Stars in Your Eyes (Queen/Roger Taylor)

11. Skylar

"Miss Evans."

I look up, suddenly keenly aware that the eyes of nine medical students are trained on me. Fuck.

"Uh, yes, sir?" I reply primly, hoping that it's not completely obvious that I haven't heard a thing that he said.

"Would you like to demonstrate the technique?" Dr. Kennedy looks pointedly at me, daring me to say yes even though I clearly had not been paying attention. Luckily, I had spent most of the night before reading up on this.

"Of course," I say, walking over to him with false confidence and picking up the needle. The steel instrument is shockingly cold and unexpectedly weighty. I look down at the cadaver on the table and take a steadying breath. Just before I start the procedure, my eyes dart over to my best friend in the program, who winks encouragingly.

I hold my breath the entire time, praying that I remember how to do the intricate stitch. The world around me disappears as all my focus goes to my quicky moving hands. Finally, I finish and take a step back, placing the instruments in the steel tin on the operating table.

Dr. Kennedy walks over to inspect my work, his eyes finally rising to meet mine. "Well done, Miss Evans." I smile inwardly, having just managed to impress the notoriously hard-ass doctor. But my self-congratulatory phase is short-lived, as we're whisked down the hall to the next assignment.

Three hours later, I walk out of the hospital just as it's getting dark. Spotting my bus in the distance, I break into a run and only just manage to jump on before it pulls away. Collapsing in a seat towards the back, I lean my head against the window and, very shortly, fall asleep. A few minutes later, I awake with a start, completely confused. Looking frantically out of the window, I realize that I've missed my stop.

As I alight at the next stop, my eyes are pulled towards a faded, ripped black & white poster on the side of the cafe. Printed on it are the faces of the four members of Queen alongside an announcement that their debut LP is available to buy. Freddie's face is partially obscured by another advertisement, and the picture of the album has faded to almost nothing.

Walking closer, I peer at the image of Roger. His hooded eyes stare back at me, a scowl on his face, and his hair messily teased. The four of them look so severe that it's difficult to remember that they're absolute goofs. My eyes are drawn to Roger's striped socks, a sight so incongruous with the rest of the staged photo that it makes me smile. Then, as if of its own accord, my hand reaches out to touch Roger's face.

A truck drives by, the loud roar of the engine snapping me out of my reverie. God, am I so pathetic and sleep-deprived that I'm standing around on Claxton Road caressing a poster? I retract my arm quickly and look around to be sure that no one has seen me. Thankfully, the tiny street is nearly deserted.

I hurry home, shutting the door firmly behind me. As I'm tugging off my shoes and fantasizing about shoveling pasta in my mouth so that I can curl up in bed, the phone rings.

"Skylar!" a warm voice echoes over the line, bringing a smile to my face.

"Hi, mum," I reply with a grin, my fatigue momentarily disappearing.

"Just back from the hospital?" she asks brightly. I hum in response. My mum is no stranger to life as a med student, as it was once her life too. We chit-chat for a few minutes as I boil water for my spaghetti. I really need to learn how to cook properly.

"Have you spoken to your dad?" my mum asks casually. I freeze, voiding my face of emotion even though she can't see me. I had spent all of Christmas Day with this exact expression, as had my brother.