Every time you make a move

Flashback filler-While I'm far away from you: pt 2

"Good, I mean, I was anxious about the space left in the flat..." he trailed off, running a hand through his hair.

"I understand" he heard her just about whisper, with nothing much else to say.

He felt a tap on his shoulder, and turned around, pulling receiver down from his ear.

"You almost done? Our gate popped up" Deaky said, pointing at the monitor hanging from the ceiling.

Freddie quickly nodded, and turned back to the phone call, "Sorry darling, there was a knock on the hotel door. I presume it's either John or Roger, so I must go"

"Ring me when it's morning there, won't you?" She pleaded.

The pain and desperation in her voice made him wince. 

He watched over his shoulder as the boys and crew picked up their bags, security restraining members of the Japanese public that recognised them. His instinct was to get out and move along before he could get ambushed by fans when they were in a hurry; an airport wasn't the place to devote time to autograph-signing.

"I promise... I love you." He bit his lip to hold back his tears.

"I love you too" he heard her sucking in a breath.

An automated message in Japanese to insert more change played. He looked over to see an anxious Jim Beach tapping his wrist to gesture that he was running out of time.

"What was that?" She asked.

"That's the... the hotel operator on the line," he tried to come up with something convincing, "Darling, I really must go"

"Okay well... I'll talk to you later, I suppose"

"Of course... goodbye."

"Have a good meal" she responded.

Although in such a situation the perfect response was actually Have a good flight, but he didn't have the heart to tell her the truth at that moment.

He hung up, and rushed back over to his group.

"All sorted?" Brian asked him earnestly.

Freddie nodded, reaching down to pick up his suitcase, "I'm ready, folks"

"Thank fuck, I thought that you were arranging an appointment with a mile high call girl or call boy!" Roger joked.

Brian elbowed him in the ribs, causing him to yelp, "Nobody asked for that"

"He was talking to Monica, silly" John added.

"I could've gone out and had a smoke in that length of time" Roger continued to argue as Freddie zoned out.

He felt their eyes on him as he followed the signpost to customs. He was too distant to care about Roger's crudeness.

"I just want to be home... in my own bed, at my own piano, with my own record collection and not all this bloody Muzak in elevators and j-pop, surrounded by my cats..."

As usual, his thoughts went back to Monica.

"I just want to hold her again, kiss her again, take care of her again-"

"How did it go?" John interrupted his daydream, gripping into the handrail of the escalator and leaning close.

"She believed me," Freddie nodded, staring straight ahead. "I could tell she was blown, but she took it well"

"...Are you sure you're doing the right thing?" The bassist asked again, "You don't think it's too cruel to be so dishonest like that?"

Freddie remained tight lipped, eyes watering.

When they reached the top of the escalator, he turned back to Deaky, "I'm doing it out of love"

"Love...?" John mused.

Freddie nodded, and put his aviators back on before rushing ahead to the security barriers, not wanting to answer any more questions.

John already met Monica once when Freddie brought her into Wessex over a week before, and he thought she was a nice girl. She wasn't too quiet or too playful like Freddie's type, just naïve as it seemed. He remembered watching them both behind the glass, thinking about how smitten he was with her. He certainly wasn't that way with Mary. That still gave him hope amidst a disaster brewing, just like all of Freddie's previous relationships. It seemed to him as though the more famous Freddie got, the more senseless and destructive he became.

"But Fred, you've only known her for a month... and she's only eighteen!" Deaky thought, following close behind. "Don't mess this one up!"

Stafford Terrace, London

Meanwhile, halfway across the world, Monica's morning had been seemingly ruined by Freddie's words which replayed in her head as soon as she hung up upon hearing the dial tone:

"I can't come home tonight, I'm sorry"

Nothing had prepared her for how much she was going to miss him. But this was the man she fell for, and this is what his lifestyle entailed. She'd have to bear the pain. And knowing that he'd be gone months at a time was unimaginable, and she didn't know how it was going to work.

"Oh Mandy," Monica picked up the small black and white cat at her feet, "Daddy's not coming home tonight."

She mewed her little head off, as if to protest.

"I know," she held the kitten up against her upper chest as she started to sob, "I miss him a lot too"

She'd listened to Queen records now and then throughout week to help her cope and feel Freddie's presence, and one song from Day at the Races that she knew since year before when it came out was Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy. The lyrics got stuck in her head after she listened to it once again, and the words really did become profound after a week of missing him.

"When I'm not with you," she sang, "Think of me always, I miss you..."

The kitten in her arms began to purr and rub her head underneath Monica's chin as she continued, lips trembling:

"When I'm not with you, think of me always, I love you, love you..."

Mandy noised in complaint as Monica's tears fell on her fur, stretching her head and licking them off.

"Oh I'm sorry, I'm making you wet, ain't I?" she set her onto her pillow and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her pyjama top.

Mandy purred as she continued washing the salty liquid off of her fur, and Monica's eyes panned across Freddie's empty side of the mattress.

She'd been sleeping there the whole week, every night clutching onto his pillow which still had his aroma the morning he left.

She picked it up and engulfed her face into the cotton, inhaling the traces of his scent that were now faded. Whatever cologne or aftershave he had been using, he'd taken it with him to Japan.

"The only trace of his being left," Monica huffed, dropping the pillow onto her lap as she slouched against the headboard, "it feels like he will be gone forever at this point"

*Sorry that this chapter is so rushed and short (I literally am publishing it from the bath), I just wanted to get it out of the way because it's my birthday on Tuesday and I have a bunch of things I want to focus on applying to do over the summer. Hope you all at least liked it :)*