Incorrect Queen stories

"Spread Your Wings"

A/N

Ok so guys, this chapter is going to be very dark. And I'm saying sorry in advanced. But enjoy anyway! Btw this is before he met Ronnie.

2 am:

John laid down on the bed and slowly opened his eyes. He let his gaze fall upon the tiny holes in the ceiling. He started counting them quietly. "...three, four, five. Five holes" he sighed. He stared at the ceiling. There it was again, this suckish feeling of pointlessness. It's the one that makes you wonder if anything's really worth it. John always tried to distract himself from thinking. To keep his mind completely blank. But that was nearly impossible, especially in the middle of the night. John could feel the crippling depression nagging in the back of his mind.
A few more minutes passed.
Then it hit with full force.

John wanted to scream, there were voices everywhere, yelling at him, telling him he should die. Pressing a pillow against his face, he began to scream. His voice only drowned in the ocean of screaming voices.

3 am:

John finally managed to calm down a bit. His eyes were red from crying and his breath was hitched. His throat hurt so much from screaming but he couldn't care less. Nothing would ever get better, John was sure. This is how the rest of his life would be. Just a constant fight against himself. He longed for someone to be there, holding him close, telling him things would get better eventually. But no. John was completely alone. He always was these days.

It all started with Freddie. John remembered the day Freddie had came to them with shining eyes and a wide smile. He had told them very enthusiastically about this new guy, that he met at a club. His voice still echoed in John's mind "He's... special, I can't even describe it! You're gonna adore him!" The memory still hurt a bit, but the worst was yet to come. In a matter of days, Freddie had already began spending less time with the band, and more with his new boyfriend. Brian was the only one who worried a little but Roger shrugged it off. "C'mon let him have his fun" Roger usually joked, wiggling his eyebrows, at which Brian always sighed with annoyance.

John never said anything about it. What could he say? They wouldn't understand. Every time he saw Freddie with that guy, John felt as if someone stabbed him. He wondered how it would feel, being looked at the way Freddie looked at that guy, completely fascinated and almost blind with affection and love. What confused him even more was why he felt so hurt. Why did he even care? If he didn't know better he would call it jealousy.

Every and every day, John had to put on a mask, making sure that he wasn't showing any emotions. But there was one flaw in this. He had to distanced himself from his band mates.

Roger hardly had conflicts with John, but it really got out of hand one day at rehearsal. Roger was really on edge, almost aggressive. He and the others had been arguing about small stuff all day, making the drummer grow more and more annoyed. After a coffee break, when going through one of John's new songs, he had snapped.

"It's too slow Deacy!" He hissed. "No it's not" John had simply replied, not even bothering to look up from his bass. "It's too damn slow it would sound much better if we speed it up a bit." "It's supposed to be like this Rog, trust me" "No! It's shit!" And so they kept going until Roger suddenly jumped up from behind the drums angrily. "Fine! You can play your own fucking drums then!" He yelled and threw the drumsticks at John, before leaving the studio. John was a bit startled, not really knowing how to react. Brian had gave him an apologetic look before running after Rogr to help him calm down. That was the first time he heard it. A little voice telling him he's worthless.

After that there had been a slight tension between Roger and John that really didn't go away for some reason, making everything a bit awkward.

John soon began to notice that even Brian drifted away from him, though he still wasn't sure whether it really was Brian or just himself. John wasn't the most social member in queen, but not being social at all affected him more than he thought it would. He hated feeling lonely. Especially when he could hardly do anything about it, being so damn shy. Now he was lonelier than ever, feeling more like a stranger, even with his friends. This is where the depression really started to settle. Not really bothering him too much at first, but the more days that passed the more it took a hold of him, until finally consuming him completely.

4 am:

"It's my fault" John said out loud into dark room. He caught himself waiting for an answer, for someone to tell him he was wrong, a comforting hand on his shoulder, a reassuring smile. Nothing.
John laughed bitterly. What did he expect? Would anyone care anyway?

"It is my fault" he said again, this time just to confirm the facts. He was the one who distanced himself from the band, not them. He was the one who never talked to them, or anyone. Thinking about it, he probably deserved this. John closed his eyes and took a shaky breath. He had to find a way to cope with this, had to find a way to stop thinking! But how? The voices kept whispering, filling up the room.

"You're nothing"

"You don't deserve friends"

"It's your own fault"

"Nobody cares about you"

"You can might as well die!"

It never stopped. John crouched in the bed, curling into a little ball of sadness.

7 am:

John barely noticed when the first few rays of sunlight found their way into his bedroom. He'd been awake all night, curled up in his bed. John slowly turned around, facing the morning light shining in through his window. He sat up slowly, placing his feet unsteadily on the floor. Rising himself up on shaky legs, he felt himself oddly drawn to the window. John wasn't even aware that he was walking closer toward the window until he stood face to face with the glass. For the first time in what felt like forever, John felt peaceful, looking up to the sky, and narrowing his eyes slightly. The voices that had consumed him earlier had stopped. John's shaky hand reached for the handle, opening the window slowly. A breeze of fresh morning air softly brushed his skin and he let out a sigh. He could hear the early morning birds singing somewhere in the distance. It felt so inviting. John wanted to get closer, so desperate to get closer to the light and further away from the dark room behind. Without hesitation he took a step towards the sun.

A/N

Ok sorry that this chapter was kinda bad, but I had no ideas on what to write about. But honestly, I don't mind this, other than how dark it is. Sorry about the ending tho... :(