It Could Never Happen Here

It's Gotta Be Mack

After his heartbreak, Roger Taylor vowed to never love again. Until his true love came in the form of an assistant.

*Narrator's POV*

Roger Taylor and his highly successful rock and roll band had been working at Mountain Studios in Montreux. However, they had heard of an incredible producer by the name of Reinhold Mack who lived in Munich. Fearing they would miss out on such an amazing opportunity to work with Mack, they immediately signed the contract once he had offered.

Each of the members of Queen were overjoyed to be working in a new place, Musicland Studios, Munich, all except Roger Taylor.

His relationship had come to a crashing halt when he found out his girlfriend was cheating on him. She blamed his absence from England and he immediately left her. "This time is going to be different," he told himself. "Women won't get in my way any more."

*Michelle's POV*

I started running down the busy streets of Munich, desperately pushing people out of the way in an attempt to make it to my new job on time. I had recently been employed by Mack, a music producer. I barely knew a word of German so I found it rather difficult to understand what he was saying most of the time because I made the foolish mistake of telling him I spoke German.

I arrived outside Musicland and ran in the front door. Mack was waiting for me, his hands on his hips. Mack was a tall man with long brown hair and round glasses. He tried to be intimidating but he was more of a softy than anything else.

"Michelle, you are late." He said in his thick German accent. I was surprised he didn't speak German to me.

"Oh and Stacey told me you cannot speak German. Why lie?"

"I wanted this job. I didn't know you could speak English."

Mack tutted and rolled his eyes.

"Follow me," he said, walking into the recording part of the studio. "We have a new client today. Well, new clients. A band named Queen. Ever heard?"

I shook my head no. New bands never appealed to me. I was more of a Bealtes and Led Zeppelin fan, and I always felt like new bands just tried to copy the classics.

Mack sat down at the mixing desk. "I need you to collect them from the airport."

"Mack, I'm your assistant, not their chauffeur." I said.

"Yes, you are mein assistant, which means you help me. I cannot go right now, I am busy. So you go. You only need to collect Roger Taylor. The others have people. Mein driver will drive you there and back, you just need to stand with the sign that says his name to collect him. Now go!"

I sighed and went out to the back of the building where Mack's driver was waiting. I got in the back and he handed me a big white sign and a black marker where I wrote: "Mr R Taylor."

I got out of the car and the driver told me he would wait in the car. I walked into the airport and stood at the area where other people were standing with signs. These people were waiting for loved ones and family members and I was waiting for a total stranger. I sighed and checked my watch.

My legs were starting to ache. This guy was taking his time.

Then, a man, who can only be described by the words Blonde Beauty, came down the escalator and looked around. I didn't know if it was the man I was waiting for, but to my utter happiness he came over to me.

"Are you Robert Taylor?" I asked.

He laughed. "It's Roger, actually."

"Sorry. Roger." Great first impression, Michelle.

I started to walk out of the airport but I noticed Roger wasn't with me. I turned around and saw he was still standing where we had met. "What are you doing?" I asked when I reached him.

"Waiting for Mack." He said.

"I'm Mack's assistant."

"Oh, right. Sorry. I thought you were just some crazy girl trying to get me to get into your car."

I fake laughed loudly. What a big headed pri-

"What's your name?" He asked, interrupting my thoughts. "Michelle." I said.

"Are you from Germany?" He asked.

"No. London."

"How long have you been working for Mack?" God he asked a lot of questions.

"Only started this week."

"Nice." Finally, some silence.

We both got into the back of Mack's driver's car. "So, Mack said you don't have an assistant. Why's that?"

He asked me a tonne of questions, so now it was my turn.

"Well, my previous assistant was more of my wingman than anything else. But I'm done with women so I don't need him."

"Why are you done with women?"

"Cause the last one I was with cheated on me. So, this time, no women, just work."

We arrived at Musicland and all of the other members of the band were there too. A small man with brown hair, a tall man with large curly hair and a man with a nicely groomed mustache all stood around Mack. "Here's Roger," the curly haired one said.

Roger joined the circle and I left the room to make them all tea. I wasn't looking forward to this experience. It's not easy working with someone when you fancy them.

Later in the afternoon, the band went into the recording booth and Mack called me in. I had kept my distance for most of the day but I was needed at the mixing desk.

By looking at the members, I could nearly guess their role in the band. The one with the mustache had to be the singer. He looked the part. I couldn't tell what the brown haired one or the curly haired one were specifically, but they probably played guitars. And Roger was obviously the drummer, as that was the only position left.

"They're just going to start jamming out," Mack told me. "Will I tell you their names?"

I nodded. "That one is Freddie Mercury. He sings." He said, pointing to the mustached one.

"That's Brian May. He plays lead guitar." He pointed to the curly haired one.

"And that is John Deacon, he plays bass."

They started tossing ideas around but none of them went any further. The main inputter was Brian. Suddenly John started playing a riff on the bass, and Brian joined in on his guitar. Roger kept the beat and Freddie started singing: "It's gotta be Mack!"

The song kept progressing and so did the arguments.

"You're playing too fast John." Brian said, shaking his head of curls.

"No, Roger is."

"I am not John!"

I saw Freddie light a cigarette and roll his eyes. He had been keeping out of it until he went over to them and quietly spoke and they all stopped.

Mack started to play the track again and they kept recording. The song was completed so far and they came out to listen to it. Roger came over and stood behind my chair, placing his hands on the top of it. Mack played it for them and they all hated it. "No, no," said Freddie. "It doesn't sound right."

They all rolled their eyes and went back into the booth, playing the track again, slower this time. After hours and hours of continuously playing the same track, the guys started to get tired. "We'll come back tomorrow and finish it." Brian said to Mack.

I started to leave too, until Mack called me. "Michelle? Can you bring Roger home. He hasn't got his assistant to bring him."

"Sure." I said. The blonde was waiting for me outside the door. "What would you have done if I said no?" I asked, opening my car door while he put put his cigarette.

"I'd get on my knees and beg you." He said with a smirk, getting into the car.

Now that was a sight I would like to see......