Faking It • Queen FanFiction

Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 42

"Finally, the highway. No more cocky Londoners that think they own the road-" Roger leaned forward to read the signs ahead, checking he was going in the right direction. His mutterings were cut off by Bernie, who heard the word 'highway' and couldn't stop what she about about to do.

"HOLD ME CLOSER TINY DANCERRERERRRR. COUNT THE HEADLIGHTS ON THE HAAAWEHHHHH!!" She yelled, absolutely butchering the tune. She had absolutely no idea what the outburst was for, but it certainly earned a laugh from Roger, which was just as well as she was feeling rather infantile after belting Elton John.

"If you want to get us to Wales safely, you need to not distract the driver," he tried to say it seriously, but his smile shone in his words and he couldn't not find amusement in Bernie's strange mannerisms.

"I'm sorry, are you insulting Elton John?" Putting a hand to her chest, she took mock-offence.

"No, just the cover act."

"Pull over, drop me off, I can't put up with this," twisting round, she stuck her head out of the window and her hair flew around manically in the wind: the car was going well over sixty miles per hour now. Her entire torso was out of the car window when Roger gripped her elbow and yanked her back in the car, fearing that she'd fall or something like that.

"Bernie, are you high or something? You're all over the shop."

"Me, high? No, I'm not into any of that malarky, thank you very much." Again, she crossed her arms, taking real offence this time that he thought she'd do something so rash as taking drugs. There was a momentary silence in the car. "I'm just excited. I'm gunna join the police force! After all these years of hoping, I'm finally stepping into a life that feels like mine, you know?" Despite her adamancy, Bernie secretly wondered why she was being so overly cheerful all of a sudden and just couldn't keep her emotions under control. One moment she was in the depths of despair and the next she was practically bouncing in her seat.

"...No. I don't think there really was a particular turning point in my life where I went from a nobody to an everything I could have dreamed of." Roger stared dreamily at the road, head cocked in thought.

"You think I'm a nobody?"

"N-no, of-of course not," realising what he'd said, he tried to backtrack, but was cut off once again by Bernie's laughter. "You need to stop doing that, you drive the bloody wind up me, you do. Anyway, yeah, no, I sort of faded into where I am now. There was never a 'congratulations Rog, you got the job', it was always more of a 'you've signed a record deal, now don't fuck it up'. So there was never really a definitive turning point for us, you know? Sometimes I wish there was, but I also wouldn't change where we are now as a band for the world. Like you do, I feel things are finally coming together, but it's a long drawl to get there."

Instead of answering straight away, Bernie processed Roger's monologue a little bit. He'd said some extremely humble stuff, even for him and this was the first proper insight she'd ever gotten of what Queen's rise to fame looked like. Apparently, not as glamorous as she thought it went. "That's rough. I can't imagine what it'd be like to fade into a job. For me there's always been success and failure, not an in-between where things could go badly or they could go right. Funny, that. At least your way makes more money," she added a laugh on the end, aware that the conversation had suddenly got quite serious. You know, talking about their lives and stuff. All very serious indeed.

"Huh, yeah, I wish. We're on a tight schedule, if this album doesn't go well, we could be toast."

"Oh, don't say that, I'm sure this album will be a huge success for you!" She tried to encourage him as there was a touch of worry in his voice. Drumming was all he knew. Well, that and dentistry, but she couldn't mention that in front of him as Brian had told her on the sly.

"I dunno Bernie..."

"Oh shut up. Your pessimism is tiring me out. I'm sure you'll just have this one big song that'll outshine every other song ever written and that will ever be written. I'm sure of it." Sitting back in her seat, she put her elbow up and looked out the window wistfully, hoping for Queen to be successful more than she ever had done before.

"Don't flatter us, we're just a bunch of people who don't know what we're doing."

"Shut up and take the compliment, Taylor. Your compliment-fishing is boring. Get the memo that I think you lot are great, and that's not just because I know what Brian can do with his hands."

"What did you just say?" Roger spluttered and Bernie's eyes widened in mortification, only latching on to what she'd said after she'd said it. Oh, God, that sounded really bad. "Brian...what?!" he gasped in disbelief, clearly thinking he'd misheard her.

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT! I meant his GUITAR and how amazing he is at it. Oh, God," she pressed her hands into her face, covering the shame and the redness that she was sure had risen to her cheeks.

"Too late now, Bernie, damage is done. No way is he not hearing about this one," adjusting his driving position, he laughed breathily and made a mental note to tell Brian about Bernie's accidental comment the moment they saw him again. From her passenger seat, she hit her head on the headrest and groaned in humiliation.

"You dare..."

Half an hour later and they had pulled into a rest stop for food. Bernie's stomach was grumbling loudly and Roger needed a break from driving. They were approximately an hour and a half in, meaning that the others would only have less than an hour left of their journey, approximately. Three hours to go...ish. So they stood outside the car, leaning on the passenger door, making their way through sandwiches and bottles of water. Roger had wolfed his down so he could have a smoke: the strength of the wind generated from the speed of the car obliterated his cigarettes and they didn't stay alight for merely ten seconds, so he made use of the time to be able to finish one.

"All done?" Roger asked, offering his hand out to take her rubbish to the bin for her.

"Oh, thanks Roger."

Back in the car, it was straight to Wales with no more stops unless they absolutely had to.

"So me needing a piss for an hour isn't urgent, but when you pull into a lay-by for a fag, that's absolutely fine?" Bernie was beside herself at the injustice. She just couldn't believe the backhanded selfishness of it. "I have half a mind to throw that in the bloody bushes."

But she wasn't left standing and whinging for long. Instead, she sat and whinged about how unfair she thought it was once they were back in the car, to which Roger just cranked up the volume on the radio and let her have her rant about whatever it was she was angry about.

4/2/23