Long Away

Chapter 1

"Sir? Can you hear me? Sir?"
A faint voice sounded in the back of Ben's head. He could barely make out the words over the pulsating pain behind his ear. It was dark. "Sir?", the voice called again, clearer this time. Then the darkness lifted, and the pain dimished. Ben found himself lying on a hard, wooden floor. A young man in an apron kneeled beside him. He could hear a bunch of people talking, but no one else was in sight. Where the hell was he?

Ben groaned. "Oh, thank goodness, you're conscious. You just passed out outta nowhere. Are you okay?" Ben slowly sat up. "I'm not sure...", he admitted. "Had a few too many drinks, eh?", the guy chuckled. "What?" That's when Ben realized he was sitting on the ground behind a bar. While that would explain the gap in his memory, he didn't feel drunk at all. Ben looked down at his outfit and froze. He was wearing a jean jacket over a checkered shirt and bell bottom jeans. He didn't own a single one of those pieces. His heart started to race. This was just creepy. "I'm sorry, could you show me where your bathrooms are?", Ben asked. He needed a quiet place to think. "Alright, but then I gotta get back to work. Follow me."

The man lead Ben through a crowded space. Ben kept his eyes locked on the floor. Hopefully no one would recognize him. The last thing he needed right now was a fan coming up to him, or worse, taking pictures. They walked down a small hallway branching off from the main room and came to a halt in front of a wooden door. "Here we are. Just make sure you don't pass out again." Without waiting for a response, the bartender hurried back across the room. Sure. Ben scoffed.

He pressed down the door handle and entered a small, single stall bathroom. He locked the door behind him and cracked open a small window to get some fresh air. It was cold outside, and too dark to really see anything. Ben took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself down. It didn't work. He walked over to the sink, only to get stunned again by his reflection in the mirror. He looked a whole ten years younger. Ben had to figure out what was going on somehow. He reached into his pant pocket. Inside it was a purse he had never seen before. He opened it. It contained about £100 and an ID. Ben took it out to take a closer look. It had his picture, his name, everything but his date of birth. Instead it said he was born on January 2nd, 1950.

He closed his eyes and slowly counted to ten before looking at it again, but nothing had changed. Seriously, what was happening? Was he going mad? Was he dreaming? He reached for the sink and let some cold water run over his hands. No. No way he was dreaming, this felt completely real. Was this all some elaborate prank then? Had someone drugged him, dressed him up in this weird vintage outfit and given him a fake ID? Ben shook his head. That made no sense. But then again, neither did anything else. A vigorous knock on the door disrupted his thoughts.

"Hey, how much longer are you taking in there?" The guy sounded very drunk and very angry. "Sorry!" With shaking hands, Ben unlocked the door and stepped outside, the other guy barreled into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Before Ben could decide what to do next, the people in the main hall broke out into applause. Ben looked around. Everyone was gathered around a small stage. He couldn't see who was on the stage, and frankly he didn't care. He just wanted to get out of here as fast as possible. He looked around for the exit.

There was a large door on the side of the room. That must have been it. Ben made his way through the crowd. He was almost at the door when the band started playing. Someone was softly strumming a guitar. Ben hesitated. He knew those chords. He turned to get a look at the band and his jaw dropped. No. There was no way. These had to be lookalikes. But then the blond behind the drums started singing in his one-of-a-kind voice.

"Yesterday, my life was in ruin. Now today I know what I'm doing. Got a feeling I should be doing alright. Doing alright."

In that moment Ben decided if he wasn't drunk yet, he was about to be. He managed to get a free stool at the bar. The guy from before was still serving drinks. When he saw Ben, he looked concerned. "Hey man, are you better?" Absolutely not. "Oh, absolutely. Just get me some of your strongest stuff." The bartender frowned. "Are you sure?" Ben drew a £50 bill from his purse and placed it on the counter. "Alright then." Ben turned to watch the band play. How ironic. He had always wished for a way to see Smile play live, but now that he got it it was more like some bizarre fever dream.

"They're pretty good, aren't they?"
Ben almost fell off of his barstool. The man sitting next to him laughed nervously. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, dear."
"It... It's alright," Ben stuttered. Freddie held out his hand and Ben hesitantly shook it. "I'm Freddie," Freddie said. Freddie. Freddie fucking Mercury.

Ben took a large gulp from the glass the bartender had placed next to him. Whatever it was tasted awful, but Ben didn't care right now. He noticed an empty glass next to Freddie. "Can I buy you a drink?", he offered. Freddie chuckled. "Are you not gonna tell me your name?"  "Oh, sorry! It's Ben! I'm Ben." Damnit. Freddie laughed. "Alright, Ben. I would love a drink."

***
Hey everyone!

Thanks so much for reading this chapter. This is the first story I'm writing for Wattpad, so I'm not exactly experienced, but I hope you can enjoy my work anyway. Please do leave a comment, I would love to get some feedback from you all! I'll be back soon with the next chapter. Until then!

Tay