A Killer Queen (John Deacon)

Chapter three

My eyes opened slowly, my blurred vision scanning my surroundings. I was laying the opposite way that you're supposed to on a bed. I slowly sat up and rubbed my eyes.

That was the hardest I've slept in a while.

Confused at how my head had ended up at the end of the bed, I got up. Now realizing that what woke me was the constant pounding at the door.

I couldn't expect Maggie to get it. She had partied way too hard last night to be any help. I couldn't remember if I had done any drugs last night, maybe I did, maybe I didn't. I don't know. I know I had a drink.

I dragged myself to the door and opened it to see Freddie, looking tired, dressed more down than usual. He smiled lightly, asking if he could come in. I nodded.

"I'm sorry darling I just couldn't stay at my apartment anymore." He said plopping down on our couch.

"Why?" I asked from the kitchen. "Would you like some coffee, Fred?"

"Sure darling and Roger's been puking all night. He continues to as we speak." He told me as he turned on the TV.

"Well, shouldn't you be with him?" I questioned, concerned for Roger's safety.

"Don't worry Brian's over there now. There's nothing to worry about."

"Why didn't you go to Mary's?"

"She was up late last night, she has work in an hour. I don't want to bother her. I know I can bother you right now, you don't work on Saturdays." He said giving me a little smirk.

I laughed and brought Freddie a cup of coffee and sat down next to him. I sipped the coffee as he told me about the party. All the details I had apparently missed out on.

"Roger did way too many shots, and drank way too much, he wouldn't listen to me." Freddie sighed taking a sip of coffee.

"Yes, I remember that part," I said looking at him. "We just gotta keep an eye on him and that's all we can do."

There was a moment of silence.

"So what did you think of our new bassist?" Freddie asked eagerly.

John.

I had totally forgotten about him.

My mind had been a bit foggy all morning but how could he just slip my mind?

"He's nice," I responded plainly, sipping my drink. He looked at me oddly.

"You and him disappeared for like an hour." He said raising an eyebrow.

"Oh no, we didn't...no," I said shaking my head. "I just kept him company. We talked."

Freddie stared at me. As if trying to read me.

"I haven't talked to John today," Freddie said suspiciously changing the subject. He seemed to be holding something back. "I hope he's alright."

Suddenly another memory had surfaced.

"That thing you guys did to him last night wasn't okay," I told him. "It gave him an anxiety attack!" I said suddenly angry.

Freddie nodded sadly.

"I know. Mary told me. If I was soberer I would have stopped it."

"After he felt better he went to get a drink and I didn't see him again," I told him.

"He found us and we gave him a drink. We hung out for a while but after that, I don't know either. He disappeared."

We ended up watching the telly until Maggie got up, hours later. It was around one. She was very hungover and asked nobody to talk to her until she felt better. She went into the kitchen, got some coffee and cereal, and went back to bed without a word.