Time Waits For No One (A Freddie Mercury Fanfiction)

The Sink

8pm at The Sink club, the air was filled with promise...and the slightest tinge of weed. Outside a queue was piling up as students in grubby old tees lined themselves up to delve into the depths of the cellar below. Psychedelic sounds wafted up from the underworld below where a faint blue light beckoned you to discover their source.

Freddie and the boys were off doing a quick soundcheck just before they'd let the audience in. You were walking about scouting the best place to watch, right up front of course was your usual choice and tonight it had to be, tonight was special.

You got to talking with some kid named Micheal working for the club. He'd looked rather depressed as he sat on some beer crates and leaned up against the dark walls. You'd tried to put him in good spirits for tonight's gig but he was rather plagued by the idea that "soul is dead in Liverpool and that bloody Neil English, the owner that started it all, is selling up". Poor sap, you'd felt sort of sorry for him. He went on and on about the recent ongoings of the club circle in Liverpool and you did all you could but there really wasn't coming to terms with his troubles.

Freddie and the boys were still busy tuning and warming up and you'd come over to lend Geoff a hand with his reel-to-reel tape recorder, he'd sounded a little troubled by his setup.

"I think I need something to hold it up, just so we can get a better sound, what have we got?" started Geoff, fiddling with the Grundig TK14.

"We could put it up on an amp," suggested Tupp, still in the middle of tuning.

"No, that'll blow out the bass," replied Geoff. You looked around for something to prop it up on. You looked back over at Micheal—the beer crates. You walked over, kindly asked if you could borrow them and told him not to worry, tonight was a good night. And it really was.

Tonight was the night of that legendary first recording, the recording that now seemed so far away considering the last time you'd heard this show was back in 2017. Being here, in person, now that would be a completely different story.

"Will these work?" you said to Geoff, two beer crates in hand.

"Perfect!" exclaimed Geoff who immediately got to work with his whole setup. He was very meticulous about his rig, the tape stood atop the crates and the little old fashioned mono, crystal microphone hung down by it's own wire. Little did he know the historical significance of what he was recording now. It wasn't a perfect rig, but it was the best for the circumstance and thank goodness it was there.

Freddie found you and wrapped his hands around your waist as he pulled you close and enveloped you in a sweet kiss on your cheek that rung of anticipation for the night to come. You twirled around and found yourself entranced within the glimmer in his eyes.

"You ready?" you smiled, looking deep into his eyes reflecting back that same shine.

"More than ever," he replied, as he got closer to kissing you.

"Excited?" you asked, as an excuse to get even closer.

"Most definitely," he replied, now only mere inches away, his forehead pressed to yours.

"Nervous?" you teased a little.

"Quite possibly," he answered, and kissed you, pulling you in even closer. You found it difficult not to smile, the warmth and love you felt as he held you, it felt all too good not to, "But not when I've got you here," he continued and then kissed you again.

"You're going to do fabulously," you said looking into his eyes once more, his hand in yours.

"Oh I know," he replied in complete confidence but with the Freddie twinge of tease.