Stars in Your Eyes (Queen/Roger Taylor)

2. Roger

I pull an embroidered shirt over my head and run a hand through my damp hair as I listen to Brian and Freddie chatter away about the show. 

"And my favorite part was when Rog forgot how to play the drums mid-way through 'Father to Son,'" Brian comments with a sly grin. "You see another ex in the crowd, mate?"

"Fuck off," I mutter. That had been Skylar in the second row, right? My mind wasn't playing tricks on me? Her hair was shorter than I remembered, and her face a bit more angled, but I'd bet my life on it being her.

Tugging on black trousers, I debate running around to the front of the building to see if she's still there. But, in reality, it won't matter. Even from behind the drum kit--and even with my horrendously poor eyesight-- I'd seen the look of disgust when she had recognized me. No, there's no way she would want to see me.

A firm knock on the door interrupts my thoughts. I irrationally hope that it's my long-lost woman in yellow, even though I know that it's impossible. Mary peeks her head in to ensure that we're all decent before she opens the door, carrying a duffle bag of clothes for Freddie.

"I don't know what I'd do without you, darling," Freddie says, giving his girlfriend a quick kiss. He grabs the bag eagerly and makes quick work of changing clothes. We pile out the door, walking the short distance to Kensington Pub. From halfway down the block, it's clear that anyone who Freddie has ever met is gathered to celebrate our first real tour.

Once inside, we smile and wave before making our way to the bar for much-needed libations. As I'm ordering a drink, a familiar blonde pins me against the bar, her lips on mine. Susan? Suzanne? Something like that. I return the kiss and give her waist a little squeeze. "Hey, you," I say warmly.

We make small talk while I wait for my drink, then retreat to one of the large tables in the back where Brian and Freddie have congregated.

"Where's your mystery girl, Bri?" I ask as we approach the table. He's been talking non-stop about a girl who lives in South Kensington. She was supposed to come backstage tonight, but never showed, prompting us to wonder if she exists at all.

"She'll be here," he replies confidently. "She and her flatmate were at the show, I saw them."

I sit in the empty chair next to Fred, gesturing to the blonde to take the adjoining seat. Instead, she plops herself down in my lap and loops an arm around my neck. I can't for the life of me remember her name, and I feel like an absolute sod. Undeterred, she nestles her body into mine as Freddie starts to dissect Bowie's latest track.

"It's fucking incendiary," he proclaims as I take a sip of my beer and glance just past Susan/Suzanne's shoulder into the crowd behind us.

Oh my God, it's her. It's Skylar.

She marches towards me with half a scowl on her face, looking dangerously beautiful. My eyes brighten--she found me!--and I sit up straight, almost knocking the other woman off my lap.

"Hey!" I exclaim as she approaches, flashing a cautious smile. She doesn't look thrilled to see me.

"My God, Roger, do you always have to travel with a fucking harem?" Freddie mutters jokingly under his breath as our eyes collectively follow Skylar's arrival.

"Oh, hey! There you are," Brian says casually to her as if they're best mates. "Is Jenny with you?"

"Wait, what?" I say, looking back and forth between Brian and Skylar. She returns his greeting, flashing him a tight-lipped smile, before she turns her attention back to me.

"You have a lot of nerve," she thunders. I sputter and try to stand, but I'm held hostage by the woman on my lap. She's also glaring at me, so I feel like a real winner right now.