Real Life or Fantasy? - 'Bohemian Rhapsody', Roger Taylor

We're All Legends

The band was rehearsing  their Live Aid set, currently practicing Hammer to Fall.  Freddie's voice cracked when he tried to reach the note in the song.

"Let's call it," said John. Everyone agreed and stopped playing and singing. 

"Sorry," Freddie apologized.   "I sound like shit.  You all are lovely, and me, well... My throat feels like a vulture's crotch."

"That's very specific," laughed Mal. "Don't worry Fred, your voice has never failed you before.  You'll be great."

"Thanks, Darling."

"Yeah, and we're good.  We've still got a week," added John. "Still thinking of getting that drink, Rog?" 

"Yeah, there's a nice little pub down the road, actually."

"Just leave it to Rog to know all the best pubs." Mal kissed his cheek.

"Can I come?" Brian asked.

"Eh, I don't know..." joked Mal. 

"Before you leave," stepped-in Freddie.

"You not going to join us, Fred?" Mal asked.

"I don't think so. Can I have a moment?"

"Sure."

"Yeah, of course."

"What is it?"

Freddie was silent before answering. "I've got it."

"Got what?"

"Aids."

His declaration hovered in the air, sudden and still. There was a collective intake of sharp breath following this reveal.  

"I wanted you to hear it from me."

Freddie's words were a gut-punch. No one said anything for a long moment, and then all started talking at once. 

"Oh, no-"

"Oh, Fred-"

"Fred, I'm so sorry," Brian began, but Freddie cut him off.

"Brian please, don't. Right now, it's between us, alright, just us." The others nodded.  "So please, if any of you fuss about it, or frown about it, or, worst of all, if you bore me with your sympathies, that's just seconds wasted.  Seconds that can be used to make music, which is all I want to do with the time I have left. I don't have time to be their victim, their Aids poster boy, their cautionary tale - no, I decide who I am. I'm going to be what I was born to be:  a performer, who gives the people what they want-" He pointed upwards, his voice just above a whisper when he spoke next. "-A touch of the heavens. Freddie fucking Mercury."

"Hear, hear," said Mal. 

"You're a legend, Fred," Rog told him. The others nodded in full agreement.

"You're bloody right I am. We're all legends," Freddie declared. "But you're right, I am a legend."

This earned him a chuckle. Mal's chuckling however, quickly turned into a sob she had been trying to hold back, but failed.

"I'm sorry, Fred, I'm sorry. I'm already doing what you told us not to." She wiped at her eyes, smudging her eye shadow and mascara.

"Oh, come here, Darling." Freddie opened his arms and pulled her into a tight hug. The others soon followed, and it turned into a big band group-hug. "Even though you're all crying like children, I still love you."

"We love you too."

"Now, you give me a chance to get my bitchy little vocal cords in order and we'll go and punch a hole through the roof of that stadium."

"Actually, Wembley doesn't have a roof," said John.

"He's right, it doesn't," chuckled Brian tearfully.

"Alright then. Then we'll go and punch a hole right through the sky."  

"Love you, Fred," said Mal. 

"Love you too, Darling.   And hey, even when I'm gone, there will always be Queen.  Always.  Because of you lot.  You'll all keep her going, keep her alive."

"Of course, Fred. But let's not discuss that now," said Brian.  "First, Wembley."

"Wembley it is."

(Sobs. Love you, Fred! Thank you for everything you've done!

Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! :))