Time Waits For No One (A Freddie Mercury Fanfiction)

The Who, What, and Where

As you took your first conscious breath, you felt something different in the air. Your fingers gently caressed the softness of the bedsheets' silk—it had never felt this soft before. You dipped your head back into the pillow and as you turned your head, the sun began to softly warm your eyelids, so you opened them.

And you just stared.

This was not your room.

There was a glass window with a simple beveled pattern. There were long curtains to its sides and underneath was a large white radiator. You jumped up and looked out the window. Outside, all the houses looked exactly the same and in the front of each of their driveways were old cars from the 50s or 60s. You shook your head for a second as to quite not accept even disbelief.

You turned to the room. On the bedside table was a clock, a lamp, and little scraps of handwritten notes. Above the table hung a calendar as you saw it, everything stopped.

"June 1964," you read it aloud to yourself and still couldn't believe it. This had to be fake—didn't it. It was all a dream, a delusion, a delirium. It had to be. 

You closed your eyes once more and squinted, doing your best to wake yourself up. When you opened them, the room still lay in front of you. 

You ran over to the window, placing your hand upon the wooden frame of the sill as you gazed out over the houses. Each were exactly identical, red roofing, chestnut stucco, a covered entry way, and two windows. What was this place?

Suddenly you heard a noise down the hall. In a panic, you flew back underneath the covers and closed your eyes. You could try your best to pretend to be asleep, but your heart rate would betray you. You were rather in a state of alarm. 

The door began to creak ever so slightly. You could hear the carpet fibers shifting as someone tiptoed their way in. Your nerves begged you to open your eyes, but you wouldn't dare. 

The faint footsteps grew closer. Before you knew it, they were beside you. A wooden drawer opened. Curiosity was slinking its way up your spine, grabbing ahold of your fears and finally temping you enough to open your eyes.

Long silken rays of light revealed a boy. He had a slim figure, full lips that only sunlight had kissed, and a strong jawline that crisply gave his face its unique and beautiful shape. The sun silhouetted him beautifully. As if you could paint him then and there, simply by using the array of color that shown through the sunbeams surrounding him.

Without warning, the boy turned to you.

"Oh," he said softly with an elegant, posh English accent that seemed to flow out of him almost musically, "You're awake," he said with a smile. You could now see his teeth, awfully large for a boy his size, but very well suited. He bowed his head after speaking and pulled his lip down over his teeth. He acted as if he had to be embarrassed by waking up in some strangers bed. You blushed yourself. 

He then looked back up at you again, almost studying your face. You looked deeply into his big brown eyes, a mahogany hue with velveteen sheen. You couldn't help but let a smile over your slight embaressment. Where were you exactly?

"Um," you stuttered, your mind now racing just as much as your heart. You then sat up in the bed, trying to wrap your brain around the situation. You had no idea where you were, but something about this boy seemed oddly familiar, "Sorry, but where am I?" you shook your head, trying to wake yourself up once more. 

The boy at first seemed slightly taken aback, most-likely by your accent and confusion, but that quickly ended and he stood with an intent stare and wanted to help.

"You're in England, darling," he said, letting his confidence catch his tongue. His upper lip found a place above his teeth once more, hiding them from view. Then his smile fell back onto his face and he found his footing, "As to how you got here, haven't the slightest," he found humor in his remark, "I'm Freddie, by the way," he introduced himself with an outstretched hand, "Freddie Bulsara".