Killer Queen | Ben Hardy

12. i want to break free

    I sigh, pulling my hands from his. "I told you, Rog, I'm busy." My words are faint, but he acknowledges their finality. He doesn't try to stop me as I turn from his direction.
    These wounds are still fresh, but with time—with time, they'll heal.
    I'm halfway to the kitchen when I hear the entrance door open. I don't look back, assuming Roger has given up and left. But oddly enough, I hear new footsteps enter the foyer, accompanied by a voice I know too well. "Roger, what's taking so bloody long in here?"
    The familiar voice of Freddie Mercury carries throughout the restaurant. I'm immediately stopped in my venture toward the kitchen; I momentarily forget my anger.
    "Fred!"
    Freddie's eyes meet mine in the exact moment I spin around to face him, and he cracks one of those crooked smiles I've thoroughly missed. He extends his arms out, but I beat him to it, already across the restaurant and pulling him into an embrace.
    I had grown close to Freddie during my time with the band. Besides Roger, Freddie had become my closest confidant; it was no doubt hard on both of us when he left for tour.
    "Dani, I've missed you, my friend." He pats my back as I, in turn, express how much I've missed him too.
    But Freddie must remember the other pair of eyes on us, because he clears his throat as he loosens his grip on me. As I pull away from him, he locks eyes with Roger. "Did you tell her?"
    "She won't listen."
    I sigh with exasperation as I stand between both Freddie and Roger. "Now you too, Freddie?" I ask with a roll of my eyes, my irritation growing by the second. "Look," I begin, glancing at both boys, "Whatever nonsense you two are going on about, I don't want to hear it."
    "But, Dani—"
    "No." I cut off Roger, holding up my hand to physically tell him to quit it.
    The following silence in the room is broken by Freddie not so subtly clearing his throat. "Roger," he begins delicately, "Would you mind going back to the bus for a moment?" Roger opens his mouth to protest, but Freddie silences him with a firm stare.
    When Roger doesn't move, Freddie again nods toward the door. Roger seems to cave, as he lowers his head and sighs, clearly not pleased with how our exchange turned out. But what did he expect—that I'd be thrilled to seem him after he kicked me to the curb?  In defeat, he walks toward the door and exits without another word.
    Now alone with Freddie, I exhale the breath I didn't realize I was holding. I feel I need to mull over the fact of seeing Roger for the rest of the day, yet Freddie wastes no time in pulling me to the side.
    He sits me down at a booth while my head continues to spin. "Alright, unfortunately we don't have much time," he begins, but pauses when he sees my mind is in a far-away place.
    But how am I to be expected to hear his words, when Roger just—no, all of this is happening too fast for my liking.
    "Dani, I know you're freaking out, but I need you to focus."
    "I can't, Fred," I interject. I suddenly have the overwhelming urge to break down and sob, or maybe scream, or maybe just punch the adjacent wall.
    My head collapses in my hands, but Freddie won't allow it. "No," he says plainly, and grabs my hands from my face.
    I scowl at him as I crane my neck to face him. Why won't he just let me wallow?
    "There's no time for tears. You can cry on the bus."
    This catches my attention. I pull my wrists from his grip and straighten myself back in my chair. The frustration in me simmers long enough for me to finally hear what he's saying. "Why would I be on your tour bus?"
    "Good, now you're listening," he says with a satisfied smile. He completely ignores my question, but I shake it off with a roll of my eyes. "So, Dani," he begins again, "Roger really wanted to tell you this, but seeing as you're being rather difficult at the moment," he trails off.
    I raise my eyebrows and let out a noise of disbelief. "And are you implying that I don't have a reason to be? He abandoned me for over six months, and—"
    "Hush, I know, darling," he says as he holds up a finger to my lips—one I immediately swat away. I frown at him and his eyes soften. "Look, you don't need to tell me. I've been barking at him the past few months too. But for now, just listen."
    I huff and cross my arms over my chest. Of course, the one friend I have in the present won't let me rant and blow off some well-needed steam. But I decide to let him speak. For one thing, because he seems sincere in his understanding of my anger, but also because there is a frantic look in his eyes—he is genuinely trying to tell me something dire.
    "We'll explain in depth later, but in short, our record is doing well—extremely well, actually."
    I roll my eyes. "How humble of you."
    Freddie chuckles. "But the point is, instead of taking holiday like we initially planned, we're going straight into our next tour. We're going to be touring the United States for the next twelve months."
    I nod along with his words. "And?"
    "And we're supposed to be on a flight to New York," he pauses, looking back at the clock on the wall, "Now."
    I raise my eyebrows in disbelief. "Then why on Earth are you here?" I ask, not putting two and two together.
