People Can You Hear Me? [A Brian May Story]

[3]

"What did I do?" Brian asked, his eyes wide.

Roger shrugged, "Beats me."

"You probably scared her off Roger," Fred said. "You and not being able to keep your dick in your pants."

Brian smiled a bit. "Were you flirting again?"

Roger ashed his second cigarette, "She's a pretty girl, why wouldn't I? I'm irresistible!"

Rolling his eyes, Brian set his books down. "Are we still heading out to the studio tonight?"

"Yes as soon as John gets back, we can leave," Fred replied, folding the silk fabric that had been left behind.

And as if on cue, he showed up holding his girlfriend's hand. "Sorry I'm late, we were-"

"Fucking?" Said Fred.

"Making out?" Roger teased.

John sighed and turned to Veronica. "I'll see you when we finish recording okay?"

She smiled, "Okay, I'll see you in two weeks babe." Moving to walk out, her eyes landed on Brian who looked unusually torn. "Brian, are you okay?"

"Oh, he's fine," Roger answered. "He thinks he scared the mute girl out of here."

John looked at Brian, confused. "Mute girl?"

"Wait! Did she have long black hair?" Veronica asked.

All three of the boys nodded their heads. "And was carrying a green bag," Fred added in.

"Yes, I helped her get here to Kensington market!" She said excitedly. "I met her on the street, just a couple blocks from Imperial. She was lost. She's from America and signed to me what state she was from but I couldn't understand."

"She's from Massachusetts," Brian said quietly.

Everyone turned and stared at him. "How on earth do you know that?" Roger asked, astonished.

"Because," Brian murmured digging into his bag, throwing a binder onto the table in front of him. "This is an essay she wrote."

No one said anything for a moment, staring at the black binder.

"What's her name then?" John broke the silence.

"Genevieve Henderson."

||||||||

"Have you made any friends yet?"

I shook my head, reaching for the cup of tea in front of me. I had a day off and my neighbor, Mrs. Davidson, invited me over for some brunch. She was one of the few neighbors that attempted to really learn sign language to communicate with me. Apparently, she had a friend in elementary school that was deaf so she wasn't completely unfamiliar with non-verbal communication, even if I wasn't using British sign language.

"Dear, you've been here for two months," she said. "I know making friends must be hard for you, but you said you had some back home!"

Childhood friends. They learned sign language over the years just for me. I can't expect people here to learn it in eight months! I signed frustratedly.

Mrs. Davidson nodded. "That's not unreasonable to think that. But you could still write what you want to say down for them or help them learn the language faster."

I shrugged, running my fingertip around the edge of my porcelain cup. I didn't come to London to make friends anyway. I came to better my writing skills.

I know I'm being bitter, but I just can't help it. 

She sighed, "You won't get lonely? You're here for six more months. I don't think you can go without having at least a single friend."