Secret Elation | Brian May x Reader

15.

One month later, on July nineteenth, a man named Brian Harold May turned twenty-five years old. The surprise party for him would be held at Roger's flat, and start at nine at night.
It was currently seven-thirty p.m., and you were out, having dinner with a friend you made about three weeks ago. Your friend's name was George, and you met at a pub. Yes, you two were just friends.

"Oh, George?" You asked, after he took the first bite of his food that had just gotten served.

"Hm?" He asked, which was all he could answer without chewing with his mouth open.

"Could you drop me off at a friend's house after dinner?" You asked him, referring to if you could get dropped off a Roger's. "I know his address, so I could just lead you." You added, making it more easy for him to say yes.

"Yeah, I don't see why not." He agreed, once he swallowed his food. It was more convenient this way, because you had to be at Roger's early anyway.

"Thanks." You smiled before taking a bite of your chicken.

After you both were done eating, had paid the bill, and were in the car, it was eight-fifteen. It was dark, and you were giving George directions to Roger's flat as wind blew in your face and through your hair due to the open car window. You were excited, when Queen had parties, they had good ones. Plus, you just loved to party.

"You know, red and pink really isn't a great choice." You chuckled, trying to break the silence as you referred to George's red pants and the pink shirt he was wearing.

"Fuck you." He blurted, but not in the same joking tone as you had. You were kidding, but he sounded serious.

"Sorry?" You asked, in a way of asking him to repeat himself.

"Don't talk about my fucking clothes." He ordered, completely blowing your statement out of proportion.

Then, for the rest of the car ride, it was silent except when you told him where to drive. You didn't understand what the big deal was, you were only kidding but he seemed genuinely hurt. George was very sensitive, so what was a joking comment to you, was a serious insult to him. But you didn't know that. Before you knew it, he pulled in front of Roger's apartment building and sat in silence, looking out the window whilst he waited for you to get out.

"If that really offended you," You said, looking at him and wondering why he wasn't looking at you in return. "I'm sorry."

He stayed quiet, staring out the window so you just took a hint and began getting out of the car. Once you were standing outside his vehicle, with your hand on the the door, he said something.

"Say hi to your dad for me." He told you, trying to get you back but he didn't know that he went way too fair with that.

Your face dropped, your eyebrows furrowed, and your empty hand became a clenched fist.

"Screw you." You exclaimed before slamming his car door shut.

You had no idea where that came from, or what even just happened. You just stood there, watched him drive away as you thought about your dead dad. Usually thinking about him didn't bother you, but for some reason, when George said that it made you not sad, but angry.

You took a few deep breaths, and once you were calmed down you walked inside the building, trudged up the stairs, and knocked on Roger's door.

"Who is it?" You heard Freddie ask, surprised it wasn't Roger who asked the question.

"It's me." You told him, knowing he'd recognize your voice.