A Simple Favour...

CHAPTER NINETEEN

*BRIAN'S POV*
An awkward tension had fallen over the room as we all walked in to take our seats for the interview. We sat behind a long, rectangular table, all four of us front and centre instead of the usual, two in front, two in back setup. I liked it. It finally showed that we were all equals when it came to the band. I took my seat second from the end, Deaky to my right, Freddie to my left. The press were in front of us, each one already snapping pictures before we could even fathom what was happening, not caring about angles or facial expressions.
I could almost feel the anger radiating from either side of me as we waited for the first question to be asked. After Miami explained what could go down during the interview, I understood why both John and Fred were a little miffed. It would be hard for them to dodge questions about their lives when the press had photo evidence that they were practically shagging in full view of everyone. I felt sorry for them though. They shouldn't have to explain themselves to the world. They were in love, that's all that should matter.

"Is everybody ready?" The organiser of the interview asked, looking from us to the 20 or so reporters who were sat in front of us. We all nodded, the reporters calling out a chorus of "yes'" in response. The woman nodded herself, handing the interview over to the press to begin.
The questions were all rather basic, as per usual;
"Who wrote blah blah?"
"What was the inspiration behind so-and-so?"
"How long did it take to record the album?"
"What's the favourite to perform live?"
that was until one man stood up, a smirk on his face as began his question.

"So Freddie, concerning your private life-" He started.

"My private life is none of your concern darling." Freddie quipped, cutting him off quickly. "We are here to talk about our album and the tour. My private life, OUR private lives, have nothing to do with that." He snapped.

"You don't wish to discuss the relationship between you and John?" The man quizzed. You could almost see the dollar signs shining behind his eyes, all that he was after was the money for his fucking story. Freddie narrowed his own eyes at the man, and I could feel John grow tense beside me. I quickly placed my hand on the younger man's thigh, squeezing it lightly to show that I was there for him. I could hear his breathing quicken, and feel him shaking under my hand. John never took well to being in the spotlight. He preferred to hang in the background, contributing with lyrics and such, but never wanting to stand out. The fact that his life was now an open conversation was causing him to panic.
I wanted to be there for him, to show him that whatever went down over the last few days was over. I made a stupid mistake, I let my feelings confuse my brain and said things I both shouldn't have said, and also didn't mean. Freddie and I are friends, nothing more than that. We had what we had, and I wouldn't take it back for the world, but it's over. It's been over for years, and I knew that. Seeing him being so vulnerable and upset after what happened with John just hit something in me. I felt like I had to protect him, like he needed me again, like he did all that time ago. My feelings messed with my mind and I fucked up. I knew I didn't love him, I had loved him, but I didn't anymore, just like he didn't love me. I loved Roger, that little blonde was my world, and it killed me almost losing him. I would've only had myself to blame if I did.

"They're best friends." Roger spoke up for Freddie, also narrowing his own eyes at the asshole in front of us. "That's their relationship." The reporter chuckled, shaking his head with a smug smile. "What a twat." The drummer muttered.

"Our relationship is also none of your concern." The singer spoke up, a harsh tone to his voice.

"So you are admitting to a relationship then?" The man questioned, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Can we have another question please?" I piped up, knowing this could go nowhere good. I glanced at John, who's face was now paler than ever as he looked down at his lap. "You okay?" I asked him quietly, as I squeezed his leg again. I watched as his eyes flickered to mine, tears starting to roll down his cheeks as he shook his head. The poor guy looked like he was about to pass out! I never knew his anxiety was this bad before.