Somebody To Love - Maylor/Deacury

11 - Rain Must Fall (Part 1)

Freddie's POV

I felt sleepy as I made my way downstairs, the familiar sound of my bandmates chatting floating over from the kitchen. Funny, I could tell who was in there before I had reached the room just by hearing their voices. 

Brian was talking about his song and what it was written about. Something about some scientific theory and an astronaut - that's all I could gather from the limited explanation I heard. I instantly recognized John's voice when he spoke next, "That's quite interesting."

"Good morning dears," I greeted, barely entering the room before I stopped in my tracks. I locked eyes with Paul and immediately looked away as I felt color come to my face. I hadn't seen him since the previous night when he left my bedroom after our little affair.

"Morning, Freddie," Deaky chirped, handing Brian back the lyrics for his song.

The guitarist chimed in, "Morning." I wandered over to the side of the counter opposite from where they sat, silently praying that I didn't appear jittery as I felt our manager looking my way.

"Well, I should get going," Paul said, standing up as he checked his watch, "I have to meet with John Reid."

Brian asked, "You're going back to London?"

"No, right now he's on the road somewhere with Elton John but I agreed to meet him halfway," Paul explained, "He wants to talk about the timeline and financial aspect of the album."

Brian nodded his understanding. "Tell Elton I say hello," I joked.

"He's not actually going to be-"

"I'm only taking the piss, darling," I teased him for not picking up on my sarcasm, "Off you go!"

"Right. I should be back sometime this evening," our manager grabbed his jacket and keys, "The owner of this place is lending me his car, so the van will be here if anyone needs it."

Once he had left, I hoped my bandmates didn't suspect that anything had happened between Paul and myself. I was in a rather good mood as our night together had been a much needed distraction from my relationship troubles with Mary. I flicked on the tea kettle, rummaging through the cabinets for a teacup and teabag, "So boys, how was last night?"

Brian's POV

"I think you should ask Roger," Deaky smirked, nodding towards the drummer as he came into the room. My heart fluttered when Roger met my eyes, causing me to get shy and look away. Bloody hell Brian, get a grip.

Freddie laughed, "Fuck's sake Rog, what've you done this time?"

"Fuck off," the drummer quipped, his voice thick and raspy as he must have just woken up. God, it was attractive - getting over my feelings for him was going to be harder than I thought. He joined Freddie opposite John and I, "Nothing unusual."

"Then let me guess," the singer teased, setting down his teacup as he leaned against the counter, "You got completely shit-faced and shagged the first girl you saw?"

He didn't react at first, which should have been our first indication that something was wrong, "Not exactly."

"Multiple girls?" Freddie further pushed with sarcasm. I didn't look up, absent-mindedly stirring my coffee while I listened to the conversation.

"No, Freddie. I meant that I didn't have much to drink," Roger clarified, his voice quiet. From the corner of my eye I could see him fidgeting with a bottle opener someone had left out. 

A brief pause in the conversation let a question enter my mind that I already knew the answer to. I knew Roger wasn't in the best mood, but I went against my better judgement, looked up and asked, "There was a girl though, wasn't there?"

No response. The room was silent except for the faint sound of the stove heating the tea kettle.

John spoke up, "You know, we saw you-"

Roger suddenly snapped, "I've had enough of these bloody interrogations!" He slapped the bottle opener onto the counter so hard that even he flinched, storming out of the room. In the doorway he paused, turning back to face us. His voice was quiet and cold, a hint of something I couldn't quite recognize hiding below the surface, "I'll see you lot whenever you decide to join me in the studio." Then he left.

"Roger," Freddie called after him, just as confused as the rest of us. He had never seemed to have a problem with us poking fun at him, and I couldn't help but feel guilty that my question could have been what set him off.

Deaky quickly apologized, "We were only joking!" Still, it was too late. We heard the door slam on his way out.

---

After Roger's small outburst at breakfast, we continued our day in the recording studio as if nothing had happened. Although it was Saturday, we decided we would work this weekend in hopes of completing 'Seaside Rendezvous'. I thought that the sooner I was back to working with them, the better, and they agreed.

The four of us were on our own in the studio, with it being the weekend and Paul out meeting Reid. Freddie sat at the piano recording his bits for the song while Roger, John, and myself worked the technical end from the mixing booth. Roger and I sat watching on either side of Deaky at the desk, as it was apparent that he had more experience in this field than the rest of us. It makes sense - he studied engineering in university.

Freddie finished, and the three of us in the booth listened to what had just been recorded. The singer never failed to impress me with his piano abilities, and this song was no exception. Deaky pushed a button and leaned towards the microphone to speak to Freddie, "I'm hearing some feedback, can you adjust the mic?"

"I can try," Freddie spoke into said mic. He messed around with the knobs, adjusting one too quickly and causing part of the stand to collapse and hit the piano. "Shit!"

Deaky got up from the desk, "I'll go help him," and left Roger and I alone in the booth. It was uncomfortably quiet as we both didn't say a word. Come to think of it, I couldn't remember the last time we had talked one on one, and my nerves got the best of me as I failed to make conversation. I'm guessing Roger was still sulking from our tiff at breakfast, and as much as I wanted to say something to apologize the words never came.

Roger finally broke the ice, "Mind if I smoke?"

I wasn't a smoker myself, and I often complained about the drummer's habit. However, I was so flustered that my answer surprised me, "Go ahead." The silence returned, and after a while I glanced over at my bandmate. He stared blankly at the mixing desk, taking a long drag from his cigarette with a somber look on his face. I forced myself to speak, "Rog, about earlier-"

I stopped mid-sentence when Deaky returned. He found his previous spot, pushing a button to confirm with Freddie, "All set?" Freddie gave a thumbs up and Deaky smiled, adjusting a few dials and flipping a switch. "Seaside Rendezvous, piano, take 7." We sat back and watched Freddie work his magic. 

When he had finished, he lifted his fingers from the keys and waited. Deaky flipped a switch, pushing the button to speak to Freddie, "I think we got it." The bassist looked from Roger to myself and we both nodded.

"Great," Freddie smiled, then left the piano and joined us in the booth. He sat beside me, listening while John played back the recording. When it was finished, Freddie was satisfied, "Your turn, Roger."