always & forever // maylor

brian

it's 4am and my brain won't sleep. My head hurts, i'm tired but i dont dare to close my eyes because i know he'll be there, mocking me, afraid of me.

i'll start at the beginning.

roger taylor was perfect. the essence of an angel child, blonde hair, blue eyes. i, on the other hand was the opposite, dark brown hair that wouldn't keep itself in place. brian may. badger boy. but opposites attract, and we had been friends forever. childhood besties. then we grew up. roger started sleeping around, countless girlfriends. i, well, didn't get a lot of that kind of action. i think my slight disadvantage in that department was that i was gay. yup. brian may, the sad, curly nerd just added another thing onto the endless list of things he could be teased about: his terribly hidden homosexuality. then, i started playing guitar, and somehow that added rather a lot of appeal to me, so i was no longer 'badger boy'. i joined a band with roger. things were just like the 'good old days'. i got a girlfriend, rather a bore but nice eyes. i supposed they reminded me of roger's a bit. then, right when life was going good, my lovely homosexuality decided to pop back up and guess who for? roger taylor. the drummer of my band, chick magnet and also my best fucking friend. you know, just as an added bonus. afterwards, everything started to go downhill. tim left out band and my stupid little crush wouldnt go away. roger said he might leave and things were starting to look like i'd be alone once again. then freddie came along and saved me. the band reformed, and soon enough we were queen. and guess what was still sitting in my brain? my stupid crush on roger. less of a crush now, i dont think after 6 months you can call it a crush. not soon after that we were famous, i suppose. i dont know how we went fron spending three months wages on a session at a recording studio to a breakout hit, but there we were. i remember when we recorded seven seas of rhye and the first time i fucked up because i was looking at roger. he was concentrating. he looked pretty. after that, we were on tv. it was all a bit of a rush to be honest. and joining me on the jourmey all the way was my lovely crush on roger. i didnt really want to admit it, but it was probably like a sort of one-sided love by now. i think if i did admit it to myself i'd end up tearing myself apart. which, in a way is how i ended up. one day, we were moved to a farm to do our recording. i had this tiny glimmer of hope that without any girls around, maybe, just maybe he would notice me. he didnt though, and the little tiny bit of hope i had found shattered back into non-existance. we were world famous now. more girls for roger. more men for me? i remember trying to chat up a guy in a bar fred dragged me to. didnt work. i sat in a corner and read for the rest of that night before driving a heroically shitfaced freddie back to his house. soon after, roger brought home his girlfriend, dominique. i assumed it was another fling. then after a few weeks they were still together. then a month. then six. by then i had given up. on their year anniversary roger took her out for dinner and then told me all about it the next day. i cried internally, wishing it was me. a few weeks after that, they broke up. i expected him to bounce back up from it, like usual. he didnt. he wouldnt come out of his room. he wouldnt talk to me, or freddie or deaky. then one day, after weeks, he just appeared outside my door to tell me we were going to a bar. and we were getting drunk.

he started complimenting me. i smiled. returned a few. denied a few. i guess thats how you flirt? i think it worked. the comments got progressively more suggestive until he was kissing me. my brian stopped working properly because it was full of alcohol so i just kissed back. there wasn't any rational thinking involved, and to be honest, that was good. just acting, not thinking. then he snapped me out of my mind wandering because he wasn't kissing me anymore. then i remembered to breathe and before i knew it he was taking my hand and walking out of the bar.

i wake up next to him. i needed to think but my brain was horribly hungover. then i realise im naked. skip the thinking. so's he. i try to just walk away, but he's awake already. he says its a mistake. i tried to tell him we were drunk but he wouldn't listen. he said it wasn't right. he was crying and it was all my fault. now i've hidden and i'm crying in just my underwear i've subconsciously put on. i don't want him to see me because i know he thinks im a freak. a fag. and then theres my voice in my head telling me over and over again i'm not normal and i try to stop it but i can't. then i realise it's roger's voice. in my head. and in a state of frantic paranoia i run out from under the bed but he's not there. its just me, alone.

and here i am again. just me, alone, staring at the ceiling and now theres nothing. i'm empty.

sorry roger. you know i love you. i always have, i always will.
yours, always & forever,
bri.


Brian Harold May was found dead in his room of a self inflicted wound on the 16th of October 1979. This is the note he left.