She Makes Me - A Brian May Fan Fiction

Chapter 38: April Fools

[tw: mentions of blood and other excretions - if you're sensitive to that]

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[Simone]

1st April 1971

Ha. Very nice.

My life is a fucking joke.

It was shaping up to be a typical Thursday, but with the Easter break, I found myself at home for the week. Alex and her little family had decided to seize the holiday for an out-of-town vacation, leaving me to enjoy some quality time with Mum.

As for the band, they hadn't slowed down one bit. Their schedule was packed with gigs all over Cornwall, sometimes three shows a week, which was fantastic! Brian, ever the master of time management, somehow juggled it all so we could still spend most of the week together. On days without rehearsals, he'd visit me and help take care of Mum. Just yesterday, we celebrated our fifth month together. It was a small but special milestone for us.

Despite my longing to hang out with my friends during the break, their commitments to the band kept them busy. I imagined the girls were with them unless Ave and Stella were tied up with pub duties. But I didn't mind staying home. I cherished these moments with Mum—watching romantic comedies, chatting about life, tending to the garden when our backs ached from sitting too long, or taking Luna for walks whenever Brian joined us.

Tonight, Mum and I planned to attend one of Queen's gigs. For the first time in weeks, they'd be performing in Truro, having toured around Cornwall recently. Mum, eager to see Brian and especially Freddie live, was ready to brave the loud music for the night. She's such a trooper, honestly.

"Do my makeup," Mum urged, her excitement palpable.

"Mum!" I whined and chuckled, setting the bowl of soup on the table. "Eat your food first. Then I'll do your makeup. It's your first night out in ages. We need to make sure your tummy doesn't betray you and ruin your fun."

"What's the atmosphere like when they perform? Is it mostly young people watching them?"

"Loud... energetic," I replied. "Their out-of-pub gigs could have 200-400 people, you know," I bragged. "You miss being young, don't you?" I smiled, stirring the soup. She nodded, a wistful frown on her face. "You're still young, though."

"My face doesn't show it. And my hair is starting to fall off."

"Mum, even Rog thought you were in your thirties when he first saw you," I chuckled.

"He was absolutely joking," she shook her head.

"Mum, don't worry. Your Asian genes aren't failing you," I laughed.

"You and your mates are all the same," she playfully rolled her eyes before leaning forward to kiss my cheek.

I began to feed Mum her soup. Alex had made sure I knew exactly what Mum liked, and even though it was my first time cooking for her on my own, I managed. Sometimes, Mum could be as picky as a child, refusing to eat unless it was something she truly enjoyed. But I couldn't blame her. If I were dealing with such a tough condition, I'd want to cling to any small comfort I could get.

"Remember when we went to watch The Beatles in '63?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"I wanted Paul to marry me so badly. Even until now," she chuckled. "He looked so beautiful on stage, didn't he?"

"You haven't changed, Mum," I laughed, wiping a smear of soup off her upper lip. "I remember Alex and I fighting over who George was going to marry, as if I wasn't just fifteen at the time," I shook my head at the memory.