Don't Talk! (Freddie Mercury / Queen)

2. If I Could Turn Back Time

H.G
New York, USA
30th May (The Next Day)

"Look, you being a jerk to celebrities is fun and all, sells magazines, but starting a fight with one of them looks bad."

I chuckled uncomfortably, "I already apologised."

"Apologies to me aren't going to cut it."

"Not even if I say it with a smile?" I asked dryly with the bat of my eyelashes.

Gritted teeth. "Not even then."

"In that case, I have tried everything I can." I exhaled loudly, as if I truly had tried my very best to resolve this mess, "I'll have my article ready by the end of the evening. Chat to you later-"

"Sit."

I plopped back into the vastly uncomfortable chair, which was tucked into the imposing and messy desk of my superior, Matt Wilde. I had just spent the better half of my morning being chewed out by him for the disaster I had gotten myself into with Freddie Mercury.

"I want you to personally apologise to Freddie."

My jaw slacked open, "You're joking aren't you?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

Matt Wilde was the type of man who never looked like he was joking. A permanent scowl lay on his red face, whether he was happy or not. I think I was on his good side, which means I have never left his office in tears like I have seen the others lads do. However, today may very well be the day, because the man's face was cracking with unconcealed fury.

"No," I shook my head and smoothed out a crease on my grey dress pants, "You don't look like you're joking."

"So you'll apologise to Freddie?"

"The thing is," I cleared my throat and averted my gaze, "I don't really see why I should."

"You don't see why you should?" His voice raised by several decibels.

I bowed my head slightly. I don't necessarily enjoy conflict, and I have dealt with enough of it in the past two days to last me a lifetime. Yes, maybe I did hide behind the magazine to get my digs in as Freddie Mercury said. Just like he hides behind the guise of alcohol and being a rockstar to excuse acting like a pompous twat.

"Freddie pushed me."

"You pissed him off."

I folded my hands on my lap, "I'm really rather delightful so I don't see how I could have."

Matt's meaty hands twitched, as if they were struggling not to strangle me. "Apologise to him, right now. So I can see."

I made a point of looking around me, then past Matt, and finally under the table. "Doesn't seem like a viable request."

"Don't be a smart ass, I have been speaking with Queen's publicist and manager all morning in order to discuss damage control." He tossed a crumpled piece of paper my way, "Ring him."

This is the most bloody ridiculous situation ever. All because Freddie Mercury pitched a fit!

With an exaggerated roll of my eyes, I pretended to dial the phone as Matt took a break from exploding to light a cigarette. When he turned back, I quickly pulled on an unamused expression. I waited for what I deemed an appropriate time in which it would take someone to answer the phone. I leant forward eagerly in my seat when I pretended the line connected.

"Freddie! Hi."

A silent second passed.

"Yes I'm good, I'm good. Listen, I'm so sorry about what happened last night."