j.deacon {🎸}

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WARNING: foul language, a little bit of angst

WARNING: foul language, a little bit of angst

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the record deal

"i've signed a deal with CBS records" freddie said plainly as he watched out of the window opposite you and john.

"you've done what?" roger inquired.

"without telling us?" brian chipped in.

"what kind of deal?" john asked. you could see his body change in demeanour as he began to fully listen to what freddie had to say. your hand quickly went onto john's thigh in an attempt to calm him. brian was practically falling off of the edge of the sofa he was on. roger too on the edge of his seat, waiting for whatever reason freddie had to have signed with CBS.

"look, i'm not saying we won't record or ever tour again: queen will go on. but i-i need to do something different, you know what i mean, i need-i need to grow," he looked directly at john and asked, "wh-wha-what's the song?" john was confused, looking down at you, who was wrapped under his arm. "fly away?"

john looked down to his lap, "spread my wings and fly away-"

"spread my wings and fly away," freddie echoed, raising his cigarette butt.

"a solo album?" brian asked, making sure what he had heard from freddie was correct.

"two, actually," paul perked up. "back to back"

"another word out of you and i'll throw you out the bloody window" roger made paul stop talking, his anger at freddie and his feelings towards paul getting the better of him.

"but that's years, freddie," john pointed out. "i mean, that'll take years." he chuckled slightly at the obvious point he made. his arm moved from around your shoulders to rest his hands in his own lap.

"ye of little faith" freddie mumbled.

"i don't believe this," roger had to expressed what he was feeling. "how much?" the three of them looked intently at freddie, waiting for his reply. all freddie could do was raise his cigarette up to his lips and stare out of the window.

"what did they pay you?" roger pushed. freddie still didn't reply. "i wanna know how much they paid you!" roger, now fed up, stood and slightly moved towards freddie.

"four million dollars!" freddie replied, roger staring at him in disbelief, along with brian and john. all brian could do was gasp. john covered his mouth in shock and roger sighed.

"that's more than any queen thing." john interjected, taking hold of his wife's hand.

"the routine is killing us," freddie tried to reason, "i mean, you must all want a break from all the arguments: who's song is on the album, who's song's the single, who wrote what, who gets a bigger slice of the royalties, what's on the b-side, all of it. you must need a break"

"freddie, we're a family." brian argued back.

"no, we're not. we're not a family. you've got families: children, wives. what have i got?"

"you've got 4 million dollars, perhaps you can buy yourself a family" john smirked slightly, looking up at freddie, seeing him staring intently at what he had to say. his head hung low once again.

"freddie, just think about this." you tried to calm the situation.

"this is a band meeting, what brings you here?" paul asked, making you feeling uncomfortable. before you could even open your mouth, roger was ready to defend you.

"i could ask you the same thing."

freddie turned back to the window, "i won't compromise my vision any longer."

"compromise?" roger spat. "are you joking? you were working at heathrow before we gave you a chance."

freddie had had enough, "without me, you'd be a dentist, drumming 12/8 times blues at the crown in anchor. and you," he turned to brian, "you would be dr brian may, author of a fascinating dissertation on the cosmos that no one ever reads. and deaky," freddie turned, seeing john with that ridiculous smirk on his face. "for the life of me, nothing comes to mind"

john's head lowered before looking back at freddie directly in the eyes. "i studied electrical engineering. does that meet your standard?"

freddie scoffed before saying, "its perfect." a smile imminent on his face. he pushed his cigarette into the ash tray and began to leave the room. you head stayed low, fighting back tears at what had just happened.

"you just killed queen." roger spoke as freddie walked past.

"oh, give her a kiss one day. she might wake up." freddie answered back calmly.

"you need us, freddie," brian interjected again. "more than you know."

"i don't need anyone." he said plainly, not looking at either of the three. he then stalked off, leaving his ex-bandmates alone. paul stood and followed freddie out, but not before placing a what never-would-have-been comforting squeeze on roger's shoulder. he instantly pushed paul off of him as he looked at the man in anger.

john and brian stayed silent, processing what they had just heard. roger was the first to leave. he mumbled some cursed shit about freddie and paul before grabbing his car keys and leaving you, john and brian behind. brian was short to leave after him. he, too, mumbled some shit about freddie before leaving you and john alone.

his hand squeezed yours tightly. you instantly turned to him and placed your forehead on his cheek. his breathing was heaving, you could feel his whole body shaking. your hand went to his chin, moving his face around so you were looking into his eyes.

"he'll be back," you smiled, seeing the glossy eyes of your husband. "he'll get sick of prenter and his manipulative ways and he'll be back, my love." a small smile made it's way into john's face as you both leaned in, sharing a loving kiss before you both stood up, leaving that house for the last time for years to come.

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