Stars in Your Eyes (Queen/Roger Taylor)

9. Freddie

In my defense, it's not as if I went looking for Skylar. How was I supposed to know that she lived nearby?

I was simply popping out to the shops on a Tuesday afternoon, minding my own business. In fact, she's the one who ran into me, and I mean that quite literally. It was freezing that day and the ground was icy. The poor dear slipped on the slick pavement and nearly knocked me over. After realizing that we knew one another, she kindly agreed to help me shop for party decorations.

So it was only natural that I invited her to the party. After all, everyone deserves to be somewhere on New Year's Eve. And I'd invited most everyone I knew, so why not her? The fact that my mate fancied her--and hadn't managed to move past a few mid-afternoon coffee dates--was just an added bonus.

So, you see, I wasn't meddling. I was simply trying to move things along for those two. Because from what I gather, Skylar has decided to stay very safely in the friend zone when it comes to Rog. Which is fair, because he's a bit of a heartbreaker.

The thing is, I'm not convinced that he wants to be. It's more a role he got stuck with. Oh, sure, he acts like a fucking trollop most of the time, but my theory is that, deep down, he wants to find a special someone. So, I decided to nudge things along.

Oh, fine. 

I fucking meddled, alright? Happy now?

I talked up the party, making it sound as if the everyone except the Duke of Edinburgh would be there. Skylar hemmed and hawed, just as I knew she would, but finally said that she'd try to drop by. And then I went on my merry way.

By the time New Year's Eve rolled around, I'd forgotten all about our encounter. That is, until she walked through our front door, looking very chic in leather trousers and a red velvet top. She was very giggly and keyed up as I handed her a glass of champagne. Her eyes roamed the room, likely looking for Roger, who hadn't yet graced us with his presence.

I left Skylar in the competent hands of John and Veronica, who stood around, chatting happily. I happened to glance over a few minutes later and noticed that a fourth person had joined them. Craning my head, I saw through the throngs of people that it was Theo Dormer, the music critic for Rolling Stone. He was Roger's nemesis, partially because he shagged Roger's last girlfriend, but mostly because he's an all-around twat.

Abruptly, I realize that I've failed to mention to Rog that I've invited his crush to the party. I imagine that he'll be delighted that I've cleverly orchestrated the two of them being in the same room on a night when it's perfectly acceptable, if not downright mandatory, to kiss at midnight.

I stand near the door, chatting with one of Mary's mates and discreetly eyeing Skylar and Theo across the room. She's smiling politely at him, and I can't tell if she's figured out that he's a real cherub.

At that very moment, Roger walks through the front door looking like the fucking Queen of Sheba in an enormous fur coat and tousled hair, a pretty redhead on his arm.

Well, fuck. It hadn't occurred to me that Roger would bring a date, not when he seems to be pining away for Skylar, but, then again, who wants to be alone on New Year's Eve?

"The party can get started now!" He jokes loudly as he walks into the door, pressing several bottles of vodka into my arms. "I told you I'd make it before midnight, Fred."

"Rog--" I try to interrupt, but he's already halfway across the room. From the looks of it, he isn't exactly sober. Suddenly, I wonder if this precise situation is why Mary always tells me to butt out of other people's love lives.

Next thing I know, Roger's on the other side of the room with a glass of cheap vodka in one hand, a cigarette dangling from the other, and a silly party hat perched in his hair. His arm is firmly wrapped around his date's waist, and they look like they know each other pretty well.