Good Company - Queen Fanfiction

Chapter 21

April 19th, 1979

After the exceptional efforts to consume excessive amounts of alcohol, the majority of the crew were ruined for the first part of the Wednesday morning after my party. I'm quite sure no one left their rooms before eleven o'clock.

Freddie and I danced for the rest of the song, he pulled me close and held on of my hands and had his other arm wrapped firmly around my waist. I rested my free hand on his shoulder and my head eventually made it's way to his chest. The song was quiet and soothing, making me feel very sleepy. When the song finished Freddie picked up the record and put it back in its sleeve. We walked back to the elevator together and when we got in I leaned on one of the walls. I almost fell asleep with the rumbling of the elevator going up. I didn't notice it at first, but when we got out of the elevator Freddie stayed close to me as I stumbled tiredly down the hall way. He helped me make it into my room and bid me goodnight. I think that's how it happened anyway, my memory is a tad fuzzy.

Though the first half of yesterday was hardly productive, the crew more than made up for it and worked on the stage setup for the whole afternoon, getting it ready for tonight in no time.

I am currently sitting on the floor, just in front of the first row seats, watching the boys do their soundcheck. Crystal has been running around Roger's drum kit for half an hour and poor old Ratty has had to tip toe around Freddie all afternoon. He's been in a funny mood today, his temper particularly short. A couple of the crew members explained that it isn't a surprising occurrence for Freddie to get into a sulky mood periodically during tours. No one can do much about it apparently, he just has to burn himself out.

I decided earlier that it'd be better if I just try to avoid him until he cheers up so I've been doing just that. It's easy to tell the others are getting pissed off with his antics. Brian is doing his best to just play his part and make sure he's got it right. John is doing the same, but Roger has taken to making everything worse and starts a drum roll every time Freddie starts whining. It's funny, but is in no way helping. I'm pretty sure Ratty wants to clock both of them in the head.

At first I was watching them, but the constant bickering quickly got boring and now I'm sitting with my knees up and a notepad leaning against them. I was going to write about the soundcheck for the fan club magazine, but I don't think they want to hear about Freddie being a tosser so I've opted for doodling. I get so sucked into it that I don't notice everyone taking a break.

"Here comes trouble," One of the crew members announce.

I look up and see Freddie walking towards me, flipping off the guy who made the comment. An uneasy feeling pools in my stomach as he gets closer. Hopefully his approaching me means that he'll be a little better-tempered with me than he has been with everyone else. I doubt it.

He collapses onto the floor next to me and flings his arms about dramatically. "I am so fucking exhausted."

So is everyone that's had to deal with you today, I think to myself. I wouldn't dare say it aloud so instead I sigh. "I know how you feel. Though this is only the third show, there's still twelve more to go."

He groans, "Don't remind me."

"You don't like touring, do you?"

"That's not entirely true. I love performing, especially for the fans. But all the travelling and setting up is nightmarish."

I fiddle with the the pen in my hand and nod. I don't really have anything else to say, so I sit quietly.

He turns to me, his whole body, and cocks his head to the side. "Are you ticklish?"

I give him an odd look, "A little, why?"

He shrugs. "Just wondering."

He inches closer only the tiniest amount, but I instinctively back away.