    "Dani, don't you get it? We're here for you."
    My eyes widen as my mouth rests agape, unsure of what to say.
    "We weren't even supposed to stop in London," Freddie explains further, "But Roger managed to convince everyone."
    I shake my head with confusion. "Why—" I fumble to find the words, but come up blank.
    "Like I said, Roger really wanted to tell you this, but I guess I have to." He pauses for a moment, considering how to phrase his next statement. "We have a job offering for you."
    "Huh?" I ask, now entirely confused.
    Freddie shakes his head. "I'm not entirely sure; Roger knows more of the logistics of it all. But it's a position as a member of the crew, to help with the set." He pauses for a beat. "That is what you do, right?"
    "Lighting and sound," I respond plainly, skeptical as to all that he's saying.
    "Yes, great. And there's an opening for manager of the crew."
    "Manager? That can't be right," I respond, my voice raising a few octaves due to incredulity.
    "Oh, I don't know, maybe you'll work up to it. Roger knows all about it, not me." He wrings his hands together, and I can hear him tapping his foot under the table. "All I know is we need to be on a flight to New York—now. So are you in, or are you out?"
    I shake my head, not comprehending what he's saying. "You're asking me to just leave my entire life behind on a whim? Do you know how crazy you sound?"
    "Honey, you won't be missing much here," he gestures to the empty restaurant, and I roll my eyes again. He acts as if my life is completely insignificant.
    "It's not just this. It's my friends, my apartment," I trail off, looking for more to support my case, but coming up blank.
    "Oh, I've seen you're apartment, you'll survive without. And Daisy can visit," he says, remembering her from the countless times she visited the studio. "We'll fly her in every weekend if you'd like."
    "Freddie, I can't—" I trail off, looking for words to convince me to stay. Words that will hold me to this drab town because I'm too afraid to embrace change and find the courage to leave.
    "Dani, answer me honestly. Do you like your job?"
    "No, I hate it." I answer without even thinking. My cheeks turn a shade of pink as his eyes suggest that he's proven his point already.
    "And this job, we're graciously offering you, completely fits your chosen career path?"
    "Yes, but—"
    "Dani, I know you. If you don't say yes, you'll regret it." He pauses, letting his words sink in.
    He lets me think over his offer for a moment as he pushes himself to his feet. He looks back at me, where I have begun incessantly tapping my nails against the table.
    To my surprise, I'm seriously contemplating his offer. It's the exact opportunity I've been dying to come my way, why is there even a question in my mind of whether to stay or go?
    Freddie sighs, "You have complete control in you decision. But remember that there is nothing concrete holding you here—only your own fear."
    I take one deep breath before forcing my legs to stand, and as if on cue, Richard emerges from his office.
    "Dani, you still haven't cleaned the toilet. Get back to work."
    His voice is far away, but it still sounds like nails on a chalkboard. "Piss off, Richard. Can't you see I'm in the middle of a conversation?"
    I hoped to have shut him up, but he never seems to quit. "I won't have you talking to me like that, Dani." He attempts to be threatening with his tone of voice, yet he hides just beyond the doorway of his office, as if he's too scared to talk to me face-to-face.
    I bite my tongue as I shake my head. I glance at Freddie with an apologetic look, but he just offers me an understanding smile.
    "Did you hear me? Don't make me have to fire you, you know I will."
    His words strike a chord in me, and after all these years, I finally snap. I look at Freddie for a moment and then out the window where I see the band's tour bus parked just outside. You know what, screw this. It's time I take a risk—do something spontaneous. I have this terrible urge to be reckless and brash; to do something worth remembering. So I turn to Richard, and an easy smile lights up my face. "You know what, Dick, you don't have to fire me. I quit." I tear the apron from around my waist and let it fall to the floor, as I see Richard's jaw drop. A weight feels as if it's been lifted from my shoulders, and his dumbfounded expression gives me all the satisfaction in the world.
    I don't wait to hear Richard's response, because I turn to Freddie who already wears a knowing grin. "Does this mean—?"
    My face cracks into its own happy grin as I mutter the words that will alter the course of the rest of my life. "I'm in."

~•~

author's note:
i'm being honest when i say that i have no idea if my readers will still be here for this story. i haven't updated in so long, but i'm going to continue writing again.
i chose a good time to take a break, because the upcoming chapters will be a new stage of this book. if this book was a play, this chapter would be the last scene of act 1.
that being said, please privately message me with ideas for where this book should head, or details you'd like me to include. i will seriously consider your suggestions if you give them!
if anyone is still reading this book, thank you! you guys rock!