor did Roger. I wondered if they were angry. I wondered if Freddie told Veronica all about it.

The fourth week was when everything mostly seemed to go back to normal. I was working my regular five shifts a week, I was attended every class, and I made it through the disturbing world of 'Lolita' by Vladimir Nabokov.

I would still stroll around London from time to time, passing the pubs and clubs where Queen would regularly perform. In a moment of weekness, I walked all the way to Roger and Freddie's flat, just to turn around and head back home.