A Night At The Opera

Any Way The Wind Blows

John's P.O.V
I lay back, looking up at the ceiling of Freddies bedroom, a pair of warm arms wrapped around my waist, Freddies head nestled in my neck.

I squirmed out of his grip and rolled off the side of the bed, falling onto the floor with a soft thump.

I stood back up, making sure that Freddie was still asleep before sneaking out to the kitchen to get a plate of cheese on toast.

I placed the toast on the grill and sat down on our counter, the door opened and in came Roger, "Hi" Roger said cheerily, sitting down at the table and taking an apple from the fruit bowl.

"Hi" I said awkwardly, I still felt a little woozy from the pills the paramedics had given me, the grill beeped and I took out my toast.

"You can't just keep eating cheese on toast, you need something healthy to eat" Roger said, taking my hand away from my food.

"Well, I'm not really hungry for anything else right now"  I sassed, a little annoyed at Roger trying to play mother.

He looked at me a little hurt "Are you okay?" He asked, his eyebrows raised "You've been acting strange ever since the news article"

He placed his cool hand on my forehead, I nodded, even though I wasn't feeling alright, I didn't know what was wrong with me.

I had been sick and nauseous, I didn't feel like recording or doing anything healthy, I stopped eating my cheese on toast.

I felt a wave of nausea roll over me, I placed a hand on my stomach and another hand over my mouth, "John?" Roger asked.

I scrambled off the stool and towards the sink, "John! Are you okay?" He asked, I doubled over the sink and threw up.

Coughing and spluttering, I gripped the side of the counter for dear life, Roger pulled my hair out of my face, I threw up again and coughed.

"Jesus John" Roger said softly, I coughed and spat into the sink, I turned on the tap and washed away the vomit.

Roger got me a glass of water and helped me drink it, I sat down at the table and Roger sat opposite me.

"Fuck..Why does this keep happening" I said, exhaling shakily, Roger looked at me, concerned.

"Does this keep happening then?" He asked, I nodded and wiped my mouth on a napkin that was on the table.

"Maybe you should go to the hospital" Roger suggested, I nodded and Roger helped me stand up.

"Come on then" he said, helping me towards his car that was parked outside, "Will Freddie worry about me?" I asked.

Roger quickly scribbled down a note on a post it note, sticking it on the kitchen counter and getting in the drivers side of the car.

"Let's go then"  Roger said, pulling out of the yard, we set off down the country road, the sun peaking over the mountain tops.

We arrived at the hospital, I felt sick again, I was a pessimist and I thought the worst, was I seriously ill? These thoughts raced my mind, making me more scared than I already was.

We waited for three hours, I threw up a few more times before the doctor was finally able to see me.

I walked into the room, the doctor shook mine and Rogers hand before helping me sit down on the bed, he sat down at his desk and Roger sat down on a squishy armchair next to me.

"So what seems to be the problem?" The doctor asked, Roger looked at me and I shook my head feverishly, he turned back to the doctor.

"So my friend here passed out a couple months ago and he is on medication but he's being sick every morning" Roger said calmly.