Body Language. Queen

Fresh As A Daisy.

Freddie's P.O.V.

I timidly ventured back into the hotel and scoured the restaurant looking for the others, I finally saw them, huddled in a corner. All looking like how I was feeling.

I walked over and pulled out a chair beside Roger. His head was resting in his hand, his blonde locks sticking up in every direction as he stared into space, clutching an icy glass of water.

Deaky sat across from Roger although I wasn't sure if he knew I had arrived as his head was on the table.

Brian was sat across from me, he was wearing sunglasses, something I didn't see him wearing on the bus but he was also nursing a glass of water.

I was glad I wasn't the only one that felt like utter death, by the looks of things the others did too. Not one of us had said a word, I don't think we needed to, we all knew how the other ones felt.

I caught sight of the giant jug of water that was in the middle of the table and immediately filled up a glass full of the liquid and chugged it down. The coolness soothed my throat but I was also parched from the dehydrating alcohol that had been consumed not so long ago.

It was the only time any of us ever touched water, when we were hung over. It was the only thing any of us could stomach.

I put my empty glass back on the table and slid down my chair, lolling my head back and closing my eyes, the light was hurting them.

I could have stayed like that longer if it wasn't for the ravaging thirst that had now taken me over, after that first glass of water my body was craving more, something that didn't contain alcohol.

I downed another glass full.

"I can tell we're all fresh as a daisy today." I muttered, sarcastically.

"As fresh as a daisy that has been shit on by a cow." Roger groaned, not bothering to break his stare. His voice was a few notes lower than his usual squeaky one...then again, at least he still had a voice.

Deaky finally lifted his head up off the table, his eyes were seriously bloodshot, he was very pale.

My eyes widened as we made eye contact.

"The fuck happened to you?" I whispered unintentionally as my vocal chords were ruined.

"Don't even ask." He croaked, it seemed we had all wrecked our voices but I was still convinced I was coming down with something.

"He got vomit in his eyes." Roger mumbled absently.

John glared evilly at Roger.

"Backsplash..." Deaky shrugged.

"Your head went down the toilet. You were that pissed you couldn't even stay balanced to be sick." Roger slightly smiled.

John swallowed thickly, "Yeah...and?"
He replied, embarrassed.

I cracked into a smile at this little story.

"What about you? You sound like an adolescent whose voice is in the middle of breaking." Deaky shot back.

Now he said it, I did. Cracking from low to high and squeaking. Then not being able to make any noise at all and just having a whisper of a voice.

"Well I did sing...a full show and then...shout all night. Besides...I think I'm coming down with a cold...or something." I kept having to pause whilst speaking, my throat was so tight and painful.

"Well, you did lay on the freezing cold pavement for ages before coming into the hotel." Roger giggled.

"But it was so fucking hot." I whined, smiling.