Somebody To Love -{ English Version - Freddie Mercury Or Queen Fanfic}

1 - Julia from Glasgow

London , April 1977.

Being a woman is not easy and that's all I have to say.

Okay, not literally, but initially it's what I have as the main point of all this.

So... being a woman and having an ambitious family is extremely difficult, and yes, I know this does not explain much. My name is Julia Quinn, that's Quinn and not Queen, as some people like to write. I completed 22 years recently and ran away from an engagement recently. Wow. Exciting, right?

Nah, there's nothing exciting apart from the fact that my supposed fiancé is a duke and a disgusting man who is more than twice my age, and of course, we can not forget that this whole idea was from my parents. But let's not waste time talking about these details now.

If I could sum up the last 72 hours I would use two words: total madness. Imagine I was leaving Glasgow under heavy rain, running with what I could get and a modest sum of pounds that was enough to pay for the train ticket and count on the generosity of my godmother who kindly got me a job interview with a longtime friend of hers, John Reid. The job actually was curious, imagine me as an assistant to a rock band, and well, briefly that's all that brings me up to Highbury New Park. Normally I would be wearing jeans and one of my shirts with a good woolen coat, a pair of boots and of course a scarf but everything I brought with me was not fit for a job interview, and ironically, my best was my dress white engagement, which obviously had a generous slit that at the time was my worst enemy against the cold. London as Glasgow is cold most of the time even in the middle of spring.

Walking the streets of Highbury I feel my stomach protesting for more food after my modest breakfast. I take a deep breath trying to ignore that at least seventy-two hours I live the base of peanuts and water, since I need money to get around and pay the lowly room rate in Kensington.I took my hand in the pocket on the right side of my black overcoat and searched for the piece of paper where the Wessex Studio address was noted and how I should look for this John Reid. The delicate handwriting of my godmother made my eyes feel filled with tears as I remembered that at least someone cared enough to help me out of that madness. I let out a long sigh and narrowed my eyes so I could filter the building numbers better.

All I knew about this friend of my godmother was that he was the manager of a band that I heard once or twice on the radio in Glasgow - I'm in love with my car that was enough to make me twist my nose in disgust and traumatize me to the point where I do not remember the name of another song - but they were becoming more and more successful and needed someone to help them in the day to day. Well, aside from the fact that the song about loving your own car makes me roll my eyes every time - understand it's an extremely weird song and it hints at very strange things for a car - I think I can handle this.

For the first time I smiled that day when my eyes finally found my destiny.

"Finally" I practically scream internally.

The old building passed far from looking like a recording studio, surrounded by huge trees and windows the place could possibly be someone's residence. The old building had a tall roof that resembled a chalet, the black grilles around the house reminded me of my parents' house in Glasgow with its low lawn and small trees , it seemed like a nice place.

"Ok Julia." I said taking slow steps toward the entrance.  "You can talk less scottish, you've been training since you were 15. "I clear my throat in the hope that my loaded Scottish accent will not be so obvious.

I filled my lungs again with air and lifted my chin as if seeking confidence from it as I opened the Wessex Studio door. The place was extremely intimate, the walls were dark in color, there were sofas in the leather reception area and a chin-drop chandelier.