Dear Diary,
New Years Eve, 1979. Brian and his band are at the peak of their success. They are probably having some extravagant, lavish party while I sit here in my pyjamas watching Monty Python eating dry cereal. It's about 10 minutes until midnight and Vivienne, my best friend, is already asleep. That woman snores like a diesel train and it makes me want to kick her from the other side of the couch while I laugh miserably at my life. This is my 3rd consecutive New Years Eve I have spent alone. Last year, I was on the same couch, eating cereal with milk (just to mix it up. Yep, I'm THAT reckless and exciting) and watching To Kill A Mockingbird. The year before, I traded my cereal for a bottle of cheap vodka and my pjs for a little black dress and watched Doctor Who. Yes, my social life is challenging to keep up with sometimes. I guess '79 hasn't been too bad. I've made a lot of improvements: I've finally kicked Derek, my abusive ex-fiancé, out of the house and given him his ring back, I've taken myself off the pole-dancing stage and I'm now a casual nurse at Great Orford Private Hospital with a little race driving on the side whenever I can. Speaking of such, I really must tell Brian about this. It's hard to talk to him, either on tour or busy recording with Queen. At least I have Viv. Who is asleep and drooling on my couch. Yuck.
Love, Lucy P May
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Fanfiction(Re-Upload from 2014) A Roger Taylor fanfic. Lucy May shares a deep connection with Queen guitarist, Brian May. He even let her use the May surname after taking her out of her parents home where things were quite the opposite of merry and safe. Bei...