One Year of Love || Freddie Mercury Sequel

One: Bumpy Starts

Freddie, 1986

I'm never fucking touring ever again.

I'm so exhausted, despite having to do one more show. Don't get me wrong, before I used to be exhausted after all my shows. Now, I seem like I could just fall into a deep sleep and never wake up. My throat hurts like a bitch and I can barely even feel my legs.

I propped myself down on one of the sofas, my towel still wrapped around my neck as Roger handed me a glass to drink.

"Great show everyone!" Roger said as he took a seat next to me. "It was fucking phenomenal!"

"It was." Brian nodded. "Even the crowd was very interactive."

"Made my job much easier." I said with a side smile.

"Where's John?" Brian asked.

"Last I saw him he was piss drunk." Roger stated, taking a sip from his glass. "I don't know where he went."

I shook my head. "He's going to ruin himself if he keeps drinking that much."

"I tried to tell him to stop, but he won't." Roger stated seriously. "I guess we just... have to leave him alone."

With a sigh, I set my glass on the table in front of me and removed my towel from my neck. "I think I'm going to call it a night."

"I thought you said we were going to go drinking!" Roger exclaimed.

"I'm sorry, but I'm fucking out of it tonight. Another time?" I offered.

"Fine. But you owe me!" Roger said, his finger pointing at me.

I bit my goodbyes and headed out of the building, into the night. I leaned back in the seat, closing my eyes with a sigh through my nose. Only one more day of this and we're done. Probably for the rest of our career.

I love the crowds, don't get me wrong. But goddamn, the exhaustion I feel after all the tours is starting to creep up on me. It has become worse as the days went on. I don't think I've ever felt this tired doing tours, but I'm glad it will be over.

That means I'll be able to spend more time with Jim. He won't have to worry about me being gone all the time. We could go on vacation together, be able to enjoy each other.

Unlike Daniel did when he fucking left the house- no, no, you're over it. He's not coming back. No matter how hard I tried to find him...

Yes, on that topic, I did try to find Daniel. I spent way too much of my fucking time to try and find a man who left me. But, I didn't find him. I never will, and that's that. It's fucking over.

The car came to a stop. I thanked my driver and headed into the hotel we were all staying at. Not a super luxurious thing, but grand enough for Queen. I made my way straight to my room, taking a long shower as soon as I got in.

I wonder how my children are doing. Hopefully Tiffany isn't being the dramatic diva she is. I also wonder how Jim's doing. I haven't seen him in a long while.

I stepped out, running my hands through my hair. That fucking bald spot better go soon.

I walked out and headed into my bedroom. A large suitcase sat on the ground, clothes scattered all around it. With a huff, I changed into something much more comfortable and headed straight to the phone. I needed to call Jim before I did anything else.