𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧' 𝐆𝐮𝐲 ➺ 𝐵𝓇𝒾𝒶𝓃 𝑀𝒶𝓎 & 𝒬𝓊𝑒𝑒𝓃

(37) 𝘮𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴

A/N

Hope you all enjoy this update. It's a lot of fun! And hopefully you gain a little bit of insight into Maria's mindset and her past.

Stay safe, be kind.

C x

__

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.

"Nobody's staring at you, Brian! I only said something because it's not the kind of scarf you usually wear."

"You're laughing at my style choices - I see how it is."

"We're literally Freddie Mercury's best friends – how can I judge anybody on their fashion choices?"

"Ah, but there's a difference! I'm straight, and he's... Not so straight."

I looked at my boyfriend with a small smirk on my face. "I thought you said nobody really knew."

He sighed, dragging his foot over a pebble as we walked, kicking it to the side. "I know, but it's not exactly subtle, is it? Anybody with a brain cell can tell."

His words hung on my shoulders, and I took in the midday London air before I replied. "Do you think it's obvious in everyone?" I glanced at him. "Someone's sexuality?"

"I don't go around purposefully looking for that. I don't think anybody's sexuality should determine your friendship status with that person. But I notice it when somebody isn't that bothered about hiding it. At least around their friends. You know yourself that Freddie doesn't hide who he is from us. And if any of my other friends told me they were gay, it wouldn't make me think any less of them; I'd respect them and admire them for actually saying it. I think the world's beginning to accept the gays now. We're not there yet, but we've made some progress. Sorry, I'm rambling. Why did you ask, love?" He looked down at me, his hand squeezing mine.