Kyra took a deep breath as her eyes did not leave Brian. The musician was staring into space, and almost seemed to forget about the world surrounding him. It was as if he was not aware of the air filling his lungs, or the friendly arm encircling his shoulders in an attempt to comfort him. Even though his eyes were burning, he did not blink. The tears kept running down his cheeks, and some of them were dangling from his chin before they dried.
After a long silence, Brian eventually moved. He buried his hand in his curls and glanced at the ceiling.
"I... I booked myself into a clinic last year."
Concern filled the journalist's eyes as Brian spoke. She tried to find the right words to say, but nothing came out of her mouth. Helpless, she gently rested her chin on his shoulder, rubbing his arm. This simple gesture made the musician blush and grin shyly, but too briefly.
"I wanted to recover, you know," he murmured. "I went to Arizona. Nobody knew me there. I lost so many things at once last year that I couldn't bear it. I mean... It was too much for me. I'm not sure that I still can handle it, but I felt so much better when I worked on the album."
"I see what you mean. I'm glad that you made a step forward all by yourself. It shows you're strong. Stronger than you may think."
Brian shrugged and grabbed a tissue he kept under his elbow. He turned to the wall and quickly blew his nose. He sniffed and threw the tissue in the bin next to the table.
He crossed his arms, and a quiet sob took hold of him.
"Nobody can understand how it feels. Except people who were put in clinics. I feel like nobody around me knows what it feels like, y'know? I'm all alone in that shit."
"I understand what you're going through, Mr May. I mean I know what you went through at the clinic" Kyra whispered. "When I was nineteen, I suffered from anxiety and depression. I'm still unable to tell you what triggered all that. The thing is, even if I managed to recover from my depression, my anxiety never left. And my parents sent me to that clinic. It was hell, but I knew I was safe."
Brian stared at her, listening to every word she was saying. He gulped and scratched his chin.
"You... You went to a clinic? You too?"
"Yes. Me too."
Kyra kept rubbing Brian's arm, and took his hand in hers, smiling at him. She waited for him to say something, but he obviously was miles away.
"You've done great, Mr May. You found the little something that managed to take your mind off all those murky thoughts. And the fact that you went to this clinic all by yourself means a lot. It was already a small victory."
"Maybe, but look at me now..."
"Everybody can feel weak at a moment or another. That doesn't mean you didn't win."
Brian looked up and his hazel eyes plunged themselves into hers, and a few wrinkles appeared at their corners as he pondered about what Kyra said. At that very moment, he realised that the cold coat of sadness that had covered him a few moments before was slowly falling. As if Kyra's caring hands were pulling it away from him, ready to throw it away and burn it.
The warmth of her presence was surrounding him, and he wished this feeling would never fade.
She rummaged through her bag and took out a pack of tissues. With a friendly grin, she handed it to him, and he grabbed it, not without thanking her. She pulled away for a moment, giving him some space to blow his nose.

YOU ARE READING
Driven By No One
FanfictionOn 28 September 1992, Brian May releases his first solo album, 'Back to the Light'. At an endless fan meeting that his manager organised, Brian meets Kyra Duke, a journalist working for the independent magazine 'Musirevews', a monthly newspaper full...