𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧' 𝐆𝐮𝐲 ➺ 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒶𝓃 𝑀𝒶𝓎 & 𝒬𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃

37. My Yorkshire Lass

June 1966

I leaned against the wall, tights getting stuck on the old wooden bench as I watched my friends debate over The Beach Boys. I always liked getting the end spot at the dinner table, especially when it was summer, the sun beaming down at the school and allowing us to sit outside rather than in the cramped hall.

"I'm just telling you that Dennis is the one who brings everything together. Don't you listen to music? The drums are the most important part!" Emma squealed, shoving a mouthful of pasta from her plate into her mouth. "Drummers are hot!" She spat through the food. I grimaced at her, hoping I was out of the way of any potential bits flying at me.

"Oh my God, don't talk with food in your mouth, it's gross!" A friend covered her face, moving backwards, almost falling off the bench. I cackled to myself. "And no, I think you'll find it's Brian Wilson, my baby, that's the best, thank you very much."

"Maria, back me up on this." Emma pleaded with a now empty mouth. "Dennis is the best member in The Beach Boys."

My eyes flicked to our other two friends, before sighing and sitting up properly. "I don't really care about the members too much, I literally just like their music. But if I had to choose one of them, I'd say Brian Wilson. Sorry, Em."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, swigging out of her bottle of water.

The friend sat beside me laughed at Emma's reaction. "Why Brian?"

"I like the name Brian, so I based it on the names." I smirked to myself, looking down at my plate. As Emma and the others fought over their preferences, I took it as an opportunity to rip a small piece of bread out of my sandwich and push it past my lips.

Everyone's staring at you, Maria.

"No one is staring at you, Brian! I just pointed it out because it's not your usual scarf choice," I reassured him, a hint of teasing in my voice.

He playfully pouted. "You're mocking my fashion sense now? I see how it is."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Come on, we're practically Freddie Mercury's best friends. How can I judge anyone based on their fashion choices?

He grinned mischievously. "Ah, but there's a difference. I'm straight, and he's... well, not so straight."

With a small smirk, I looked at my boyfriend. "I thought you said nobody really knew."

He sighed, kicking a pebble along the pavement. "I know, but it's not exactly subtle, is it? Anyone with a brain cell can tell."

His words weighed on me, and I took a moment to absorb the midday London air before responding. "Do you think it's obvious for everyone? Someone's sexuality, I mean."

Glancing at me, he pondered the question. "I don't actively seek that out. I believe a person's sexuality shouldn't determine your friendship with them. But I do notice when someone doesn't feel the need to hide it, at least among their friends. You know Freddie doesn't hide who he is from us. And if any of my other friends came out to me, it wouldn't change how I see them. I'd respect and admire their honesty. I think the world is slowly becoming more accepting of everyone. We're not there yet, but progress had been made. Sorry, I'm rambling. Why did you ask, love?" He looked down at me, squeezing my hand.

I swallowed, shrugging my shoulders. "No reason." Changing the subject, I mustered the courage to ask, "Can I ask you something else?"

Brian chuckled at my quick change of topic and focus ahead again. "You can ask me absolutely anything."