Baby Please Remember...

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

*All I can say before you read is; I'M SORRY!*

*BRIAN'S POV*
*One Week Later*
We were finally nearing the end of the tour, and believe me when I say all four of us couldn't wait for it to end! It felt like we had been touring forever! I can't even remember how many cities we'd been in in the last few months. I was looking froward to just being at home and relaxing. We still had the new album to work on, and mine and Rog's elopement to schedule (both of us changing our minds, deciding to wait until we were home so we could invite our parents), but I think we deserved at least a week to relax and recuperate.
Since the tour was almost over, we all thought we'd take it easy and just focus on rehearsing, but Miami being Miami, had other ideas. He sprung an interview on us out of nowhere, meaning none of us were actually pleased to be doing it. It was a satellite interview, and the interviewer was from Australia. The only place the satellite could connect was one small studio in New York of all places. This meant that we'd all need to fly out for it, and fly back, in order to be back for our show in two days time. Miami, again, being Miami, decided that only two of us should go, to save lugging everything and everyone to the other side of the country for "one bloody day" (as he put it). He decided that Fred and I should go, knowing that Freddie was the most sort after for interviews, and I usually did most of the talking for the rest of us. I didn't want to go. If Fred was going, I wanted John to be there with him. The poor lad was still a wreck after the diner incident last week, and only John knew what was really bothering him. He told me that he was just a bit sensitive to touching at the moment (not that I'd be touching him anyway), and that if he started panicking, it was better to talk to him than to touch him. I was nervous. I didn't want to fuck anything up and end up putting Freddie in a worse state than he already was in! He never spoke a word on the plane over, and I'd not seen him eat or sleep either. It worried me. Fred never went longer than an hour without saying something cheeky.

"What are you doing now?" Roger asked through the phone as I sat up against the headboard of my bed. We'd been at our hotel for a few hours now, just trying to wind down from the plane ride. The moment we walked in (Fred, Peter (Phoebe), Tony (our bodyguard) and myself), Freddie took off for his room, not talking to any of us before he shut his door quietly, locking himself in. We all stayed in the same suite, but there were four separate rooms for each of us. It was nicely set up, with a little bar and lounge area too.

"The same as I was doing when you called Rog, still reading my book." I chuckled lightly, the novel I was reading sitting open over my thigh. I should've been sleeping, what with it being almost midnight, but I could feel the jet lag already setting in from the changes in time zones.

"I miss you." He sighed, sounding like he was frowning.

"I saw you a few hours ago, you git." I laughed, a smile resting on my face as I pictured him lying in his (our) bed. "But I miss you too." I added, really wishing I was there rather than here.

"How's Fred?" He quizzed, shuffling coming from the other end of the phone.

"He's...I don't know Rog." I sighed myself, biting my lip with worry. "He never said a word the whole way here, and he's been locked in his room all night. I honestly don't know what to do." I mumbled, rubbing over my face tiredly.

"We need to find out why he's acting so strange." Rog said seriously, almost sounding determined. "I've tried, but John won't say a word." He muttered with a scoff, clearly holding a grudge against the bassist.

"He's just trying to protect him love. I know I'd do the same if something happened that made you that upset." I said seriously, definitely understanding why John was keeping his lips zipped. He didn't want to hurt Freddie even more than I'm assuming he's already been hurt. I'd never seen him look so broken or so scared.