The Luckycharm -A Brian May fanfiction- English

Only the music is at sea level

Queen second limo
Around eleven o'clock

BRIAN P.O.

"Where's your ring Brian?" Roger asks me, he's sitting next to me.

I raise my right hand distractedly, I look at my fingers even more distractedly and I answer him: "Oh, I don't know... I must... I must have lost it at the Ariston Theatre last night, maybe in the dressing room"

"Did you lose it?! You cared so much about that ring, you always wore it at every concert, at every important Queen events..."
"I know that Roger, but ..."
"If you want, we can come back and go to get it, Mr. May" Paul, my bodyguard, interrupts me, turning to me from the front seat.

I open my mouth to answer him, but Miami Beach, who's sitting exactly in front of me, precedes me: "Thanks Paul, but there's no need. Mr. May was just very distracted last night, wasn't he, Brian?"

How the hell does he always know everything about me? It remains a mystery. My father and he are the only men on Earth who have the ability to make me uncomfortable, to make me feel small with their sarcastic claims.

"Yes, it's true...maybe it was due the tiredness..." I certainly can't tell everyone what, or rather who, distracted me here in Sanremo yesterday and the other evenings "No need to go back to the Ariston Theatre, Paul, I will buy a similar ring when I'll come back in London, thank you"
"Do you know you're strange Brian?" Roger intervenes again "You preserve everything, even the cheeses labels, and you don't come back to pick up something really important" he comments in amazement.

"It wasn't a ring of value, it's not worth...to risk missing the plane for something worth less than ten pounds"
"If you say so. But you're a strange person, my friend" he stutters again, he puffs bored and turns away to the window.

Miami Beach gives me another of his severe gazes then he too turns to the fantastic Ligurian landscape. I do the same, sighing compliantly.

Our limo is going along the road parallel to the Empress Walk and a river of beautiful memories assails my mind. This weekend in Sanremo was so beautiful and I owe it to her, to Lilibeth. I think now the receptionist have already given her the envelope with my ring inside. She was stunned when I told her that she had to give it to Miss Elisabetta, the singer of the Rodaviva, in person. It was in that moment that she understood who the white chocolate croissant and latte macchiato were for. I couldn't have gone away without leaving her a souvenir of me.

Yes, it's true, she too will never forget the wonderful night spent together, but she'll have something true, real, something tangible in this way, something that will allow her to remember what she meant for me forever and, maybe, it could help her to forgive me to have hurted her. That ring has been my lucky charm for years, but I have never told it to anyone simply not to look like a superstitious man, to a logical and rational physicist like me little suits the useless and illogical chimera of superstition. Maybe I'll feel empty now, I'll feel lost, incomplete, as if I was about to go on stage without my Red Special, but I don't care, I'll get used to it.

I smile when I see a youg couple walking along the promenade, hand in hand. Love is true, pure, without interest, without deception, without subterfuge only at that age.

"I'd like to know how Italians drive on these blessed stones!"

The not very happy exclamation of our driver brings me back to reality.

We're going along a road made by small stones, called sanpietrini here, and this is literally making us all jump on the seats, despite the limo is new and comfortable.

"I think Italians are used to it" Paul replies "I remember that when Wanda and I went on the Amalfi coast on our honeymoon..."

My ears close, my mind is absent again, too many fears, too many anxieties and worries are wandering free in my head to be able to pay attention to the stones and to Paul's honeymoon. I look at the waterfront, but Roger's voice brings me back to reality once again.

"Brian, sorry, do you have a tissue please?" he asks me, turning to me.

I too turn around in his direction, I stare at him a few seconds and I try remember: when I had dinner out with Lilibeth I had forgotten them in the hotel, so I borrowed them from her, but I placed a package in my coat pocket yesterday evening, if I remember correctly.

"Oh...I..." I waver, putting both hands in my pockets "I should have them...and...oh, here they are"

I pull out the package from the right pocket triumphantly, hand it to Roger who takes a tissue for himself and gives it back to me.

"Thanks Bri, you're better than a mom sometimes, you know?" he jokes, he never loses his witty mood.
"Oh...you're welcome" I just reply.

He turns again to the window, I do the same and put the package back in my pocket, but right now I realize that there's something else in its bottom and that the little jumps due to the stones is making it resurface. I grab it and pull it out, I look at it carefully and recognize it.

"The third tube with the film of stereographs I have to develop!" I exclaim in a low voice "So they were three, not two, I was right. But... how the hell did it end up in my coat pocket?"

I still look at it, even more carefully. It has nothing wrong, it's exactly like the other two, it's a black tube, made of rigid plastic, it contains a film of...

"No, it doesn't contain a film"I think to myself.

It's too light and there's something inside that makes noise, an cristal sound comes muffled from the inside of the tube. I look around, Roger and Miami Beach are both turned to the window and Paul is still talking to the driver about his honeymoon. If I open it now, nobody will see me and so do it.

"No, I can't believe it's..." I exclaim amazed in a low voice "It's..."

I turn the tube upside down and the starfishs scatter untidily on the palm of my hand, the rattle makes its classic and unmistakable metallic sound.

"...it's Lilibeth's bracelet!" I say amazed.

I stare at it for a few seconds, without words, I never thought that she would give up something so important for her just to give it to me. I smile, happy to have something of her to tight when I'll miss her, I I turn the tube upside down again and I notice that there's something else inside, something clear that stands out on the dark plastic.

I put my finger inside the tube and I extract this mysterious thing with difficulty because it adheres to the black plastic of the tube perfectly. After several attempts I do it. I pull it out and I turn to the window to look at it better: it's a piece of paper, it's been torn from one of the sheets that were on my desk, I recognize it because I see the yal of the word Royal printed against the light. There's something written in pen behind it, so I turn it and I read in a low voice:

"Only the music is at sea level"

A bitter tear falls on my face, it's salty as the sea that stands immense beyond the window.

Hi my dear Queenies!
We're arrived at the end of the story. I just want to thank all of you girls who have read this story during these months and thanks for the votes too. I hope you enjoyed all the chapters <3 If you want to tell me what you think about the story, feel free to leave me a comment below or send me a private message. Thank you with all my heart.
Manuela-Rhapsody