Freddie Mercury one-shots

Listen To Me (Jimercury) (Part 2)

3rd person's POV:

What the fan had said froze Freddie's whole body in sudden fear or maybe anxiety.

"I've heard there are some tensions with you and the band, Freddie. The new album is not liked by everyone? Honestly, it's not hard to see, you're usually all here after a day at the studio. Smells a lot like breakup it seems." He had said without a bother in the world.

And maybe he was right. Hot Space had made a such a mess between them. They hung out so much less than usual. The fights were repetitive, ending so often with someone storming out and not coming back for the entire time of the session.

And it would be a lie to say it didn't bring so much anxiety to the singer. There was always that voice in his head, telling him to stop, that the album wasn't worth losing everything. That it wasn't worth losing his family. The one he had fought for during so many years.

It ate him to the core when he thought about losing the thing that mattered the most to him. The thing that made him smile just thinking of them, John, Brian, Roger. He couldn't imagine losing them. And oh god, how awful he had been to Brian, making him feel excluded. It's just now that it made him feel horrible, like every other night when he sobered up from the excessive amount of alcohol he had taken.

The weight in his chest didn't help. He looked at the young man in front of him, looking way too confident. The smirk on his face never faded, making the pianist even more uneasy and unwell. What if he was right? He excused himself, feeling sweat forming on his forehead and his breaths getting less controlled. He walked to the toilet, locking himself in one of the cubicles to be able to calm down, because the music was way too loud for him to ever be relaxed.

The steady sound of a drop of water falling, from outside the cubicle, made his breathing come to normal again. He sat on the cold and probably dirty floor, thinking. He could never make that so little insecurity go away, the one that told him they would find better. That they could so easily replace him. Replace him with a good singer that wouldn't be such an asshole.

"For fuck's sake Brian! No! I don't want one of your fucking guitar solos for my song! It will ruin the whole atmosphere!"

"Is anybody putting any effort in here?! I didn't ask for you to be floppy! If we want to fucking earn money guys, we need to play well!"

"I'm not gonna change my song, Roger! It's mine! It's perfect as it is, okay?! It's not like any of you fucking care!"

He hated himself for letting himself drift apart, for walking away a step at a time. And he knew if we walked too far, there would be no coming back. It would be the last blow and there would be someone else getting to the top of the charts, escalating to being number one, replacing him. Taking his place in the band, taking his place in their little family.

And this only thought made his heart twist painfully, his stomach hurt and his whole body ache. There would be no Freddie Mercury, only the lost shy boy coming from Zanzibar that kept hiding his teeth. Nothing to be confident about, no one to be reassured by, no place where to feel at home. And he couldn't let that happen.

Freddie got up on his feet, feeling finally well enough to go back to the bar. Or maybe go back home, and finally do something that would make him happy and that would make someone else happy at the same time. He wouldn't let his life fall apart only because of a stupid change of taste or a little down.

But the door didn't open when he pushed on it. It stayed exactly at the same place, closed. The musician checked the lock, making sure he hadn't forgotten to unlock the door. But he didn't. He pushed more powerfully the closer door, without any result.