*2016*
I flopped to the bed once I read his text; my boyfriend Josh had broken up with me. Again.
Sighing loudly, I opened my laptop and went to Spotify, blasting my Queen playlist. They always made me feel better. They had love songs, but they weren't soppy, or too sad, so they made breakups easy.
That night I texted my friends in my group chat and told them about my boyfriend.
"Good riddance. You don't need him, Ivy." One of them typed.
"Yeah. He's a jerk." Another answered.
I smiled as I saw they always had my back. Only I felt a bit out of place with them.
They weren't like me. They didn't listen to Queen, or The Beatles, and they certainly didn't wish there was a time machine, to where they could go back and see Freddie Mercury in concert. They wouldn't be able to live without their phone's.
And either would I. Maybe I didn't wish I could go back. Maybe I wished there was a way the past could come forward......
*1977*
Brian May, Roger Taylor, John Deacon and Freddie Mercury sat in front of the TV in their London apartment, drinking beer after a long day of working in the studio on their new album, News Of The World.
**Roger Taylor's POV**
As I sat on the couch, a cold can of beer in my hand, I heard Freddie sigh loudly.
"What's wrong?" I asked him.
"Oh. Nothing." He replied, his voice monotone.
"Everything okay Freddie?" John asked, concern across his face.
"Yes. I'm fine." Freddie replied, now angry.
We all sat around the tv, now rather tense. Freddie had a strong impact on our mood, and when he was in a bad one, so were we.
"Uh...." Brian started. "I'm going out."
"Where?" I asked.
"Just... out." He replied.
"He's got a date." John told us, before taking a drink.
"Really?!" I asked, excited for my friend. Brian was a rather awkward and shy guy. And he had just gone on a break from his girlfriend, it was good for him to be with someone new.
Brian left for the night, and John, Freddie and I stayed home. We were watching a Sex Pistols music video on the tv.
Freddie tutted.
"Who do they think they are?" He asked.
"I know," John replied. "I don't like them."
"Does anyone?" I said.
"Well, obviously all those teenagers do... they're at their concert...." John said.
"That's a video John, they're probably paid." Freddie scoffed.
"No, he's right Fred," I said. "I heard a load of teens talking about them outside the record store today."
This was true. I hated the Sex Pistols, but people seemed to enjoy their music, for whatever reason.
"Well, I hope in the future, music becomes better. Only I doubt it..." Freddie said.
John and I nodded our heads in agreement.
"I wish I could go into the future..." Freddie sighed. "Just to see what our music does to the world."
"Me too." I said.
*Narrators POV*
*2016*
That night, Ivy Hazel Peters went to bed with a heavy heart, and a head full of Queen things. She wished and wished every night that somehow, some way, she could go back to the time of Queen, just to tell them how much they meant to her.
And because Queen had wished for the future, her wish would come true.