While Cynthia Lewis is hired by Princess Di to orchestrate a charitable function, Freddie Mercury has agreed to perform. Neither one of them believed that they were to meet their match. Both wealthy, successful and highly sexual, their encounter lea...
I apologize my beauties for the long wait in updating. As some of you know, I haven't been feeling too well, and it was impossible to concentrate on story-telling. Illness coupled with writer's block does not bode to well. Please forgive me, I am back in my writer's chair and hopefully will update tomorrow (Sunday). I am nearing conclusion and want to get on with my next project. I would love to hear from you if you have ANY comments. ❤️
The police cuffed Freddie and Prenter and led them out through the back door. As they did, Freddie motioned to Banner to call Giuliani. When they exited, Banner called the number and told what transpired, quickly hung up, called Jim Beach and proceeded to follow the police.
They were on their way to the 6th Precinct at West 10th Street when Paul asked "What do you think will happen to us?"
Freddie only shrugged and said "I'll call Miami before being booked, if I can."
The driver whispered to his partner, "Can you believe it, we have Freddie Mercury sitting back there? You think we can get a photo or autograph?"
"Don't be such a shmuck, we're bringing them in on a drug bust"
Although they whispered, Freddie heard most of it and smiled inwardly thinking people were the same no matter what they did.
Freddie's POV
New York's amazing at any hour. Here it is at 3am and there is still hustle and bustle in the city. New York doesn't "come alive" at any given hour, it is alive 24/7. The neon lights interspersed throughout the concrete jungle, street venders hawking knockoffs and questionable food, even the homeless lying in doorways on cardboard boxes add a certain je nai sas quoi. It is the cultural epicenter of the world. I'm sure Londoners would disagree, but being a Londoner, I would have to say, hands down, it's New York.
It's amazing how simple life was back in the 70's. Once a week dinner at my parents, every other week dinner at Roger's Mom. The few coins Roger and I managed to earn from our stall at the Kensington Market was enough for a hamburger. Maybe that's why I hate them so much now. No fast food for me, and nothing out of a paper bag. We all had such fun, trying to hawk our music. The arguments amongst ourselves and finally getting John to open his mouth and stand up for himself. Of course it wasn't all a bed of roses. There was heartbreak and disappointments along the way. Playing all those gigs and desperate for management and the abundance of free drinks after a show, wow. I'm lucky I still have a functioning liver, and the heartache of always trying to find that someone special to love.
All those one night stands, before, during and after Mary. Did I actually do all that? Forget about my liver, I'm surprised my pecker didn't fall off. Faces, names, cocks and asses swirling in my brain, much to many to recall, but some do stand out.
David, lovable David Minns with the chubbiest ass. How I thought I was in love with him, and what a time we had together. I remember writing Sweet Old Fashioned Lover Boy for him. What a pain I recall, always threatening suicide, but it was fun while it lasted.
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