Maylor Oneshots

Mixtape

July 1977
Brian sat on the couch in the studio, scribbling away in a worn out black notebook full of songs. John was playing around with his bass in the corner, being quiet as he always is. Freddie was late as always so it was awfully quiet. Roger, who was sat with his legs over the armrest of the chair beside the couch, twirled his drumsticks around in one hand. The blond got up with a huff. He made his way to sit next to Brian who was thoroughly focused on his writing.

"Whatcha got there, Brian?" Roger asked while he peered over Brians shoulder.

"Uh, nothing much. Just this song I've got going here." Brian replied, glancing up from his work at the drummer.

"May I take a look?" Roger asked, one brow raised as he got a glimpse of a few sloppily written words.

Brian nodded before he scanned over his work and handed it to the blond. "Here you are," he said.

Roger took the notebook in his hands and read over the slanted writing. His eyes darted from word to word, each word his small smile grew wider.
"You're staring at me
With suspicion in your eye
You say what game are you playing?
What's this that you're saying?
I know that I can't reply
If I take you tonight
Is it making my life a lie?
Oh you make me wonder
Did I live my life right?"
Roger re-read the verse in a quiet voice, his eyes glimmering with awe. "This is amazing, Bri," the drummer said as he looked up from the notebook into the guitarists hopeful eyes.

Brian bit down on his lower lip, he took the notebook back and placed it on his lap, "you really think so?"

Roger nodded and smiled, "of course. What's it called?"

Brian looked down at the notebook then back at the drummer. "I was thinking of calling it 'It's late', but I'm not so sure."

"Oh I think it's perfect! I saw the chorus you scribbled down," Roger pointed at the crossed out chorus, "I like it. Sounds nice."

Brian smiled, "thank you, Roger. Means a lot."

Just then as Roger smiled back, Freddie burst through the doors dramatically with his head held high. The three all snapped their heads up as Freddie entered.

"Guess what, whores?" Freddie called out in his classy accent.

"What?" The three said in unison, making their way to Freddie who held a newspaper in his hand. They all peered at the newspaper then Freddie stepped back with a wave of his hand, "oh back off, the papers have nothing to do with this! I just like getting caught up on the daily news!"

"Then what is it, Fred?" Brian asked curiously, his hands placed on his hips.

"Well, I have written a song I would like to share with you all. I call it, 'We Are The Champions'." Freddie explained. He held up a open notebook that was unnoticed in his other hand. "I had finished it just last night. I would like for you all to review it."

The singer walked over to the couch and plopped down on it before setting down the notebook on the wooden coffee table. The three took seats around the coffee table as well, scanning over the lyrics.

Roger pursed his lips, "Hm.. 'and bad mistakes, I've made a few' is that referring to the time you ate my food that was in the fridge, Fred?"

"Oh shut up you blond twink and read my song!" Freddie laughed. Rogers face had immediately turned bright red and his eyes widened in shock from the name.