Prologue

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-ROGER-
"Fuuuuuuuuck!" Freddie Mercury screamed on top of his lungs which surprise both myself and Brian May. I almost toppled down from the couch I was sitting on, and Brian almost spilled his honey-milk tea. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Freddie continued to curse under his breath.

"Well, that was our fifth bassist." Brian said almost dismissively. Freddie rolled his eyes "don't you think I don't know that?". Brian just shrugged "just saying"

It's true though. Mike, our last bassist, just walked out of the door saying he doesn't want anything to do with us. He was a loss, I must say, as he's an okay bass player and gets along with us. Us -- as in me and Brian. He doesn't get that much along with Freddie, unfortunately. Says he feels dominated by the singer. He was too much to handle, he said, and that's the reason why he left the band. Well, if that's how he feels then I won't blame him.

I kind of saw it coming. I saw them bicker up at each other during studio rehearsals and recordings. They just don't compromise with each other that easily. But still, Freddie didn't take Mike's quitting lightly.

"What're we gonna do now? We don't have a bassist and we need to have one before our gig in  The Viadeuct Tavern on Friday" I sighed. This isn't gonna end well. I can feel Freddie's aura go dark again as he clenched his fist and closed his eyes tightly.

Brian noticed Freddie's reaction and took over the conversation. "You know what? Maybe we should call it a day, perhaps. Let's pack up, shall we?". Freddie abruptly took his mini body bag on top of his grand piano and quietly headed out the door of Syntheche Studios.

I sighed. "Yeah. He is pissed." Brian chuckled, "I can feel his pissiness until the end of my bones!" I slapped his arm playfully and laughed with him "Me too. And pissiness isn't a word Mister-Future-Astrophysicist Brian May."

"It is so!" he said as he leads the way outside of the studio. "It is not!" I clapped back. "It is too!" He playfully put his tongue out and chuckled. We continued teasing each other until I fully locked up the studio. "So. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Have a safe ride home, mate" I waved and started walking home. I whistled a familiar tune that I can't quite put my finger on what it is, but I continued to whistle it anyway.

As I arrived at my flat, I immediately removed my outside clothes, took a shower, and laid in bed. Sleep doesn't quite come to me yet and I kept on overthinking what will happen with the band. We have a gig on Friday and today is already Tuesday. Even if we find a bass player tomorrow, it still isn't enough time to rehearse our setlist for that gig. Unless he's a fast learner and is great with his instrument, then hands down to him! But if not, then we're screwed. Screwer than a screwdriver.

I curled up to my side of the bed near the lamp post, sighed, and closed my eyes. "Well, we just gotta work on what we have, I think."

I woke up to the loud ringing of my wall phone. I groaned and stood up, still completely disoriented from the heavy sleep that I just had. "Hello? Who is this?" I mumbled, eyes still closed.

"Where are you, Rog? We've rehearsals today." Brian's voice echoed in the phone's receiver. My eyes shot open and I immediately ran to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.

Yep. I definitely overslept.

I debated whether I'd be wearing a jumper or trousers and a white shirt. I chose the latter then took one last look in the mirror, ruffled my hair a bit, then ran out to the door with my house keys.

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