Freddie Mercury one-shots

Any Other World (Froger)

This is like the prequel of Nothing More Than Memories! I wanted to do something different and as soon as I thought of this I started writing!

November 14th 1967

Roger's POV:

I walked down Oxford street. It was night time, the street was so busy, every bar filled with drunk people, every restaurant busy with hungry people. I came out of my apartment to get some air, the heating wasn't working in it so it was better to be in the cold outdoor instead of being in the cold indoor.

A young man bumped into me. He was alone, a suitcase in one hand and the other holding tightly onto his T-shirt. The poor lad had no jacket on, he looked like he was freezing. His hair was a mess. He had a scared expression written all over his face. His skin was olive, his eyes dark and sweet at the same time. His lips were the same colour as his nose because of the cold. He looked beautiful.

"I am so sorry." He apologised.

He had an accent that I couldn't figure out. He had an overbite, it was unique, but not in a bad way. His eyes looked panicked. He stared at me a few seconds.

"It's okay." I said, before starting to walk again.

I had barely done any steps before I heard him call for me.

"Wait!"

I turned around and watched as he walked to me. His whole body screamed for me to help him. I noticed after a few seconds the bruise on his cheek he constantly tried hiding with his long jet black hair.

"Can you help me?" He asked, his voice shaking.

"What do you need?" I asked as comforting as possible, I didn't want to scare him off.

A small smile formed on his lips. His eyes brightened, like a kid looking around in a candy shop. He looked pensive a few seconds, opening his mouth and closing it barely seconds after. His cheeks heated up as I waited for him to say something.

"D-do you- I am sorry, I do not speak English very good." He explained, trying to speak correctly.

"It's okay, take your time."

He took something in the back pockets of his pants. It was his wallet. He opened it, taking the money he had. He barely had anything in it. Only maybe around 50 pounds.

"I do not have much money, where can I go sleep with what I have?" He asked slowly.

I looked at him, he really didn't have enough to go to any hotel.

"I don't think you have enough money." I told him sadly.

"Oh." He only said.

His face crumbled. He looked at the money in his hands, putting it pack in the wallet and placing it in his pocket. He looked at me again, before putting his face in his hands. He shook his head vigorously and removed his hands, revealing tears. I put my hand on his shoulder. He slightly flinched.

"Hey, don't cry. Don't you have family here?" I asked him.

He shook his head.

"My family is in Zanzibar." He told me.

I raised an eyebrow, having absolutely no idea where Zanzibar was.

"It is in Tanzania on the eastern cost of Africa." He explained.

He looked down at his hands, before looking in my eyes once again.

"I am sorry for taking your time. I- uh- I will go."