She Makes Me - A Brian May Fan Fiction

Chapter 14: What?

[Brian]

"Wake up, Rog. It's four-thirty, we're leaving in an hour," I called out from the bathroom as I brushed my teeth. "And you're driving us to Simone's."

"What time are we leaving from Simone's?" Deacy asked, stepping into the bathroom to brush his teeth too. 

"By six, I reckon," I replied, making room for Deacy at the sink.

Still no sign of movement from Rog. I emerged from the bathroom with my toothbrush still in my mouth, ready to rouse him once more. "Wake up, you pissflap," I teased, lightly swatting him with my hair drying towel.

He peered out from beneath the covers, a mix of confusion and annoyance on his face. "You're not even dressed yourself yet!" he retorted, giving my legs a playful kick as I clung to the towel covering my lower half.

"And I'll be dressed in a tick. Deacy's already suited up and you're still reeking. Now, drag yourself out of bed and hit the shower," I instructed, gesturing towards the bathroom door.

"Ugh! Yes, mum!" he grumbled, rolling his eyes as he begrudgingly rose from the bed.

After finishing my brushing, I returned to the bedroom to get dressed. Despite the morning bustle, a wave of nervousness washed over me as I contemplated the day ahead. It had been two nights since I'd last spoken to Simone, and the thought of reaching out to her during the interim filled me with anxiety. If she was indeed avoiding me, I dreaded the possibility of making matters worse.

I stood in front of the mirror, scrutinizing my outfit for longer than necessary. Today, I had opted for a more casual ensemble—a black letterman jacket, paired with black trousers and white clogs. It felt like a fitting choice, far more relaxed than my usual attire of a white shirt and black blazer.

Packing for the trip had been relatively straightforward. I was more concerned about ensuring my guitar, affectionately dubbed "Old Lady," was securely stowed than I was about my clothing selection. Having left half of my wardrobe back at my London flat, I wasn't fretting about running out of options. Roger, ever fortunate, remained nonchalant about his drum kit; as usual, the event would provide one for him.

This week's event was the Imperial Clothing Fair and Charity Fashion Show. Originally, they had booked a different, much newer band. However, for some reason, that band had to cancel, leaving them with no choice but to book us instead. We were only required to perform for two days, but we decided to take advantage of the remaining days of the Autumn break.

"Where the hell is my hairdryer?" Roger barged into the room. "Oh..."

I had just plugged it in when he entered. We decided to dry our hair simultaneously, deeming it the more efficient choice. I had never been this close to Roger before, though.

Around five-ten, we made our way downstairs, laden with trunks and instruments, ready to load them into the car for our departure.

"Mum, we're off!" Roger's voice echoed from the bottom of the staircase, prompting Winifred to hurry downstairs, showering Roger's forehead with affectionate kisses.

"Are you certain that you have everything, Roggie?"

"Yes, Mum."

"Come back in one piece, alright? I love you," she kissed him again.

"Yes, Mum. I love you more."

Deacy looked at me funny as Roger darted out of the house without even looking at us.

"Bye, Mrs. Taylor!" We waved goodbye.

"I love you, Roggie!" Deacy teased as we walked out, making kissing puppets with his hands and kissing sounds.