Faking It • Queen FanFiction

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 26

With every passing day at college, Bernie progressively became a little less enthusiastic to be there, with the knowledge that everybody else had already passed their exams and were branching out into their lines of work they had worked so hard to reach. When was it her turn? When would she be able to spread her wings? The newcomers were hopelessly atrocious at everything, just as she was eleven months ago, but it still frustrated her. She felt extremely berated, even though she knew that wasn't what was going on here. Still, her exams were in a little less than month and then she'd be free!

And not a moment too soon - not only was she fed up, she was also extremely sun burnt as the late-June sun beat mercilessly down. If she wasn't exposed in the field, she was exposed when walking to and fro from work, resulting in a few nasty burns. Some days Roger picked her up when he was in the local area. Bernie found it odd how he seemed to memorise her timetable better than even she did, though she had a funny feeling Freddie had something to do with that as her paper timetable went mysteriously missing one day. Consequently, she had to print off another one in the office at college.

What added significantly to Roger's availability to cart Bernie around all the time was that Queen were done in the recording studio now and had the rest of the week off to prepare to leave for Ridge Farm on the 2nd July. Unfortunately, Bernie would not be joining the party as she had her exams in three weeks. It was a shame, but she'd missed a lot of college already and was in no rush to miss more.

Today, however, Roger wasn't parked all squiffy outside the college, meaning that Bernie would be enjoying the mile walk home in her own company. Luckily today was slightly more overcast than previously in the week, fat grey clouds of thunder dominating the cheery blue sky. This cast a dull glow on everything, increasing the humidity dramatically. So in some way, Bernie was glad for the solitary walk. She didn't want anybody she knew to see the way in which her hair reacted to the humidity. With each step she took, it seemed that her ginger waves expanded just a tad more. So when she'd reached her block of flats, there was barely enough room in the doorway for both herself and her hair.

Creeping embarrassedly round Holden's flat to reach her front door, unfortunately her boots were just slightly too chunky to allow her to 'creep' around anywhere. Merely four footsteps later and he was out there, leaning on his doorframe as if his legs could no longer support his weight. "No boyfriend today? That makes a change....." he laughed pointedly to himself, getting a serotonin boost out of his own comment. What a saddo.

"What do you mean?" Her reluctance to talk was abruptly hilted in its tracks and instead she became more invested than she would have liked to have been in whatever it was that Holden was getting at. "He's always round."

"Never for the night though. If I didn't know better, I'd say the pair of you weren't dating at all!" A thunderous laugh left his gawping mouth, showing off his teeth that had worsened dramatically since Bernie had broken up with him one year ago. Where they used to be pearly white and slightly crooked, they were now cracked and yellowing. Ew.

However, she couldn't care less about his teeth, she wasn't focusing on those. What she was focusing on was the truthfulness of Holden's comment. Roger had never stayed the night. And 'serious couples' like the pair of them always stayed round each other's overnight. Come to think of it, she probably didn't come off great either: she was always at home. The fact that Holden had kept an eye out enough to be able to monitor Roger's visits to Bernie made her writhe internally, Holden really was a filthy stalker. But worst of all, above everything else bad about him, he had Bernie's plan pegged.

"Never for the night though" rung in her head like clockwork and she fumbled around in her backpack for her keys, even though she knew where they were in the front pocket, for the sake of not having to meet Holden's eye.

"Yeah, well, funny you should mention that, 'cause he's actually staying round tonight as a matter of fact." Thinking (and badly) on her feet, Bernie crossed her arms and raised her chin slightly in indignation, upholding her pride. On the inside, she was screaming at her own stupidity. Tonight?! Come off it.

"Hey, Rogerrrrrrrrrr," she cooed in an I-want-something way, her voice going up a note with each 'r'. Her empty dinner plate sat on the side and she leant her feet on the low coffee table, hunching forward in anticipation. Outside, the clouds still leered over the sky, making it appear later than it was as there was an uncharacteristic summer darkness descending into the room.

"Yes, Bernie?" The hopefulness in Roger's confident voice made Bernie want to squirm, but not in a good way. Unfortunately, he'd had plenty of time to get to know her, meaning that he knew what that tone meant. "How can I help you on this fine Monday evening?"

"Well, it depends how well you can be as helpful as you set yourself up to sound...I need a favour." Bernie could barely think of anything worse than asking her almost-but-not-really crush round for the entire night, about an hour before the actual event.

"You can't insult me and then ask me for things Bernie, that's not how it works!" Roger spluttered down the line, choking on his cigarette as he let out a genuine laugh.

"It is in my world. Are you free this evening?"

"Urrr.....what do you need?" Something told Bernie that Roger was not free that evening, but raw intrigue was leading him on to see what she wanted.

"I need you to stay the night."

"You know, everytime you tell me something ridiculous, I think: damn, she can never top that, and now here we are...you want me to do what?" Roger's voice came out clearer, suggesting that he'd given up on the cigarette.

"You heard."

"I did. You mean, tonight?"

"Yes, Roger, tonight. Now get your arse over here, I can hear you trying not to laugh." It was true. He was trying not to laugh and, as if on cue, he exploded into a fit of rather high-pitched giggles. Waiting patiently for his girlish laughter to subside, Bernie anticipated his answer.

"Yes, I can be at yours by eight, is that okay with you?"

"What do you mean, is that okay with me? you're the one being forcibly dragged round my house to stay round when you have other stuff to do. Is it okay with you more like?" Why she was being so defensive over whether or not Roger was willing to do this, she'd never know. If anything, her own anxiety was pumping through her bloodstream at 100 miles a minute. What if he thought she wanted to have sex with him? What if Holden came round? What if something else bad happened?

"Yes Bernie, it's more than okay with me. I'll see you at eight." Silence. The gentle hum of the line being cut off. She placed the phone on the hook slowly and digested what she'd just committed herself to.

3/12/22