Real Life or Fantasy? - 'Bohemian Rhapsody', Roger Taylor

BoRhap!

Despite accepting Mal and Rog's relationship, Brian was clearly not so thrilled. His sister saw right through him, though he wasn't being very discrete.

One such time, Mal was sneaking out of Roger's room when Brian came up the stairs. "No need to be so sneaky, not anymore," he informed. "Not like it's a secret anymore."

"Habit, I guess."

Right before she entered her room, his words stopped her.  "I'm sorry, I just don't see it lasting very long." His words were solemn, but honest.

"What the hell's that supposed to mean?" she cried, spinning around to face him.

"Listen, I love Rog, you know I do. But you know how he can be with women... I just don't want to see anyone get hurt."

"Thanks a lot." She slammed her door.

"He'll come around, Darling," Freddie assured her when she told him.

"I'm not so sure. Brian can be so bloody stubborn."

Freddie patted her arm comfortingly. "Give him time."

-------------------------------

"Nothing really matters, anyone can see.  Nothing really matters.  Nothing really matters, to me..."

The final notes of Bohemian Rhapsody drifted through the office.  The band smiled contentedly and proudly.

"Christ," sighed Foster as the last notes faded, only to be snapped back by the sound of the gong at the very end. Roger grinned proudly and Brian gave him a pat on the shoulder.

"Well," began Foster.  "I'm not entirely sure this is the record you promised us."

"Oh it's better than the album we promised you," Freddie assured him. "It's better than any album anyone's ever promised you, Darling. It's a bloody masterpiece."

"You went weeks over schedule for this?" Foster cried, trying to keep composed.

"It's a good album, Ray," defended Reid.

"We prefer 'masterpiece'," said Rog.

"'Bloody masterpiece'," added Mal.

"It's expensive, and as for Bo-hemian Rh-rap-"

"Rhapsody," said Brian with ease.

"Or 'BoRhap' for short," said Mal.  "If you struggle with the name." Which he obviously did.

"What even is that?"

"It's an epic poem," Freddie informed.

"Well, whatever it is, it goes on forever, six bloody minutes."

"Oh, I pity your wife if you think six minutes is forever," shot back Freddie, earning snorts of laughter from the other band members, and a particularly loud one from Paul. "I'm going to release it as our single."

Foster scoffed.  "Not possible.  Anything over three minutes and the radio stations won't program it, period. And what on earth is it about anyway? Scaramouche? Galileo? And all that Ismillah business? Ischmilla?" He couldn't even pronounce the word properly, much like the song title.

"Bismillah," Freddie corrected.

"Galelio Galelli," Rog put in.

"Smart ass," chuckled Mal.

"Well what is it about anyway? Bloody Bismillah?"

"True poetry is for the listener," said Freddie determinedly.