Starstruck

Part 4

Warnings: swearing

Historical Inaccuracies:

- Brian is probably a total whiz at derivatives, and maths in general, for that matter; he taught maths at Stockwell Manor School, North Brixton, in 1971.

Word Count: 7k

⁺˚*·༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺

The next morning, Sunday, you woke up in a sunny mood, which was a great contrast to the melancholy of the previous morning. Maybe it was because you'd actually been able to fall asleep last night. Or maybe your dreams had been better, or something. You didn't quite know, but it was a lovely feeling to sit up in your bed and breathe in the morning air contentedly.

The air this morning smelled of rain, and looking out the window, you could see that your senses had not betrayed you; your mood may have been sunny, but the ground outside was dark with water. Droplets of rain pattered against the roof of your building and the neighbouring ones.

You had the impression that you'd slept in, and your alarm clock confirmed your suspicions, reading 10:37, midmorning.

Throwing off your covers, you looked over to see if Heather was still wrapped up in her usual cocoon of blankets. But you quickly remembered, with a smirk, that she was presently sleeping at Roger's, though the amount of rest they actually got was up for debate.

"Y/N? Are you up yet?" It was one of your other housemates, Kate, wrapping on your door.

"Yeah, I'm up!"

"Can I come in?" asked Kate.

You glanced at your navy blue pyjamas. Decent enough. "Yeah."

"Sorry," said Kate as the door opened to reveal the small girl with her mousy brown hair and gentle manner. "I've got a Freddie, uh, Mercury on the phone for you?"

You smiled. Some day, one day, no one would stumble over that name. It would be as commonplace as John Lennon or Frida Kahlo.

"Sorry, I'm not sure why he called the house phone. I told him my extension. I'll be right there."

Kate waved a hand. "It's fine. Men, right?"

Your smile grew wider. "Not what you're thinking, Katie."

Kate crossed her thin arms. "So he's not the reason why you're suddenly acting like a morning person?"

"Ha! No. I've known Freddie for years, and no one, not even him with his energy, is going to make me into a morning person."

"Okay, then," said Kate, but her tone was still dubious. "Your unusually good mood shall remain a mystery... Phone in the kitchen." She disappeared down the hall.

In the kitchen, you picked up the receiver, absently winding the coiled cord around your fingers. "Freddie?"

"Y/N, darling?"

"This is she."

"Whyever have you just gotten up? Your musical education is going to take effort, you know."

"Really, Freddie," you said. "It's only ten in the morning."

"Half-past ten," Freddie sniffed. "I'd like my records back, and I'd like you to take some of my other ones in exchange."

"Oh, yes," you remembered. "Though I still don't see why you're calling this early. We never discussed a day or time."

"Now's as good as any, dearie. Get dressed and skip on down to my flat, will you?"