XIV.

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I sit in the passenger side of the car, leg bouncing nervously as I bite at my thumb nail. It's not everyday that a manager wants to meet with a band no ones ever heard of, much less someone who manages someone as famous as Elton John. With the new album days away from being completed, this could be an absolute game changer for the boys and getting the music out there.

Freddie had wanted me to come in to meet John Reid with the band, but I had decided on sitting out in the car, telling him that it's the band he wants to meet, anxiety also nicely twined into that mix. There had been some push back from all the boys, but I had convinced them that I would be an unnecessary body and they had eventually disappeared inside the river side restaurant.

Around thirty minutes after I last saw them, I'm leaned against the side of the car, a cigarette between my middle and forefinger as I try and calm that nagging voice in my brain. I manage to quiet myself by thinking of all the reasons why Reid will absolutely want to sign the band. How could he not? They're star quality and they each know it, so he'll have to see it too.

"Clementine!" My gaze snaps up to the voice, finding Freddie waving me down. I reach into the open window of the car, scuffing the cigarette in the ash tray before looking back at them, searching for any sign of disappointment. What I find instead is all four of them have stupid boyish grins plastered on their faces as they bound towards me. I can't help the laugh that bubbles from my throat as I meet them halfway, getting engulfed in a bear hug from all of them.

"I take it it went well?" I ask, muffled by clothing.

"Well?" Freddie scoffs, "darling you're looking at a band managed by John Reid!" Their contagious smiles find their way to my face and I can't help the bubbly feeling in my chest.

"Things are happening," I say, twisting my tongue in my mouth as we all look around at each other.

"They sure as hell are," Roger responds.

"Alright, I think we should go celebrate, yeah?" I turn to go back towards the car, but Freddie stops me.

"You've got to meet Reid first," he says and I whip my head back to him, furrowing my brows.

"But-"

"So this is Queen's muse?" I look to my side at the
unfamiliar voice, finding a somewhat neat looking man coming towards us with another one on his tail.

"Muse?" I repeat, looking to the boys who shrug, smiles on their faces.

"I'm John Reid, and this is Paul Pretner," he holds his hand out to me and I take it after only a moments hesitation.

"Clementine Landers," I reply.

"From what I've been told, you're quite the help to the band." I give a questioning look as he looks around at the men. "They say you're a mediator of sorts and keep the peace in the recording studio."

"I suppose that's right, yes," I say, finding that it is in fact true.

"That among helping with songwriting and recording," he adds on, all things I never really thought about, "Freddie also says you're very talented when it comes to both performance preparations and doing the preforming arts yourself."

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