Don't Talk! (Freddie Mercury / Queen)

43. Where Can I Belong?

A/N- This is far too long... but feck it ahaha, it's one of the last few chapters. Enjoy! 😌

H.G
London, England
January

"Hayes, we're leaving."

"No."

Annie tugged my arm pleadingly, "Hayes, come on."

"You're not staying here." George said firmly, his expression plastered with unconcealed concern. His gaze also kept flickering off behind me as if I may be sprung upon at any second. I watched impatiently as he nervously shift from foot to foot.

"Stop your twitching," I huffed, "Everything will be fine, they won't say or do anything with an audience present."

Aren't weddings fabulously awful affairs? I decided to attend my second cousin, Maisie's, wedding after George begged me to accept my invite. He assured me that the rest of the family wouldn't be there, so I decided 'fuck it, why not?'. Not even three sips into my complementary flute of champagne in Claridge's banquet hall, I discovered exactly why the fuck not.

"Griff!" Oliver clapped me hard on the back, "Been a while hasn't it?"

I casually stepped away from his touch as if his presence didn't make my skin crawl. "Oli!" I forced a smile, "You've aged." With delight I noticed the odd streak of silver he was now trying to hide with the sweep of his limp hair.

Oliver bristled but before he could say anything further, his wife appeared and hugged me tight. Since it would serve to piss my brother off more, I returned the gesture and added a brief kiss to Natalie's cheek.

"You look great Hayes!" Natalie smiled but the expression seemed tight. I don't know how the poor dear continued to suffer through marriage to my brother. "How have you been?"

Oliver scowled before he tugged his wife back away from me, "Come on, let's congratulate Maisie."

They walked away which mercifully left me alone with George and Annie once again. Both of them looked as though they were ready to take a swing at Oliver if he even glanced in my direction. I would have paid to see Annie take him on because she's been wanting to do so since the second she married into the family. Knowing Oliver, and his judgemental mouth, I'm sure Annie would have her moment sooner rather than later.

"See?" I hummed and reached for another flute of champagne, "No problems." I looped Annie's arm through mine, "Now let's put your boxing gloves away, and find our seats."

I was struggling to exhale, but that's fine. That will come later I'm sure.

As usual, I was the odd one out at a family function. The ballroom was packed to its full occupancy with rows of white candlelit tables and gaudy centrepieces. Tables that fitted six. Not the Griffith table, no, I ruined everything and made it bloody seven. Not eight, which would have been at least even, but seven, perhaps one of the most awkward numbers out there. I was definitely an afterthought.

Mercifully, I was squeezed in between Annie and Natalie. George and Oliver were also sat next to each other, and obviously neither looked too happy about it. I tried not to dwell on the fact that I was placed between the two women, or that I wasn't offered a plus one. Annie and Natalie spoke over me to one another in an attempt to keep things at the table civil, whilst not allowing any gap of silence to open up at all.