Is that Okay?

{1}

{This story is pretty depressing guys, you have been warned. Many things from this story connect to my life as well, but it gets better, I promise.}

I wish I was important like the rest of the band. Roger had his looks, Brian had his amazing knowledge, and Freddie had that magnificent voice of his. But what do I have? No looks at all, as dumb as a brick, and no way in hell could I sing.

It's like the only thing I can't do is shut up and do what everyone says, be that push over guy. Yay.

Another thing I hate about myself, is that I can't speak up for myself. If I get teased by anyone, I'll just forget about it, and cry it out later. When I need someone to talk to, I'll just talk to myself. That's exactly what I'm doing right now.

It was break time in the studio and the band was relaxing after working hard. Roger was laying down on Brian, they were both on a couch. And Freddie was listening to a few tracks we recorded today.

For the last few weeks, I've changed. Not physically, but my view on many things have changed, like my lifestyle for instance. I have been feeling tired and hopeless lately, like an never ending sadness has taken over me. I've also been recently attracted to men. I've caught myself staring at men, getting nervous around them, and even fantasizing about them. But one man that caught my eye the most, was Freddie.

Yes, our Freddie. The one with an amazing voice and even more amazing ass. Yeah, that one.

But I couldn't tell anyone about these strange new feelings. I would first talk about my horrible emotions, then I would have to come out about my sexuality, which I'm pretty confused about. Sure I like women, but I also like men. Bisexual perhaps? I don't know, it doesn't matter to me. But then, I'll have to tell Freddie about my feelings for him. That's what's preventing me from speaking at all. If I were to tell him I had feelings for him, many things could happen. Things may get awkward and break up the band, he'll be disgusted, or even worse, he won't like me back. The last bit seemed to be most likely to happen.

So I decided to shut up, bottle up my feelings, and do what ever the band said.

"What are you thinking about now John?" Roger asked curiously. Roger was really good at figuring me out, it is sometimes good and other times I want to strangle him.

I sighed and shrugged him off. Roger got up from the couch and walked up to me. He grabbed my arm gently and walked us out into the hallway.

"What are you d-"

"No, what are you doing? You've been acting strange lately. You barely talk anymore and you get so jittery around us. And you're always deep in thought. Sometimes we would call your name but you won't even answer. Something is going on with you and you need to tell me right now." Roger interrupted.

"There is nothing wrong with me."

"There is a lot wrong with you, you're just afraid to tell me." Roger said. Should I even tell him? I can't risk it.

"Roger, I'm glad you're concerned about me, but I'm perfectly fine. I just didn't get enough sleep last night, I'll be back to normal tomorrow." I said, showing a fake smile afterwards.

Roger didn't look fully convinced, but he went with it anyways. He said 'Ok' and walked back into the studio, while I followed.

Brian and Freddie looked at us as we walked in, asking about what happened.

"Nothing important." I said and gave a fake smile to prove it.

Freddie shrugged and Brian stared at me for a while, but then stopped when the timer for our break went off.

We went back to recording tracks for our album. We had no complications until I played the wrong note for my part of a song. Everyone stopped playing and looked at me. My face was burning up so I knew I was blushing. I rarely messed up so whenever I did, I end cry about it, and I did.

I excused myself from the room and went to the bathroom. I cried and quickly washed my face with cool water. I looked in the mirror and started to cry again.

"I'm so pathetic..."

I'm so ugly and I'm such a screw up. I doubt anyone would find me attractive, why do I even bother living anymore.

I ignored my depressing thoughts and cleaned up again. I left the bathroom and quickly made it back to the studio. I avoided eye contact with the band and picked up my bass.

"John, are you okay? If you mess up its totally fine, no need to be upset." Freddie said.

"I'm already a mess up, the least I can do is play the correct notes for this song." I never really downed myself out loud like that, but it made me believe it even more.

It went silent for a moment. It made me very uncomfortable, but Freddie finally decided to do something. He came up to me and placed his hand on my shoulder.

"John, don't you dare say that! You wrote many songs that became a huge success. Not only that, but you're the cutest thing in the world and we hate to see you so sad. Just tell us what's wrong, please darling." Freddie said, as he pulled me into a hug. I was speechless at the moment. Should I tell them? Not now, not today.

"I- um..." Shit. I have nothing to say.

"I am just very tired and my mom got sick. I'm worried." I lied. Sorry mom I really hope you're okay right now.

"Oh, should we visit her tomorrow then?" Freddie suggested.

"Nononono. She doesn't want us visiting because she doesn't want any of us to get sick." I quickly lied.

"Okay darling, I think we should call it a day and relax," Freddie suggested.

"Sounds great to me." I said. Everyone started packing up their things to go home.

"John, I want you to come back to mine  so we could talk." Freddie said.

He want me to go to his place. To talk. Me alone with Freddie. Just talking. Great.

"I... Sure..." I responded.

He smiled and helped me carry my things to his car.