Where I Was Before You

33. Pump, pump it up

It smells like 90's BO and cheap bathroom air freshener in here, I scrunch up my nose and I walk around the very scarcely populated club. It was only 8:50, so more people would probably arrive within the hour or so. Memories started coming back as I walk around and look at the bar, the dance floor, the stage. Not specifically good or bad memories. Just neutral.

"Two rum and cokes, please darling." I hear Freddie say from somewhere around the bar. well, if I wasn't going to get smashed, he was going to for me. I try to casually but fast-paced walk over to Freddie and grab his shoulder.

"Fred! Your voice! Jesus!" If you didn't remember, you are supposed to be Australian. Every British sounding vowel that comes out of your mouth digs your grave deeper and deeper.

"Oh Mandy, if you hadn't already realised, I was talking in your dialect the whole car ride here, but Katie didn't say anything." It took me a few seconds but I finally grasped what was wrong with that.

"Oh sh*t... Sh*t sh*t sh*t!" I spit out, looking around for Katie, but couldn't see her anywhere the tiny club. Katie only knew Freddie as how everyone else knew Freddie; British, long hair, flamboyant clothing. The Freddie in the car was an entirely different person. The bartender places Freddies two drinks on the table. And Fred picks up one, then stares at me.

"What?" I ask, slightly panicked and annoyed. He gestures toward the glass with his head. "No f*cking way, I'm staying sober tonight."

"Oh c'mon! We're celebrating! When's the next time you're going to go clubbing with an international rockstar?" I sigh, and pick up the drink but don't take a sip yet. Adversity correlates with drinking. I could manage to be sober as long as this night didn't get too much for me. As I continued to look for Katie, I heard footsteps coming up from somewhere around us. Before I could even figure out where they were coming from, I heard a glass being placed on the bench, and someone sitting on the chair next to Freddie.

"Hi, Freddie."

"Hi, darling." Freddie spits out before me and him simultaneously realised what just happened. I turned my head and saw Katie sitting there, drink in hand, smiling an innocent and comforting smile.

"Ugh! You too? Why does everyone think I look like Freddie Mercury!" He groans, in a very convincing and strategic voice.

"Oh come on guys, I know you have everyone else pacified with the voice and hair and clothes, but I know that a normal person doesn't have two completely separate accents." Katie has caught us. She's caught on, sh*t, sh*t sh*t sh*t.

"It was just a joke! The whole 'accent' thing. He teases me, showing me how stupid my voice sounds by pretending to do it." I chuckle, elbowing Freddie in the arm. Sweat discreetly trickling down my forehead.

Katie leans in closer to Freddie, eyes narrow but not threatening.

"Say something." She asks, so calmly, so plain.

"What exactly would you like me to say?" He counter-asks. Leaning away from Katie a bit.

"why do we use it? It's just a- I mean why do we use anything? Uh, it doesn't necessarily mean I study demonology, I just, love the word 'Beelzebub'." My blood ran cold. Katie had her phone out, playing the iconic interview from 1976. I looked at Freddie and saw, for the first time, he had really lost his cool. All colour drained from his face. Katie turned off her phone and placed it in her pocket. Looking toward the bar and sipping her mineral water (you can't expect me to tell you she's a heavy drinker now can you?). Me and Freddie just both stare at her, desperately trying to think of something to say in our defence. I have goosebumps running up and down my arms and my stomach is in knots. I could only think that this was the end, this was it, I had been caught, I was going to jail. I felt like I had murdered someone and they had just found my DNA all over the body.