1972

Four

Three months later

"Alright, yea, let's do another one straight away cuz that wasn't too good.."
Said Freddie through his mic. "Roger, you fucked it up.."

"aw, not so you noticed!"

"I noticed !!" Brian called out.

Roger looked at him and rolled his eyes.
"Freddie, silly little rules, eh I want you to do this,"  he said, trying to mimic a Fred's voice as he hit the drums again. 

I was sitting behind the glass which separated the studio from the control room. I was sketching some dress designs for my shop, for which a client asked for a custom-made mini dress. I was now working in fashion as I always wanted, a sweet little shop down at Kensington. I loved it!
Veronica sat across me on an armchair, flipping through a magazine.

For the past couple of months, I surprisingly got very close with the boys. After that horrible one night at the bar—well, it's not so awful now, but still, one to remember—I gave Roger my number. We started becoming real close, which eventually brought me to where I am now, close with the rest of his band and a couple more chaps along the way.

It was quite the spontaneous friendship that Rog and I established. Well, cutting it short for you, he basically invited me to a couple more of their gigs around London and some gatherings they had as a group, etc. It was really great. I loved hanging out with them all and finally felt as if I had found my people around London, which never really occurred for the past year or so when I lived here. 

I also connected well with each one of them individually. Freddie, the kind soul he is, unexpectedly moved into a flat with Mary just a few blocks' walk down the road from mine, which made us close as anything. The lovely pair always invited me around for a cuppa, and I'd do the same. Mary and I established a sort of mother-daughter relationship, aside from the fact that I was a tad younger than her, only three years, but she was such an incredible friend to me. 

Of course, I can't forget John and Veronica, who were just as lovely. They made me feel right at home whenever they had us over. I was always saying how perfect they were for each other, and one day, I even wagered they'd get married and have loads of kids. Now, I can just picture a little Deacon running about. 

Then there's Brian, the curly-haired sweetheart I love having long chats with. He's so interesting, always bringing something new and special to the conversation. Every time we talk, it's a proper comforting feeling. He's brilliant.

Last but certainly not least, there's Roger. Baby blue eyes, long golden hair—Roger Taylor. Honestly, I don't even know where to start. So much happened in such a short time that it's hard to capture every detail. But Roger—well, he was my best friend. Sure, he can't quite top Sophie, but let's give him a close second. He was everything. I lost track of how many times we saw each other every day; it was like we were living in each other's pockets. Ever since that night he gave me a lift home and took my number, we'd been hanging out nearly every day.

We loved each other's company, even just grabbing a coffee. He'd invite me over, and I'd do the same. There were days we'd sit in each other's flats for hours, talking, drinking, smoking, and watching endless films. It was as though we'd known each other for years, even though it had only been a few months. We knew everything about each other—our strengths, our weaknesses, our pasts, our hopes for the future—absolutely everything.

It was such a comfort having a friend like Roger. Honestly, some days, I thought he was practically one of the girls. He'd sit and listen to every silly little issue I had and even dish out advice! It was like having Sophie in man form. Mind you, don't tell her I said that—she'd flip. Speaking of Sophie, I've kept her in the loop on everything going on, and she's come along a few times when I invited her. She loves to tease me, saying she's convinced Roger's got a thing for me, which I constantly deny. The idea seems absurd—he's my best mate! I mean, I can't imagine anything romantic with him... can I? Or maybe I can? I don't know! But I always laugh it off and change the subject.

Anyway, enough of my rambling—let's bring you back to reality."

The boys were at the recording studio today and tagged me along again.  It was not my decision to work on my designs there. They were working on a song called "Mad the Swine," which, from what I heard so far, was much to my liking. But Queen being Queen, they almost didn't get through a single complete take without accusing each other of "speeding up," "messing up," or "forgetting a note."
It was just lovely hearing 80% of the crowd screaming through the mics and about 20% actually playing. Maybe it just wasn't their day today.

I was so concentrated on my drawing that I hardly noticed they stopped playing until a figure flopped beside me on the couch.

"Spot on, Sky—that's one hell of a dress," came a voice next to me. I knew who it was straight away but kept my eyes on my drawing.

Before I could respond, another figure was in front of me, looking down at my sketch.

"Think you could sort me out with one like that?" the voice asked, and I looked up to meet Mr. Curly himself.

"Oh, you'll have to keep dreaming if you want one of those," I replied, and he laughed.

"Oi, I'm serious! Don't you think it'd look good on me?" Brian said, snatching the sketchbook out of my hands and holding it up for the others to see.

"Hey! Give it back; I'm not finished!" I called out, standing up and snatching the book back.

Freddie chuckled. "With a body like yours, darling, you could fit into anything," he teased, gesturing to Brian's slim frame. Brian struck a pose, laughing, then settled down into a chair by the mix table.

As I returned to my drawing, the blonde head suddenly fell in front of it,, blocking my view. I glanced up and found Roger leaning in for a closer look.

"Honestly, Sky, when are we going to see you strut around in that dress?" he said, smirking and moving back up again to look at me.

I gave his arm a gentle smack. "Guess you'll just have to imagine it. This one's not for me."

Roger gave me a slightly disappointed look. "Well, who's it for, then?"

"My client, silly," I said, rolling my eyes.

Sometimes Roger's a bit slow to put two and two together."