Don't Talk! (Freddie Mercury / Queen)

31. Still Dragging Out A Long Goodbye?

A/N - A crappy filler chapter to keep you all ticking over until I'm finished my assignments haha. Enjoy 🤍

Phoebe
Munich - New York
December

"Freddie, this isn't even borderline stalking, it's literally stalking."

Freddie didn't even glance up in my general direction; he merely exhaled sharply and waved a dismissive hand in my face. He then set about shifting restlessly in his seat for the umpteenth time, which caused the cream leather of the towncar to squeak furiously. My jaw twitched with impatience.

"Hayes sort of knows I'm here, so it's not stalking."

"He doesn't want to see—" I immediately cut myself off when Freddie turned to give me an absolutely simmering stare. "—I ah, what I mean is, Hayes doesn't seem up for any company right now."

I had been beyond shocked when Freddie phoned me on Christmas Eve, looking to flee the country. I was even more surprised when I realised that Hayes wasn't with him. The second Freddie touched down in Munich, he went off with Barbara and the Munich gang for a messy night of 'festivities'. The rockstar was beyond hungover the next morning, but mercifully woke up alone in the apartment. I had been rather worried that he wouldn't because Freddie didn't mention Hayes' name once that day.

Hayes did ring on Christmas Day, which was the only indication the pair were actually together. Freddie practically took a running leap towards the phone the second it let out it's first shrill ring. I  didn't know how he managed really considering he had been throwing his gut up all morning. I was going to leave the apartment, give them both some privacy, but I didn't even manage to get my coat on before I heard the phone being slammed back down on the receiver again.

He can barely say a word! It's like he's reading off a bloody script. What the fuck am I doing here!?

With that rant, Freddie had decided to hop on another plane with poor me in tow. The trip to New York was proving fruitless when Freddie couldn't even get past the doorman into Hayes' building. I stood and watched as Freddie went through several tactics; bribery, threats, and even threw down the celebrity card, but nothing worked. Hayes did not want to see him... and that really rattled Freddie.

"He has to leave at some stage." Freddie assured himself aloud, "Doesn't he?"

Freddie insisted that they give Hayes another day, even after yesterday's failed attempt to see him. So here I was, freezing to death in a car beside my boss, on a bloody stakeout to speak with an elusive music critic. It wasn't exactly how I saw my holiday season going.

"Yes, I'm sure he'll be out soon." I murmured, but didn't know if I believed my own words. Something bad must have went down.

Freddie nodded slowly, "Yes, yes, it'll be fine."

I was Freddie's friend, yes, but I'm also his employee, which made it difficult at times to know how far I could involve himself in personal matters. Surely the fact that I'm here with him means I can ask what the hell is going on. And this is my Hayes we're talking about.

"I know you said you two didn't have an argument..." I trailed off, letting Freddie elaborate if he wanted to.

"We didn't." Freddie replied briskly.

"Then what—"

"—what happened?" Freddie chuckled ruefully, "I don't fucking know, that's the problem Phoebe. I walked into the flat, and he had his bag packed, ready to go."

Before I could question anything any further, Freddie pressed on.

"I shouldn't have let him go in the first place, he was clearly fucking torn apart by something, but I panicked." Freddie's voice caught ever so slightly, "Now he's holed up there in his apartment... you have no idea how fucking terrifying his behaviour was Phoebe. I have never seen anything like it."