Faking It • Queen FanFiction

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 4

Oh, how wrong was Flo.

The 7 days passed in the blink of an eye and, just like that, it was moving day. Between training, Bernie had utilised every second to the best she could, cramming all of her earthly possessions into a small number of boxes. Stepping back once everything was packed, she realised how little belongings she actually owned. Most of it was clothes, crockery and bedding. Flo was providing the sofa and dining table.

Heaving the first few boxes up the stairs of the block of flats, to Number 24, Bernie could barely lift them. Not because she was weak, endless hours of police training supported that, but because her core muscles were too twisted with gut-wrenching anxiety that their landlord was not who he seemed at all. He offered little to no help whatsoever in supporting the sisters with their move and refused to show his face at all, which raised Bernie's hackles. She'd had the tendency to have a short fuse all week, stress and the impending sense of weariness dominating her emotions.

However, Brian was being the support both Flo and Bernie so desperately needed. By lifting boxes, holding doors open and providing cups of coffee, they couldn't have moved all of their stuff so efficiently if it wasn't for him. All of the legal housing documents had been signed impeccably early that Tuesday morning, laying on the doormat, greeting the two sisters as soon as they entered the flat. "Well this has got to go," Flo kicked the patchy, threadbare carpet with her shoe and crinkled her nose at it with disgust.

"When's Mr Henson coming over?" Bernie asked, badly disguising the strain in her voice.

"At around 4 o'clock this afternoon, as soon as he finishes work." Flo replied conversationally, prising open some of the boxes and pulling out some decorations for the flat. She went on to say something else, but Bernie didn't catch a word of it. Instead, her stomach somersaulted and she genuinely thought she was about to be sick.

It had to be him. Holden Henson. The manager of her favourite clothes shop, who always started at 7am and knocked off at 4pm, ensuring that he got lengthy breaks in between and scrutinising staff for minor human imperfections. Sickening dread swelled inside of her stomach and shoved the bile up into her throat.

This couldn't be happening.
This couldn't be happening.
This couldn't be happening.

The deal was done, there was no turning back. She was officially under the control of Holden Henson, her manipulative, cold, sombre ex-boyfriend. A burning sensation filled the back of Bernie's throat and her eyes stung with the effort not to wretch. This was a major backstep in her life, a downgrade that she could seriously have done without, just as her life was finally inching forwards.

Brian must have noticed her frozen stance and shellshocked expression before Flo could, because he stood in front of Bernie and tried to reach out to her. "Bernie, what's up?" He shook her shoulders gently, trying to jolt her out of her panicked trance. After the lack of reply, Flo sniffed out the suspicion in the air and bustled over, tending to her sister's internal breakdown.

Flo knew her sister like the back of her own hand, just like Brian did. But one thing that she knew that he didn't, was how familiarised she was with Bernie's expression of negative emotion. Unless it was anger, she had the tendency to stay quietly stunned by herself and then exploding later. "Bernie, talk to us," it was like she was coming round from a coma in hospital, not just feeling frightened about...okay, maybe she had a good reason to be frightened.

Leaning effortlessly on the wooden doorframe of the flat was the figure of a man. A man with spiky hair that stuck up at all angles and a sneering, judgemental face that had an unidentifiable aspect of disgust to it that made you want to avert your eyes upon catching sight of him. The man was none other than Bernie and Flo's new landlord, the man they had all been anxious to meet; and now that they had, their concern (mainly Bernie's) came with a justifiable reason. None other than Bernie's manipulative, cheating, yet somehow misogynistic ex-boyfriend.  None other than Holden Henson himself.

All Bernie felt like doing was crumpling into a ball and sobbing into the shoulders of her beloved sister and best friend. However, if she wanted her lifestyle here to be any easier, she knew that she was well and truly cornered with no option but to comply with whatever Holden said. This was easier said than done, Flo's temptation to step forward and smack him round his self-conceited face almost unbearable.

"Hullo ladies. I'm sure you remember me, welcome to your new home!" There was false enthusiasm in his voice as he pushed himself off the doorframe and stepped into the flat, peering around with evident distaste written all over his face at the pictures and elegant tapestries the new tenants had put up already. Bernie was pretty crafty with a drill and was able to hang stuff up in a heartbeat, as long as Brian was there to keep stuff steady whilst she measured up.

To Bernie's surprise, Flo marched forward immediately so that herself and Holden were more or less nose to nose. "No home of mine has you as its landlord, you scamming piece of filth," she spat at him, rage surging her words out of her mouth. A nasty smirk pulled at Holden's lips and Brian's curled at the sight of how much the new landlord was enjoying being so passive aggressive.

"Now, now, I think we all need to be civil here, we are neighbours after all." That explained the smirk.

Neighbours. They were not only under Holden's control, but they were under his watchful eye, too. It was merely 4:30 in the afternoon, but Bernie's mouth craved for the bitter burn of alcohol to trickle down her throat, taking all of her problems with her, even if it was only for a couple of hours.

Brian, noticing Bernie's terror, placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder and guided her to the newly placed sofas, plonking her down onto one of them. "I'll leave you girls to unpack," Holden said, as if letting them have their peace was the biggest favour in the entire world that he could have done them.

"And bloke," Brian pointed to himself and Bernie could hear the feigned friendliness in his voice.

"Ah, almost didn't notice. Easy mistake, what with all those curls. My bad..." And with that, Holden's snake-like presence slithered out of the flat and the three of them were alone once again. Turning to Flo, Bernie caught her eye contact and both of them gulped dramatically, as if their lives had just turned into more of the reality tv show it already was.

20/9/22