My Love, Brian May {Book 2}

Inspiration

A month later... July 2nd

"Roger Taylor, Do you deny the rumors concerning Izzy Curry and you having an affair?"
I eye Roger from backstage. His face was beginning to sweat and he looked uncomfortable in his seat.
He clears his throat before replying. "So much is being spread these days. I like to say that it was the past, this is the present. The band is the most important to me at the moment." He responds as the reporter nods her head.
"Well said Roger. Now Brian, your wedding is rapidly approaching isn't it?" She asks, batting her lashes at Brian as he begins to turn red.
"Oh, yeah it is. It's... it's gonna be amazing is all I can say." He replies nervously, glancing at me from backstage here and there.
I smile at his words but then suddenly feel a bit confused and I could tell everyone else was feeling the same emotion. It was supposed to be an interview about the upcoming tour, not about the rumors going around the country. Freddie purses his lips and cocks his eyebrows in annoyance occasionally while the others politely answered the following questions.
"Freddie Mercury, right now, you are labeled as one of the greatest rock and roll singers of all time. How do you feel about that?"
Freddie straightens up and crosses his legs before replying. "They can call me whatever they want dear. I could be the best I could be the worst, but in the end, I don't fucking give a shit."
The boys looked embarrassed as he finishes his statement. Brian squirms in his seat as the reporter begins to choke up a bit.
"W..well, there you have it folks. Queen themselves, performing all around England this summer. Be sure to purchase your tickets as soon as possible. Thank you and good night." She says before the camera crew stops airing and the crowd cheers throughout the small theater.
The reporter turns stern as she thanks the boys before storming off stage in anger. As the band walks off, I stop Freddie for a second.
"Fred... don't you think that was a bit harsh?" I softly ask, not wanting him to throw his anger at me.
His expression doesn't change though. "Like I said dear, I don't give a shit." He says coldly before marching towards his dressing room. Brian approaches me as I stand frozen in shock.
"Bri, whats been going on with him lately?" I ask as Brian grabs ahold of my hand and gently rubs it with his thumb.
"Paul... he's not doing Freddie too well. He's beginning to venture around for some antidepressants. I once walked in on him doing some lines." He explains as we both watch Paul enter Freddie's dressing room.
"God... that's awful. If only he knew what he was getting himself into." I sigh as Brian pulls me close to him.
"Hey, it's his problem not ours. Oh, I was wondering, maybe we could grab a bite to eat before heading back to the house. What d'you say?" He offers with the most charming expression on his face that you couldn't possibly say no to.
     "I'd love to." I reply, taking his hand and following him out the door towards the limousine that would drive us to the nearest cafe.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>

     As we take our seats and order little desserts, I noticed a ton of, mostly young women, staring at us or should I say Brian. We both ignored them and continued to chat a bit about the band and such.
     "Can you believe she did that just so he would go out with her. Literature these days is so dramatic I swear." Brian says before taking a sip of his steaming tea.
"What can I say, Crazy Little Thing Called Love." I chuckle at the thought of us talking about a love story we read years ago. Brian suddenly freezes and sets down his cup with wide eyes.
"Say That again dear.." he mumbles as I sit in confusion of what he was talking about.
"I said, crazy little thing called love." I repeat in an unsure tone as he pulls his thinking face on. I look at his fingers as he "plays" chords on a pretend guitar. "Are you Okay love?" I ask, feeling worried that he hadn't responded for a solid minute.
"My dear I think you've found the title of a song I'm trying to write." He almost whispers as if speechless of a few words I had said. "Oooooo I need my guitar." He mutters as he tries to remember his fingerings.
I look over to a little stage in the cafe where some guitars and other instruments were set up. Looking over at the man next to the instruments, I get up and approach him, leaving Brian to think.
"Excuse me sir, but may I borrow one of these guitars for a minute. My fiancé over there is trying to write a song but can't seem to remember it." I explain as he looks up from his clipboard with a small glare.
"Sorry miss, these instruments are reserved for actual musicians." He replies, emphasizing the word actual as if he didn't know what I was talking about.
"My husband is Brian May, guitarist of Queen. I need to see the guitar please..." I ask again making him look up at me with the same glare.
"Honey, lying wont get you this beauty right here." He sighs, patting the guitar.
"Sir look over my shoulder at booth number 4." I demand as he shoots me a disgusted look. But he does as I say and leans to one side to see my stressed fiancé mumbling to himself. His eyes grow wide at the sight of him. "As I was saying, may I please borrow the guitar?" I ask one final time.
He nods his head shakily as he continues to eye my husband. I thank him before picking the guitar up and hurrying back to Brian. I hold out the guitar for him to see as he continues to massage his stressed temples.
"Brian... look. Try and write it on here." I say as he looks at the guitar up and down before slowly taking it in his hands and laying it in his lap. It wasn't his red special but it was indeed a guitar.
People were flashing their cameras at us as Brian tried to concentrate on his chords. He eventually found the chords that ended up playing a fast but steady pulse.
"This thing, called love, I just, can't handle it. This thing, called love, I must, get right to it I ain't ready. Crazy little thing called love." He softly sings while gently strumming the notes so it wouldn't cause a commotion.
He looks up from the guitar to look at my shocked expression. He cracks a small smile as people around us begin to clap.
"Mr. May, I think you just wrote a hit." I mumble so only he could hear me followed by a wink on my end. He smiles brightly before taking a pen out and scribbling the notes on a nearby napkin.