In the year 1971, astronomy student and aspiring guitarist Brian May's ill-fated camping trip may have more consequences than he first realized. Small but unexplainable things start to happen to him after he is bit by a dog in Humpy Bong Forest. His...
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The night grew pale over London as Freddie marched to Hyde Park with his shoulders hunched over and his clenched fists shoved into his pockets. His gaze was stern, unwavering, determined, and fixed on the concrete ahead of him. When people saw him coming their way, they would move to the side of the sidewalk to let him through. If someone shined a torch at Freddie just right, they would see steam coming out of his ears.
Freddie didn't know who he was more pissed at, the people who attacked his brothers or Roger for being a dickhead and getting them in the situation. If he had just come straight to the shop instead of trying to take Brian out for a little snack this wouldn't have happened in the first place, Freddie thought. The little mental image of his bandmates in terror with some bloke holding them at knifepoint paraded around his head like it owned the place. Freddie desperately tried to drown it out with his frustration towards Roger (And I suppose Brian isn't completely innocent either, Freddie figured,) for not showing up to work and forcing him to close up early to trek halfway across town to meet up with them for some teenage girl slumber party spill-all. This frustration was most familiar to him and therefore sorted as the top priority.
He came across the entrance to Hyde Park closet to Brian's flat.
"I assume that they went this way," Freddie said aloud for no one to hear but the empty night.
His adrenaline coursed through his veins like river rapids and lightning shot to his fingertips. He felt like he was entering a boxing arena like he did while he was younger. Freddie instinctively jumped up and down and stretched out his arms as he prepared to fight an invisible opponent.
A man was sitting down on a park bench in front of him and a lamp illuminated his blond hair and delicate face. Roger.
"What the bloody hell did you think that you were doing leaving me to tend to the shop all by myself? That you and Brian would play a game a hide and seek like schoolboys? And get fucking mugged?" Freddie yelled at him.
Roger jumped up from his seat and scream whispered back to Freddie, "Shh, Fred! Lower your voice. You'll scare him off!"
I'm getting too old for this, Freddie thought as he jogged up to his friend. "Scare who off? Where is Brian?" he asked.
Roger trembled and put his hands on Freddie's shoulders like he was a father talking to his son. Freddie fought the urge to slap them off, but he realized that Roger was being serious. Worry sunk into his blue eyes as he looked into Freddie's brown ones.
"What's wrong, darling? The anticipation is truly killing me," Freddie said with flakes of bitterness littered in his tone.
Roger squeezed his shoulders and responded, "Stay here. And promise you won't try to run away or try to hurt him."
Freddie sighed and gave up on his tough facade. "Okay, dear. I promise," Freddie replied.
Roger nodded solemnly. He walked down from the bench to a dim-lit cluster of bushes and began rustling through them.
