May You Imagine || Brian May

Summer turns me upside down (Part 3)

A/N: Hello everyone. Here is the next installment to Summer Turns Me Upside Down. So much about doing a one-shot story! As always, tell me what you think, don't keep it to yourself. Thank you for all the attention on this book, it is why I keep writing.

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 * Are we in the clear yet? *

I stand on the spot for a few moments, dumbfounded. What just happened? What got into Brian? Did he mean what he said? Did he mean what he almost did? We were so close, it felt so magical. It ended so fast, the only reason I know I am not imagining it all is the very physical reaction I am still having to his presence.

The thud of his door closing downstairs is like a rude awakening. I have to talk to him! I run down, the old wooden staircase creaking and moaning. I squint at the faint golden light escaping under his door. Why did he hide in there?

"Bri! Brian!" I knock on his door uncertainly. He doesn't respond. I knock again, more assertively.

"What do you want, Olivia?" My heart breaks at how forlorn his tone is. Why?

"Can I come in?" I plead.

"Now is not a god time." He murmurs on the other side of the door.

"Why not?" I ask, upset.

"Because I'm changing." He answers me sheepishly. "For the party, you know."

Oh. Since when does he care about what outfit to pick for a party?

"Well, how long does it take you to change? I can help?" I suggest, astonished by my own daringness.

"No, n-no you can't." He stammers. "I'm naked."

I push the visuals flooding my mind away and demand a logical explanation:

"You strip butt-naked to get ready for a party? Do you always do that?" I can't hide my disbelief.

There is some shuffling and a heavy sigh from inside Brian's room.

"Look, Olivia, I don't wanna talk right now. Just come back when it's time for us to go out, please."

I would be mad at him if he wasn't breaking my heart.

"Brian?" I ask, my voice cracking. "Brian?"

He doesn't answer. I stand there for a few minutes until I can feel a small tear prickle in my eyes and quickly wipe it away.

"Fine. Be that way." I sigh and head back to my room. I have a heavy feeling in my chest because I know him all too well. He is not the kind of guy you can get to just open up about his feelings. He is very bad at talking about his emotions, if I ever try to prod too much, he just changes the subject or jokes around until I leave him alone. Lately I see him not just strum his guitar, but also scribble lyrics on random bits of paper. Whenever I've tried to peek at them, he immediately scrunches them up and shoves the notes into his pockets. I've considers pulling them out, as a joke, but the man keeps his most prized possessions in his front pant pocket. Right next to his, you know what. And I have no business there.

Of course, I am dying to find out what he is writing. A poem? A song? I love his voice, even though he thinks it's nothing much. It's soothing and melancholy and filled with some kind of wistful longing. I wish I could hear more of it, if only he would let me.

I lay in my bed for a while, reflecting on the enigma that Brian is and wondering if I will ever get to know what is really going on under that big unruly mess of curls. I must have drifted off at some point, because by the time I open my eyes again, the room is almost dark.