A Roger Taylor Collection

A Killer Queen - You're My Bestfriend

London, England. June 1970.

You finished getting ready. Tonight was to be a 'Night on the town' as your close friend said to you. He was taking you to a nightclub and you couldn't wait, you were celebrating your one-year of being best mates and he insisted it was his treat for uni graduation.

The phone of your apartment rang for the 5th time and you knew who it was. You smiled and rushed over, sliding on your socks the rest of the way and ending up almost slipping at the end. When you picked up the receiver you pressed the phone to your ear and move over to the window, he was leaning on the phone booth.

"Darling, get your sorry butt down here and give me a hug..." You giggled at his obnoxious voice through the phone.

"Oh I'm sorry, I'm waiting for someone else. I've got a hot date, love, and he will be here any minute" You say looking down at the figure in the phone booth across the street, laughing at the sassy eye roll he was sure to give you.

He scoffed, "What is his name? A hot date you say?"

You smiled at him looking up at your window, "Well he is named Freddie and we met one year ago in the showers at uni and love, you are the hottest date around"

June 1969. Imperial College London

You couldn't stop the beat in your steps and the excited rythum in your feet as you walk down the halls of your dorm house, you always get this way after you have a mint jam session in the music hall late at night — or, 4:00 in the early hours of the morning, rather. It's not that you have anything against letting off steam in the normal hours of the day, it's more along the lines of not necessarily being allowed to drum in your school with restricted equipment that is technically illegal for you to use without the professor of the musical arts department's permission and supervision.

Let's just say you have been arrested once or twice and have been banned from using it because of the incident of 1968. Things got broken, those things were expensive.

Anyway, you walked along bobbing your head to a beat you just composed, shuffling your feet along the obnoxious green, yellow and beige carpet of the Imperial College London. It sounds posh, I know. You jammed your way to your dorm room where you grab your shower stuff, you were quite sweaty, to say the least, and you made your way down to the female shower room where hot, steaming bliss awaited your tired arms and legs.

You started to sing a tune of a new Janis Joplin song and stood in front of one of the many mirrors, you took your hair down and shook it out, taking note of the way you beamed in the dimly lit bathroom. Music truly made you happy.

"Didn't I make you feel..." You sang slow and deep, just like Janis did in her 'Cheap Thrills' vinyl, "Like you were the only man, yeah"

"Didn't I give you everything that a woman possibly can?" You spin your body around and shed your clothes, making a messy trail to the shower furthest from the door, the early morning light painted the room a beautiful warm ambiance of oranges and pinks.

"But with all the love I give ya, It's never enough. But I'm gonna show you, baby, that a woman can be tough" You mimicked playing the drums.

You spin with your hair full of shampoo and sing loudly, "I want you to come on, come on, come on, come on and take it!" Without missing a single beat, you continued the song until you felt off. You couldn't place your finger on it until you heard it.

You gasped and jumped loudly at a voice and a faint tapping, it got louder and you came to the conclusion that you had an audience due to the applause you received. You quickly washed the conditioner out of your hair in a rush, you were almost done anyway.