Just Smile

CHAPTER THREE

*Hey guys!
This is the last of my prewritten updates, so new chapters will be coming less often after this one. I hope you all like it as much as I do!! ☺️💕*

*BRIAN'S POV*
*One Week Later*
After finally coming into the idea of Freddie joining Smile and becoming our lead singer, it was time for us to begin our search for a bass player. Before Freddie, Tim played our bass guitar, meaning we'd never needed to audition to find one, but unfortunately, although his voice was mighty impressive, Freddie only knew how to play the piano, which left us with no choice but to find a bass player to complete our band.

"I can't believe we have three days until this gig, and NONE of these bloody kids can play SHIT!" Freddie groaned angrily, leaning back in his chair as he rubbed his face tiredly. We'd been stuck in the same small auditorium at our college for the last half a week trying to find the "perfect" (as Freddie had put it) bassist for our band. It had been a long and sometimes torturous process, with the first half dozen barely being able to hold a tune. I'd be willing to take the first bloke who could carry a chord at this rate!

"We'll find someone Fred, I know we will." Roger piped in from his seat beside the oldest, only earning a glare from him as he sat back up.

"If we don't, are you going to swap rolls and play the damn bass Taylor?" He snapped, the pressure of the situation obviously getting to him. We were all on edge with the short deadline looming to find someone, but it seems as though the tension was putting too much strain on Freddie. If he was getting this worked up now, I couldn't imagine him in a real band related situation.

"Calm your dick Bulsara." Roger quipped back with an eye roll as he pulled out a cigarette from the packet lying on the table. "I'm sure the perfect bassist for Smile will walk through that door any minute now!" He smiled, waving the now lit cigarette around in the direction of the door.

"If you say so Rog." I muttered while fiddling around with my guitar. He'd been saying that after every audition and yet here we are, STILL trying to find the one person we could work with. It seemed hopeless! We had three days until our first gig, and the likelihood of us making that gig was dwindling by the second at this rate.

"Why are you both so negative?" He sighed, relaxing back in his chair as he sucked down on his nicotine death stick. "We'll find someone."

"Negative? Negative?!" Freddie exclaimed. "Tell me how we are supposed to be anything but negative with this bunch of sad excuses for musicians we've seen Roger." He scoffed, looking like he was ready to reach for a cigarette too.

"You just have to believe we'll find the right person." Roger explained, flicking some ash into the tray also sitting (precariously) on the table in front of him.

"I think we're a little past "believing" Rog." I sighed myself, feeling like we'd auditioned almost every person who owned a bloody bass in London! As we kept bickering back and forth (Freddie and I actually agreeing with each other that this was well and truly useless) we missed hearing the door open and close, the next person to audition walking in on our argument.

"This is fucked lovies, royally fucked! We'll never find anyone to help-oh!" Freddie gasped mid-rant, noticing the poor boy standing in the middle of the stage awkwardly. "Hello there darling!" He smiled. "Sorry for all the shouting, just a minor disagreement." He waved as we all sat up properly to greet the shy looking kid.

"H-Hello." He coughed out quietly, sitting his guitar case down on the stage.

"What's your name mate?" Roger asked, now stamping out his cigarette as he looked the boy over.

"John. John uh, Deacon." He replied, looking more than nervous as his eyes darted around the room.

"Well John, I'm Brian," I smiled. "blondie here is Roger, and that's Freddie down the end." I introduced, pointing to the others as I did so.