A Roger Taylor Collection

A Killer Queen - Bicycle Race

London, England. August 1973.

3:00 am

You jolt at the sound of your phone ringing in your kitchen, you open your eyes and roll over, falling onto the floor with a loud Thump. You groaned and blindly reached for your bedside table as you tried to get on your feet. You're rushed through your dark apartment and eventually reached the phone on the wall.

You picked up the receiver and fumble it in your hands, it fell to the floor as you tried to catch it. You quickly pull the cord and lift the receiver back up and put it to your ear. You ran your hand through your messy hair and spoke, "Hello...?" Your voice sounds very groggy.

You could hear people talking on the other end and shuffling, the person shushed the voices that were being very loud and rowdy, "Hello, Love"  A voice said seductively. There was more shuffling and you could hear more yelling.

"Give it to me you, Nob!" That was Freddie, you knew that he took the phone from an unrelenting roger, "Would you be quiet! She can barely understand you. Hello, darling—"

You hear some stomping and struggling before their end of the phone dropped, "You are all children!" You could tell that it was Brian, he was more or less the responsible one. He started to strain as if he was holding someone back, "Hi, Y/N" He said laughing passive aggressively.

You sighed, running your hand down your face tiredly, "Hello, Brian. Would you like to give me an answer about why you are calling me in the middle of the night?"

He chuckled at the end of the phone, "Well, it's more like early morning...anyway—I need you to come down to the studio really quick if you don't mind" He was still struggling, grunting to keep someone back.

"Is everything okay? you sound—" You say, but you were cut off by him yelling 'knock it off!' away from the phone.

He was panting and he spoke rushed, "Oh yeah, yep yep yep...everything is—fine!" He sighed, and whispered, "If you could pop on over here that would be peachy"

You yawned over the phone and nodded, you realized he couldn't see you so you spoke to clarify, "ye—yeahh. I'll be there in a little bit"

He muttered a quick 'thank you' and you could hear the fighting going on as the phone banged, cutting off right as someone yelled, "Get over here you cun—"

You chuckled and shook your head, hanging up the phone and walking toward your bathroom to freshen up. You quickly brushed your teeth and hair before putting on some mascara on your washed, and moisturized face. You were wearing a tank top and some panties, actually considering going with just that from you being so tired and comfortable; you decided against it and threw on some jeans over your panties.

You gather somethings and backed your bag, grabbed your shoes and ran out the door; locking it as quickly as possible so you could actually get there before something happens.

You would think after a month of working for these guys and some persistent flirting from Roger than you would be used to this sort of thing by now—you are most definitely not. You had no idea what you had to deal with, or defuse this time and frankly, a small part of you was dreading that they lit something on fire—again.

Really, this past month has been a giant bicycle race, it will never stop; but you don't mind all the hills, it keeps you fit.

————

4:24 am

You raced over to the studio where the guys were and parked your car in the nearest parking space to not waste any time. You grabbed your stuff and hopped out of your car, prepping yourself for whatever lay behind the studios back door that led into the recording space. You knocked on the metal door and heard footsteps coming your way, the door opened and it revealed a tired looking Brian. He smiled softly at you as he led you in the recording space, it smelt like smoke, sweat, and alcohol—all an unpromising combination.