Sheer Heart Attack

Chapter thirty-five.

"Freddie, What is it like seeing your song at number one?" a reporter asks.

"It's wonderful, darling; however, I must say that it is Queen's song. Yes, I wrote it but it wouldn't be where it was without these guys," Fred smoothly answers.

"Is your record going to sell more than the Led Zeppelin?" another asks.

"Well, I hope so," Brian chuckles. "Why did you write, Your my best friend, Freddie?"

"Our bassists, John wrote that. I'm not the only one who can write songs, dear," Fred corrects him.

The reporter looks to John, awaiting his answer. "It's about my wife," he says, leaning into the microphone.

"Roger, did you write any songs? What about one for that girl out there?" a lady in the front asks.

"Uh, I do have one on the album. It was released with Bohemian Rhapsody actually. No, it's not about a girl, it's about a car," I hear Roger says.

Even though I can't see Freddie, I can practically feel him rolling his eyes.

The questions roll in and it seems to go on for hours. "You seem bored, want to get a drink?" Mary asks me. "I would love that, but Rog said I can't leave without him," I tell her.

"We'll be back before they are even done," she convinced me. "Are you sure?" I ask. "Yeah, come on. He won't even know you left," she assures me.

"Ok, lets go," I give in. She smiles and grabs my hand. We quickly walk away before we are caught.

We make our way to the main ballroom and find the bar. Mary orders two coke and vodkas for us.

We wait for five minutes before I speak up, "Mary, this is taking a while. We need to head back."

"Don't worry. The press will be bothering them for quite a while more. Besides, I could use some time away from Freddie," she mumbles the last part.

"Are you two fighting again?" They are always acing little arguments, but ever since Mary told me about him being off, it's gotten worse.

Fred always denies it when I ask him, but I know something is going on between them.

"I just can hardly stand it anymore, Ellie. He's always acting up and he doesn't ever want to talk about it. I don't even know what's wrong," she lets it all out.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Mary. He's probably just stressed and excited about this album," I tell her. Putting a reassuring hand on her arm.

"That's what I keep telling myself," she sighs. I look at her with sympathy about to say something else when someone taps my shoulder.

"Hello, you must be Ellie Richards, the photographer for Queen?" He asks. "Yes, that's me," I say, putting on a fake smile.

"I'm Micheal Welsh. I own the largest studio and photo business in Kensington. I have seen a few of your pictures in the papers of the band, and I'm very interested in your work," he puts out a hand and I shake it.

"Well thank you, I'm flattered," I say. I can't believe someone with a high profile like him is impressed with my work.

What if he hires me? "Here's my card. I'd like for you to stop by and give the studio a look around, see if you are interested in taking a job," he says, handing me his business card.

"Thank you sir, this is wonderful," I tell him. He nods his head and turns back to the bar.

"Did you hear that, Mary?" I turn back to her. "That's amazing, Ellie," she smiles, but I notice the smile doesn't quite reach her eyes.