YOU [RT] ✓

XVII

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C H A P T E R S E V E N T E E N

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olivia's point of view

six months later

I was currently awaiting the minutes to end before the clock struck 12 to mark the start of the 8th of March, 1974, or more importantly, the release of the boy's second album, Queen II.

I was beyond excited for this release and beyond excited for the boys as I have seen them at their lowest points literally as little as six months ago, and now, here they are, ready to give it a brand new shot at winning a whole new crowd over with their new tracks on the new album.

Saying I was proud was an understatement, you can tell by looking at these boys when they come home at seven in the morning from the studio that they poured their hearts out into the work they created the previous night. I kid you not, I see it in Roger every morning he comes home.

Sitting in the studio with Mary and watching them converse made my insides turn into mush at how cute they were when they would just be best friends instead of arguing, and how nervous they would get over the smallest things, like if EMI would release it right on 12am. It made my heart flutter.

Mary and I were sitting in comfortable silence watching them from afar as they were in the recording booth sitting on the drum rises, slowly sipping on an alcoholic beverage, not wanting to get so pissed drunk before the release at 12.

They decided it'd be nice to be in the studio while the album dropped as this is where they 'created the magic of the album', as Mary and I would say. They commonly ignored us whenever we made that remark, not thinking too high of themselves 'just yet', as they would say.

I was watching Roger, how he conversed with his best friends, more like brothers perhaps. How happy they made him. After our very memorable talk maybe half a year back, he took on every new day with the same positive attitude, making through some days with the positive attitude he started with, others in a grumpy mood from an argument and others with bruises and blood on his knuckles from punching a wall. We could never see what the day would bring, but one thing minimised.

His drinking.

It was great to see that he didn't immediately run to the poison if he was ever in need of getting something off his chest or if his thoughts made his mind foggy. He gave himself time and would either talk, or mope around until he exploded and probably punched something. I preferred that over the drink.

I leaned forward to the table from the lounge, topping up Mary and I's wine glasses as it was 11:15 and we would most likely finish it before the boys popped a bottle of champagne or dragged us along bar hopping after the album dropped in forty five minutes.

"Cheers to enjoyment through being lazy and not conversing with that lot over there." I said to her in which she chuckled in agreement.

"Cheers to exactly that." She said as we clinked glasses, sitting back and taking a rather large gulp.

The boys went silent, but we didn't notice over our own conversation. They couldn't hear what we were saying, which made me comfortable that they didn't know our thoughts over the topic of conversation we were having.

"How's Freddie?" I asked Mary, putting my glass down and leaning back into the couch.

"He's great, we're so in love. I can't believe he came after me, looking for me at work. He won me over with the smallest of that gesture, trying on something extravagant in the change room. It really was magnificent, you might spot it on stage sooner or later."