Time Passages (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

44. The Word is Out

Freddie

I opened the door, stepped out a moment as I watched Danny race across the wet sidewalk. Even after he disappeared inside, I kept staring in the same direction, thoughts drifting off into space as the heavy double doors slowly came together again.  

Such a sweet boy, that Mr. Phantom, I said to myself.

True, he was also a nosy little imp who didn't know the first thing about keeping secrets- but a dear imp nonetheless, one that made this trip back to the city so much nicer than it would have been had I gone alone. He really seemed to have taken to me, and consistently at that. It was refreshing to know that he placed as much belief and trust in me as he did, especially since I could not depend on either one from his mother. That woman couldn't bring herself to trust anyone.

No, no, that's not fair, she trusts a lot of people- as long as they're not me, I told myself unhappily. She trusts Gertrude for one; trusts him enough to let him clip her wings, put her in a gilded cage, all for the sake of her child who doesn't even know, doesn't have the first idea what she's gone through- is going through- for him. I would never have clipped her wings, I would never have sought to trap her- I would never have made her live like this, if she'd only-

If she'd only believed in me just a little.

That old, dull ache in my chest, which I'd been feeling for much of the ride already, suddenly grew worse. For I knew that Julia had never really trusted in me, even at our closest point. Fuck, she trusted Danny's mysterious father more than she trusted me- a man who had fucking left her (I was assuming this, true, but from how she had reacted to my questions, it seemed the best explanation). She bore that lucky motherfucker's child, and he LEFT her! And yet not one word of criticism, not one hint of doubt, or anger, or anything.

Were this the day before, I perhaps may have allowed myself to laugh in private scorn at her situation, to crow things like "Karma's a bitch, isn't it, honey?" but now, I just didn't have the heart. The events of this afternoon were too new, the memory of her lips against mine and her body in my arms, too fresh- and the feelings, simmering deep down inside, much too real.

"Nice ride, man!" a bundled-up New Yorker whistled from a short distance away, catching me off guard.

A bit clumsily I turned toward him and nodded. "Thank you."

This turned out to be a stupid move. The man strolled nearer. "What is that, a Lambo?"

"Uh, I don't know," I muttered apprehensively. "Charles, what kind of car is this anyway?"

"Company," he quipped back.

"Darling, that's not what I meant."

Charles might have answered me a bit better, I couldn't really say, for I paid no attention.  The man had drawn quite close by now, still cooing at the beauty of my "ride."  "That's no Lamborghini, it's bigger, Lambos aren't four-door," he murmured.  "Can't even see the tires, it's so low.  That's wild."

I coughed.  "Really?  How splendid, I hadn't even noticed.  Bye bye."  I started to edge a little closer to the open seat.

Then the man looked at me- and his eyes grew wide with astonishment.  "Wait a second, you're that guy!  The guy from the radio!"

I blinked.  "Hm?"

"The guy yesterday- Rick!  Isn't that your name?  The guy who looks like that guy!"

"That's me, dear," I droned, trying not to laugh, "I am the guy."

"You know what I'm talking about, though, right?  You must get it all the time.  Dang it, what's his name- sang for Queen-"