Looking back, I like to say I didn't expect it.
When I stumbled into that room, my dress soaked in liquor, I expected I'd find an empty bathroom to hopefully clean myself up in. Yet, I found what I least expected to see. Two familiar faces, tangled in a heated make out session. The situation almost made me bark out a laugh at how predictable it was.
But, let's back up a bit.
It's Christmas Eve, 1972, and the night had just begun. The sun had dipped behind the thick clouds, and fresh darkness was creeping slowly across the sky. I was leaning into the bathroom mirror, coating my lips in a scarlet red that I felt fit the occasion. Freddie was having a "small" gathering at his flat- very personal, he claimed- but we all knew it'd be overflowing with people before eleven o'clock rolled around. "Small" and "personal" just weren't words associated with Freddie.
A terrible, incessant noise filled my ears as I adjusted my lipstick. It was Roger, banging his fists against the closed bathroom door repeatedly. "Come on, Thea! You've been in there for hours."
I rolled my eyes. "It's only been five minutes, Rog, hold on a second."
He let out a long groan that rumbled in his chest, and after a final once-over I opened the door. Roger stopped short when he saw me, eyes drinking me in. I wore a low cut, ruby red dress that clung to my skin, the fabric ending high on my thigh. Josy had lent it to me, and it was much tighter on my body, seeing as she was a tad smaller than I was. I pulled the skirt down a bit, moving from the doorway to the hall so Roger could get to the bathroom.
Roger let out a long, low whistle, and my cheeks went hot. "Jesus," he said.
"What?"
"I'm afraid if I say, you'll slap me. But it'd be a compliment, don't worry." With that, the blonde disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door between us. I was left a bit dazed, but shook it off quickly.
I proceeded to the living room to pull on my shoes and jacket. A jacket would kind of ruin the look, I worried, but it was much too cold outside to go without one. Also, the straps on my dress were unbelievably thin and provided no warmth whatsoever.
My roommate came bounding down the hall, energetic and ready to go. He was dressed in a typical outfit of his- tight pants, loose, unbuttoned shirt to expose his chest. "Ready?" His eyes were bright, excited. Freddie's "gatherings" were never something to miss, and even the most antisocial beings could have fun at one of them. I nodded in answer, and the two of us split a cab on the way to Freddie's flat.
As we approached his door, I could already hear music blaring from underneath, smell cigarette smoke, and hear tons of laughing, chattering voices. Roger and I glanced at each other, and the blonde grabbed my wrist as we made our way inside.
"Just the two I wanted to see!" a musical voice exclaimed as we stepped inside. Freddie Mercury was dressed extravagantly, practically glowing even though the light was dim. His flat was filled to the brim with dancing, mingling bodies, smoke decorating the air. He suddenly held up a camera, the flash going off in our faces before we could dodge it.
"It's mandatory," Freddie said, lowering the camera with a grin. The polaroid spit out a picture, and he pulled it out, squinting at the foggy image. "I'll put it somewhere safe. Drinks are over there, help yourself."
"Fred, have you seen Josy?" I asked, while I still had his attention.
Something unrecognizable flickered in the singer's eyes, but it was gone before I could process it. "She couldn't make it. Didn't tell me why," he sang, and with that he was off, disappearing into the clusters of strangers.
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𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 | roger taylor
Fanfiction"this thing called love, i just can't handle it." (roger taylor x oc) (slow-burn) ♡