Freddie Mercury: Imagines

Un(1): Wet and Frustrated...pt.1

(07-02-19: I want to note this is made up. And of course, I don't believe Freddie would throw water at someone for their attention. It's made up, and it was my first idea.
07-12-19: ALSO, I know Freddie would never be this harsh to someone, I KNOW THAT! Let me be, alright, this was my first ever image!)

*****

With a loud scoff, my father folded up the newspaper and set it back down on the table. "Did you see that? Another rumor that Freddie is out in the pubs again. Unbelievable. How can you work for that man?"

"Dad, he's not as bad as you think he is." I replied eating the spoonful of cereal in my mouth.

My dad rolled his eyes. "Why couldn't you have worked for Pink Floyd? Or Def Leppard? Bon Jovi? Or even that black boy Michael Jackson!"

"Dad, I'm perfectly happy working for Queen. If you don't like it, then take a plane ticket back home." I looked at the clock on the wall. "I'm going to be late."

"You know that this is dangerous water your stepping in right? You can easily switch!" Father called from the kitchen.

"Bye!" I called, completely ignoring his remark.

*****

"Will's here!" Roger said into the mic to the studio.

John was sitting on the edge of the stage, tuning his bass while Brian sat with a booklet in one hand and a pen in the other. I placed my coat on the arm of the couch and squinted my eyes.

"How long have you been here?" I asked.

"An hour or so." Roger shrugged.

"Freddie hasn't shown up yet?" I questioned, even though I knew the answer.

Roger shook his head, answering my question with words. I knew I shouldn't have expected something different. What was I thinking? The papers had everything out already. There was no use at this point. I didn't need to wait.

"You need anything? Coffee, tea, something to bite on?" I asked.

Roger, once again, shook his head no. I nodded my head before poking my head into the recording studio. "You guys need anything?"

"I'm good." Brian answered.

"I'm also good." John responded.

I nodded my head and closed the door. I guess I was getting a coffee for myself before my laundry list for Freddie came in. I grabbed my coat and started to head out the doors. As soon as I walked down two steps though, a strong hand grabbed my arm. I lifted my head to be met with those beady brown eyes.

"Where do you think you're going?" Freddie's hard voice rang through my ears.

"Getting a coffee." I replied with a blunt tone. "You weren't there earlier, so I have no errands to run for you."

"You're not going anywhere." Freddie spat. "I need you're help."

I rolled my eyes. "Let me guess, you want me to iron you're shir-"

"No. Stop trying to get ahead of yourself dear." Freddie's hand released my arm. "Besides, today I have other problems."

"Already saw in the paper this morning." I mumbled.

"What was that darling?" Freddie asked.

I shrugged. "Whatever you want it to be, sir."

The corner of Freddie's mouth twitched as his eyes went cold. 'Trying to build up you're wall isn't going to help. I've worked for you for six months now, I know what to expect'.

"Just get in the damn building before I fire you." Freddie commanded before striding off.

I rolled my eyes. "So much for my coffee." 

Turning on my heels, I walked back to the studio where now all three instrumentalists were composing a song. Freddie was pulling out a cigarette from his packet.

"Where'd my lighter go?" Freddie asked with the cigarette between his teeth.

I pulled a lighter out of my pocket and handed it to him. Freddie took it out of my hands and lit his cigarette. I sat down on the couch, waiting for whatever errand I had to do.

"What do we have done so far?" Freddie asked through the mic.

"We're working on Put Out the Fire Fred." Roger responded.

"Well, stop it, I have other ideas." Freddie said.

"What do you want now?" Brian asked.

"We've been working on this bloody song forever. I'm getting bored, is there anything else we can do-"

I tuned out after a while. I wasn't paying attention to what they were saying. I was looking at the way Freddie stood and the way he acted. He seemed to be normal on the outside, somewhat. Other than the fact that his eyes were red and baggy, he seemed fine. But I could tell there was much on his mind. Probably thinking about what him and Paul were going to do later.

Speaking of Paul, where is he? Usually he's all over Freddie's heels. Not that I'm complaining, it's nice to not have him around. With a mustache too big for his rat face, I don't understand how he can manipulate someone like Freddie.

Maybe dad was right...maybe Freddie isn't such a great influence for me. Hell, I know those are only scandals, but how much of it is true? How much is Freddie doing each night? And why? Why would-

Something cold and wet was thrown over my face. I gasped in shock, standing to my feet to remove my jacket. I wiped my face to get whatever wet spots I could get off of my face.

"Will! Are you finally listening?" Freddie's annoyed voice echoed.

I deflected his question. "What the hell was that for?!"

"You weren't listening! I needed to get your attention somehow." Freddie quipped calmly.

"That doesn't mean you throw water into someone!" I shouted.

"Don't raise you're voice at me!" Freddie hissed.

I let out a growl. "Oh, I could just-"

"You could what? Hit me? Ha, not with those tiny hands." Freddie rolled his eyes, taking another puff.

After a long hard stare, I made up my mind without thinking twice about it. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my badge. "Fine, I won't hit you. I quit."

Freddie's eyes softened for a split second. "You can't quit."

"Why can't I? It's my choice, I can make whatever fucking decision I want!" I remarked.

"But I choose whether you're decisions are right or wrong. Sorry Will, this one isn't right. Try again." Freddie pushed my badge back towards me.

"I refuse to take that filthy thing." I spat. "Maybe my father was right, I should have taken another job."

Freddie's eyes darkened. "You're out of your mind to think that you'll be able to get a job after this."

"What do you mean-"

"If you quit, I will make sure you're life's career is at an end. I could easily do it with the snap of my fingers." Freddie snapped his fingers in front of my now horrified face.

I needed a job to survive. My mom and dad would never loan me money, not after what happened-

I threw my hands up in defense. "Fine! Fine, I give up. You win Freddie, you fucking win. Are you satisfied with yourself?"

Freddie's mouth curved into a small smirk. "I always am, darling. Now," Freddie placed the badge into my pocket, "go home and change. It looks like you were just robbed."

"I don't need to-"

"That's my order." Freddie snapped.

I nodded my head. "Alright."

"Oh, and grab me a bottle of white wine." Freddie added.

"Saint Saphorin?" I asked.

Freddie winked at me before I left the studio room. 'Of course you win, you always do.'