God Save The Queen

Brian

"Ah, fuck!" Roger screamed for the tenth time as he hit his floor toms instead of his rock toms.

"Roger. There's no need to drop an f-bomb every time you hit the wrong drum," I said, irritated. We had tried out the same tune repeatedly, and he insisted on making it hard for himself and speeding his part up. And every time we had tried it with him going fast, he messed up. Oh, somebody just call Tim already. I can't handle this man. I looked up at him and tried to keep my irritation from looking obvious. "Can you please slow your part down? Not only are you screwing up every two seconds, but your drums aren't going to sound good with the slow bass!"

"Then tell Tim to play slower!"

Lord, give me the patience to deal with this man.

"Roger, you were the last one to join the band. Maybe if you had actually taken drum lessons, you would be competent," I said, trying a different tactic.

"Brian, you can suck my-"

The door opened suddenly, and Tim was standing in the doorway, hair ruffled, and bass strap over his shoulder. His hazel eyes were looking light in the sunlight, and he had the look of somebody who had just come back from an adventure.

"Is it just me, or is it really hot with all the gay in this room?" he smirked, setting his stuff down.

"Shut up, Tim," I replied, trying not to smile. Smile! Smile...our lovely band was finally here in the same room after a month of exams and shit. Our band, our family, our everything. And we could finally have a jamming session together without Roger being a dumbass!

He just shook his head and took a seat on his chair. "God, I'm so tired of college. My animation course's exam was just...hard. Are you planning to continue your college education?"

"Possibly," I replied. But I was lying. I didn't want to possibly pursue a career in astrophysics. I wanted to definitely pursue a career in astrophysics. I had already planned it out: Dr. Brian May. I had already started preparing for my masters. All that was left was a doctorate. I didn't technically lie to Tim...did I?

"BULLSHIT," Roger said. Oh no, you asshole. You're not calling me out. "You're literally insane over studies, there's no way you already haven't signed up for next year's courses."

I hate you, Roger, I thought, even though I was trying not to laugh. As annoying as he is, he knows me all too well.

But Tim didn't seem to be paying attention. He was a little quiet, and seemed to be preoccupied. I decided not to push it. Life happens. "You guys..." he said quietly. "Do you think we need a pianist in our band?"

Roger stopped his quiet drumroll and looked up. "Piano? With a guitar and drums?"

"Why not? It should be nice, and besides..." he trailed off, looking down, but then shook his head. "Yeah, a piano should be a nice change."

"Do you know anybody?" Roger asked.

"I do, actually."