The Love You Give. | Roger Taylor ✔️

Missed. (57)

July, 1985

It's been a year since Freddie left Queen in the dust and none of you heard a thing from him.

"You said it would only be a year." Roger mumbled, laying in bed next to you. "I'm not a a psychic, Roger." You rolled your eyes at him. "What's your rush?" You asked. "I just really want to beat the hell out of my drums." He said. "Then go ahead." You said. "Will you come with me?" He asked, you sighed and got up. "Let's go." You snapped and walked over to Roger's home built recording studio. Roger sat behind the drums and twirled around his drumming sticks. He started to aggressively play the drums, making the whole room shake. After 30 minutes, Roger threw the drumsticks on the floor and walked over to you, dropping onto the couch.

 Roger rolled his eyes as he saw your worried face. "Go call him." He growled. You ran out of the studio, downstairs into the kitchen and dialed Freddie's house. "Hello?" Paul said, for once you were slightly relieved to hear his annoying voice. "Hey, Paul. Can i speak to Freddie?" You said. "I'm so sorry, he's just so busy lately. I'm blue in the face trying to get him to do something else then the album." Paul said, you sighed. "Tell him i called?" You asked. "Of course." Paul said and hung up. You picked up the phone, as it rang for a second. "Yes!" You said, a pinch of annoyance in your voice. "Called Freddie about Live Aid, but Paul answered so you know he's gonna tell him." Miami said. "Fucking hell." You said. "This is once in a life time thing." You said. "Believe me, i know. Somebody is going to have to go to his house sooner or later." Miami said. "Except none of us have the balls." You added. "Freddie will have to listen to us one day." Miami said. "Well, we can kiss Live Aid goodbye." You said. "We can kiss Freddie goodbye." Miami said, taking a deep breath. "I have to go, maybe i'll try to call Freddie a few more times." He said and hang up.

"Love? Come to bed." Roger called out, you sighed and walked to your room, laying in bed. You soon fell asleep with Roger in your arms, just to be waken up by the same nightmare you had about Freddie dying a few years ago. With a scream, you sat up. "What the hell?" Roger said, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. You laid down on your back. "Nightmare.. Freddie.." You whispered, feeling Roger's hand on your shoulder. "Calm down." He softly said and you closed your eyes.

You woke up and saw light outside the window, so you walked down to the kitchen and saw Roger making breakfast with furrowed eyebrows.

"What's wrong." You asked, walking behind him and placing your chin on his shoulder. "Nothing." He replied. "Something is clearly wrong." You said, to which he moved his shoulder, meaning for you to get off. "Everything is grand." He said, not making eye contact. "Is it because of Live Aid?" You said, sitting down on the counter next to the stove. "Yes, alright?" He said, looking you in the eyes. "Why is Fred ignoring Miami's calls about it! It's fucking frustrating." Roger said, turning off the stove and moving the pan to the side. "He's not, it's just Paul is not letting him answer calls." You said, grabbing Roger by the hands. "Then why the hell won't somebody go to his house and tell him!" Roger whined, you shrugged. 

"You know what? I want nothing to do with Freddie, i'm the rest feel the same. Yes, i am pissed, but that doesn't matter." Roger said. "Final decision?" You asked, he proudly nodded.

You and Roger took a nap on the couch, which was cut short by you having another nightmare about Freddie. Shocking. You glared at the clock. You ran into the kitchen, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen. On it you wrote: 'Gone to Freddie's. Be back in an hour, love.' Signing your name at the bottom of the message, you dropped the pen down and put on your shoes. No time for a coat. Big mistake. You ran outside, to a parked taxi and got in, telling the driver where you're going. "It's late, miss. Going somewhere important?" The driver asked. "Y-yes.." You stuttered.

"How close are we?" You asked, growing impatient as the traffic didn't move. "Close." The driver vaguely said. You looked out the window and recognized the area. With a big groan, you gave money to the driver and looked out the window with uncertainty in your eyes. "Good luck! Hope you don't catch a cold." The driver said as you stepped onto the road, into the pouring rain. You ran onto the sidewalk and started running to his house. ""Y/n!" A familiar voice called out. You turned around and saw Mary standing by a taxi who was stuck in the traffic. "Mary!" You ran back to her. "What are you doing here?" She asked, looking at your now soaked hair. You were about to answer but she beat you to it.

"I'm pregnant." She said, your eyes grew wide. "You're what?!" You shouted. "A little more enthusiasm, thank you." Mary rolled her eyes. "Sorry.. It's just- i'm just.. shocked." You manged to say. "I know.. Freddie didn't take the news that well." Mary mumbled. "You talked to Freddie?!" You shouted, she nodded. "Yeah.. i had a dream about him and went to tell him.. he.. has done some things." She sighed. "What 'things'?" You asked. "Are you going to his house?" She asked, you nodded. "Then.. you'll see. It's worrying." She said and got back into the taxi as the traffic started flowing.

You continued to run to his house.

You almost fell to the ground after someone bumped into you. "Excuse you!" You said. "Sorry." A light whispered escaped the persons lips. You grabbed their shoulder and turned them around, pulling them into a hug.

I've been watching a lot of EastEnders lately and i'm trying to convince myself not to write a Peter Beale book before the Ben Hardy book