No One But You

17. Mr. Reid

Roger

"I'll be back in a couple of hours," I tell Maddie.

She cups my face with her hands, kissing me softly.

"Good luck," she whispers. "I want to hear everything when you get back,"

"Of course," I tell her. I kiss her again...and again, and again, and again. She pushes me away.

"Get out of here," she laughs.

I give her one last wave before walking out of her flat to Brian's car.

John Reid had contacted again and we officially made plans to meet with him at this restaurant downtown. Brian, John and I are carpooling whereas Freddie is driving. He was across town so we figured it'd be easier. 

"Nervous, mate?" Brian asks when I climb in.

I shake my head. I probably should be, but I'm not. He already expressed interest in us so what more is there? We'll just have to be ourselves. 

"Not a lick," I tell Brian. 

The ride is not as bad as I thought it would be. It takes us thirty minutes, but we hit a little bit of traffic on the way. The restaurant also looks nice. We only ordered drinks, skipping the food. I wouldn't mind coming back, maybe taking Maddie out here. We haven't been on an actual date in a while. It's always been me going over to her flat and eating there. Sometimes she comes by Bri and I but I like our alone time. I love Bri but I don't want him to hear me shag my girl.

"I didn't realize it was fancy dress," Brian comments, interrupting my thoughts. 

I look over to see Freddie walking up to us, in this..interesting looking white jacket with a blue shirt underneath. 

"You look like an angry lizard," John tells him.

"I've got to make an impression, darlings," Freddie says, smiling and waving his arms around. He joins us at the round table, sitting at the head. 

"It's nice Fred," Brian says, the rest os us laughing. Even Freddie has a smile on his face. "Very subtle,"

"From far away maybe," John mutters. 

I take a sip from my drink. I have no idea what it is - Deaky ordered it for me - but it doesn't taste horrible. It's sweeter than I would have picked out, but refreshing. 

"You must be Queen," a man says, walking up to the table. He smiles at us as he takes the empty chair. Another man besides him stands by his side. "I'm John Reid. It's a pleasure to meet you,"

He looks professional. He has a sharp three-piece blue suit on. His partner, on the other hand, has on a leather jacket and he sports this weird looking mustache. 

"This is another manager who works with me, Paul Prenter," Reid says. Paul waves. I don't know, something about him puts me off but I'm trying to push past that. "We've heard your music, and we're big fans. We want to work with you," Reid sits back in his seat and crosses one leg over another. "So tell me, what makes Queen different from all the other want-to-be rockstars I meet?"

Freddie leans forward in his chair, leaning his elbows on the table.

"Tell you what it is, Mr. Reid," Freddie says. "Now we're four misfits who don't belong together, playing for the other misfits. They're the outcasts right at the back of the room who are pretty sure they don't belong either. We belong to them,"

Well damn, Freddie. I couldn't have said it better even if I tried. And good thing I didn't try, because John Reid was sold and officially agreed to be Queen's manager.