19.)I Was Born to Love You

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Freddie's POV:

It's been a little over a month now since I'd last seen Cherie. My heart ached every time I thought of her. I was a broken mess. Miserable and too much for anyone to handle anymore.

The day after my party, I didn't even bother to get out of bed. I knew there was another celebration planned the next day, but I didn't care. At this point, I didn't care about anything at all. That is, except seeing Cherie...and OUR baby.

The guys had tried to coax me out of bed, but they knew what had happened. Veronica had explained it all to them when they got back that night. I heard it all through my bedroom door, but didn't care enough to tell them to just shut up! They were all drunk and whispering so loud, they might as well have not tried whispering at all.

When I finally got out of bed to get something to drown my feelings, they were all waiting for me in the kitchen. I hadn't the energy to look presentable or to even mumble a good morning greeting. But I couldn't keep this in- so I told them that Cherie was pregnant and that it was my baby, too.

"Oh, Freddie that's spectacular!," Veronica exclaimed, while The guys each said a congratulations.

"Yes..I suppose it would be if Cherie were here and didn't think of me as a complete ass...,"

They all gave me looks of sympathy which of course I hated. I went back to bed with a bottle of liquor and spent the rest of my time in Vegas alone in my hotel room.

I did try calling Cherie again to properly explain that Paul is a fucking prick! She never answered though. And after a couple of days a message popped up when I called saying the number was now disconnected. Reluctantly, I packed my bags and flew back home with the rest of Queen.

We were supposed to be recording a new album and in my drunken stupor, I did come up with a few new songs. I'd play the piano every sleepless night to busy my mind. Most of the time, it ended in me crying or passing out cold. I rarely made it in to the studio these day and the guys were really starting to get bothered by it. I don't blame them. They were coming here to my home to meet me today so I slipped into my robe and waited patiently on the couch sipping vodka out of a tea cup. The doorbell chimes and I slowly got up to answer it.

"Jesus, Fred...what..have you not been sleeping?," Johns wide eyes greeted me and I moved to let him in.

"I do alright," I responded.

"When's the last time you've had anything in you but liquor? And..when the last time you showered, mate" Rogers high pitched voice irritated me as he strolled in with Brian following behind him.

"Are we here to tell me how disgraceful I am or are we here to talk about the record?," I snapped.

We all sat around discussing our big plans and talking through new song ideas and lyrics.

After pouring myself another drink I strolled over towards my piano. I sat down nervous to present my new song but ah well here goes...

My fingers glided across the keys playing the haunting melody and I started to sing out..

"Love of my life...
You've hurt me...,"

I was glad when it was over I didn't want to face the guys because I was silently crying. I mean of course they loved it. I'm a musical prostitute, after all.

When they all left, I thought over what they said when they'd first seen me. I went to the bathroom to take a long awaited shower. As I glanced in the mirror I seen the horror show that frightened them. My eyes had a red ring along the brim of my lashes and I had deep set dark circles under my eyes. I hadn't shaved in forever so I now had a good beard and mustache shadowing my face. My hair was a tangled mess sticking out here and there and everywhere.

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