Not Just A Roadie / Queen Fanfiction

8 • Confession

John, Freddie and I left Reid to take his shopping bag back to his trailer, leaving us with directions on how to get to the shop.

Reid and Paul took a trailer attached to the back of the bus. Betty was quite small for what she was, so she certainly wouldn't have fit six people. we'd managed to fit all of our necessary equipment in the trailer with Paul and Reid, who had a small, yet rather luxurious space. they both had a bed each, a toilet and a small kitchen with a two-person breakfast bar.

i was impressed at how everything inside the trailer could be folded away or taken out for when it wasn't being used for touring and as far the band were aware, Reid and Paul were more than happy to take the trailer between them. we had a system between the trailer and Betty so that we could communicate and all was well. except that parking it all was a right pain the backside, so we were forced to park outside the venue that we were playing at that night.

the three of us emerged from the shop twenty minutes later brandishing brandy, Prosecco, crisps, apple juice, four Hershey's bars and some bog roll. somehow I'd managed to worm Freddie into carrying the bag back to Betty, much to his disgust. some excuse about almost making us late yesterday for the first concert when he'd somehow lost his shoe. it was a feeble attempt, but it worked and I felt chuffed as we walked back in triumph.

when we reached the bus, John headed inside quietly with the bag to place on the side and then leave, allowing Brian more time to sleep. we'd both almost yelled at Freddie when he offered to go inside. we definitely didn't need another saucepan incident.

"where shall we go now?" John asked, scraping the dust over the concrete with his shoe.

"lock the bus, whatever you do, we don't want hoards of fans trying to sneak their way inside, especially while Brian's sleeping. they'd rip his darling curls to shreds." Freddie said as I locked the bus door firmly shut (Brian had his own key inside).

we decided to spend the rest of the day appraising the venue, polishing our equipment, rehearsing and having a look around the shops to see if we could find anything extra to wear during our upcoming concerts.

alas, we found barely anything. "it's all this trendy American shit!" Freddie cried, "don't get me wrong I'm loving the place, but they don't really stray from what's in at the moment, do they?"

"to be fair Fred, I don't think they're used to tailoring for three rockstars, least of all you." I pointed out and Freddie flexed his ring-clad fingers.

the entire time we were walking around, John was oddly silent. he was quiet, sure, but never this quiet. "you all right, Deaky?" I asked, nudging his arm with my elbow as we walked down the high street.

"nothing." he mumbled, very unconvincingly.

"oh, come on darling, don't be shy." Freddie reached over and placed an arm around John's shoulder.

"alright, I just miss Veronica and Robert back home, that's all," he admitted, keeping his eyes on the ground.

it was like somebody had shoved a blunt stick through my navel so hard that it went all the way through. he missed his wife. his child. his life. Brian had Chrissie, Freddie had his cats (which he said he needed more than a partner), what did I have? a cheating ex-girlfriend, an empty house to return to and a reputation as the band's "slut".

the slut thing didn't bother me that much, I'd enjoyed every minute of what had brought me to that title.

what did bother me was that I was 28 years old and hadn't sorted out my personal life yet. and that thought haunted me more than anything else. usually I'd be happy to be free, but seeing everybody around me settle down ruined that a little bit.

for the rest of the afternoon I kept pretty quiet, thinking about what was the best thing for me to do at this point in my life.

in the later hours of the afternoon, we traipsed back to the bus to find a stirring Brian. he'd pretty much just woken up as we crossed the threshold, curls everywhere. and i mean it when I say everywhere.

"wow, Bri, leave some room in here for us!" Freddie laughed as he walked across the bus to Brian and pretended to get caught in a net of his hair.

"oh, shut up Fred, it's 6am to me right now." he swung his legs over his pull out bed and stood up, having to duck slightly as to not hit his head on the ceiling. "this bloody bus, my spine's going to compact living in this thing." Brian complained.

"don't insult Betty like that Brian. that's not fair." Freddie said with indignation, crossing his arms.

"anyone fancy a Maccees?" John asked, putting the stuff away from earlier in the cupboards securely so that they didn't slide about when we were on the road. "we're not onstage for another 2 hours as yet."

we all nodded in agreement. what a splendid idea. Brian and I gave our preferred orders to John and Freddie to collect, I wanted to have a chat with Brian.

"Bri..." I started awkwardly, not really knowing how to approach the subject.

"what?" he asked, oblivious to my awkwardness, or not caring as he went over to the small sink to have a shave.

"well, I wanted to talk to you, actually. nothing bad on your part don't worry." words had never failed me so badly before. I mean c'mon, I was the smooth talker and now I was stumbling on my words; it wasn't like like I was about to propose to him or something like that.

"go on," Brian said mid-shave. he was leant over the sink with his chin up, getting the bits on his neck. I leant on the small counter.

"i don't know what's wrong with me since Zara left. I've just had no interest in sex whatsoever since then."

to my surprise, Brian burst out laughing and then swore aggressively. "oh, bloody hell Roger-" another laugh "-look what you've done!"

he turned around and showed me a cut on his neck that was now oozing blood, trickling down his neck. oops. however, I was in no mood to apologise, he'd just laughed in my face when I tried to confide in him.

"excuse me, you're meant to be my best mate, stop laughing at me!" I began to get a little bit agitated as Brian continued to chortle.

"s-sorry," he tried to get out between chuckles, "it's just that- I wasn't expecting you to- come out with that." he composed himself a little bit, cleaning up the small gash that apparently wouldn't stop bleeding. stupid razors, they should make safer ones. if I can ever be bothered, I'll write them a letter letting them know what they've cut the guitarist of Queen and should make their products more user-friendly.

"well...?" i tapped my foot. yeah he'd laughed at me, but I still wanted an answer out of him before John and Freddie get back.

"look mate, I just think that you need to get her out of your head. I know you loved her and I'm sorry she didn't feel the same, but all I can advise is that you take that on the chin and move on. it's no good to dwell on something you don't want to revive." Brian shrugged as if he had not just said the wisest thing I'd ever been told.

he was right. I knew going to him was the best idea. i really didn't act like a bloke sometimes. but then again, how should a bloke act when somebody had left his heart to pulp, a sensation he'd never felt before?

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here's a slightly longer chapter for you all as I wanted to fit in the conversation between Brian&Roger without having to carry onto another chapter - i'm sure you don't mind ;)