Too Much Love Will Kill You

CHAPTER SEVEN

*Hey guys! I'm not sure what's going on with wattpad and their notifications these days because people aren't getting them, but I'm back with another update!!
It's kind of all over the shop to be honest. I don't know what's happening with this chapter, but it's done and the next one will be better 💕*

*3RD PERSON POV*
*Two Months Later*
"I can't believe we finally have an album almost ready!" Roger cheered in delight as he fell into a seat behind the mixing desk at the recording studio. The band had worked overtime on both writing and recording music for their next album, The Works, over the last two months. They were only two songs away from the album being complete, and everyone was ready to get back on tour again. They'd toured a lot since '77, but the last batch of shows weren't as successful as the rest (being from the infamous Hot Space era) meaning they were all willing to put in the extra hours and effort to make this new tour better.
Freddie still hadn't gone back to record the rest of Mr Bad Guy (the affectionate name he chose to give his record) either and he'd decided not to tell John about the run in with Paul. He didn't want to talk about it, and he also didn't want to set off John's temper either. The bassist usually kept it under control, not lashing out like he used to for years, but Freddie knew him opening his mouth about his manager would be enough to set off the loose cannon that was John's anger, and that's something they didn't need to be dealing with at the moment.

"I'm surprised we got it done so quickly to be fair." John chuckled from his place behind Roger, his bass laid out on his lap as he stretched a bit. They'd been in the studio all day, having thrown together the last part of Freddie's song It's a Hard Life rather quickly as it was inching closer to Harry's school pickup time. They'd usually take MONTHS to record an album, and after the pressure of the two week deadline from News of the World, they enjoyed taking their time with their music. All four of them loved perfecting their instruments (and Freddie's voice) to create something that they were all excited to send out into the word.

"There hasn't been much arguing between us this time." Brian laughed too, sitting the Red Special onto it's guitar stand before taking a seat next to his husband. "Fred seems distracted." He added with a frown. The frontman had seemed off to both the guitarist and the drummer the last few weeks. He wasn't acting quite like himself. He usually voiced his opinions easily, always having a say on the things he didn't like, or had different ideas for, but recently the singer hasn't so much as made a squeak. The May's were definitely a little concerned for their friend, Roger almost cornering poor John before they started recording to ask him what was wrong with the older man. John however, knew exactly what was wrong with his own husband. Freddie's HIV medication wasn't agreeing so well with him. It made him sick, sometimes violently sick. He'd had days where he couldn't leave the bed, and others where he spent the whole time sat beside the toilet. The medication was supposed to be working to fight off sickness, not bring the bloody thing on!

"Where even is he?" Roger piped up, looking around the small studio for his best friend. The raven haired man had somehow managed to disappear, not being anywhere in the blonde's eyesight as he scanned the room. John glanced up, instantly knowing he was in the bathroom.

"I haven't seen him since before we recorded the bass." Brian shrugged, both men suddenly turning to face the already stressed out bassist. He felt horrible, not being able to do anything to help Freddie. He'd spent time after time trying to comfort him, but rubbing his back isn't going to take the sickness away. "Do you know where Freddie's got to Deaks?" The tall man quizzed, Roger sending him a look too that told him that he knew John knew where he was.

"Uh I, I haven't seen him either." John mumbled, avoiding both of their gazes as he stood up. "He might be outside." He shrugged too, sitting his own instrument down to go and check on his other half.