Addictions / Freddie Mercury

Three: Goodbye USA, Hello England

One week later
January 8th, 1977
LaGuardia Airport

"Did you take your pills?"

"Yes, I did take my pills, no need to worry."

Sully gave me a stern look, which made me even more anxious. "What?!"

"Are you sure you took your pills? Last time you said you did and when the plane went-"

"For fucks sake, yes I did!" I snapped. "Can we just get on this plane? I want to sleep for the next six hours."

Sully rolled his eyes. I swear, he rolls his eyes more than a female. "We have to wait for everyone else."

"Goddamn, at this point we should've brought Legend!" I groaned.

"You know we can't bring him." Sully stated sternly.

"And why not? He would be perfectly fine on a plane. He would have me to cuddle with him if something went wrong!" I exclaimed.

"Everything will be fine."

I crossed my arms over my chest. Legend was so sad when I sad goodbye to him this morning. I don't know how I'm going to get through this tour without him. He's my lifeline when I do everything wrong. He also helps me write. Whenever I sing him a lyric, if his tail wags it's good, if it doesn't then it's not a good lyric and I have to change it.

I placed my glasses on my face and opened up my notebook. I had three unfinished songs and one song with one line to it. Basically I have four songs that are going nowhere.

What I'm hoping for is someone from the group who has good writing skills to help me. If they came up with songs like 'Somebody to Love' and Bohemian Rhapsody', then they sure as hell can help me write a song. That's what I believe.

Thirty minutes later, Sully informed me that we were about to take off. I strapped into the seat, still focused on my writing.

What could I write about? I could write about someone who always drags me into parties I don't want to go to. I could write about my dog. I could write about Sully. The only problem is no one would listen to songs about a manager, or a pet, or a party addict.

But what about a drug addict? What if I wrote a song about my drug problem? To tell everyone that I still haven't felt any better?

An inspiration started to flow through my head. Sure, writing a song sometimes doesn't take ten minutes. An hour later, my song was done. We had five more hours until the flight was over.

Checking my surroundings, I noticed Sully had put his hair up into a bun. His glasses rested on the top of his nose as he wrote down on a piece of paper furiously. Maybe something for my career, I wouldn't care. The others who sat on the plane with me were other people I recognized, but didn't know their names.

Only ten minutes went by, and I was starting to get a headache. I rubbed my temples, the affect of this plane ride getting to me.

"Are you alright Mia?"

I looked over. Sully looked concerned. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't look fine. You're pale."

I felt a clog in my throat. "I'm okay! Trust me!"

Sully shook his head. "You took your pills, right?"

I nodded my head. "I promise I did! I wouldn't fucking lie to you again!"

Sully's eyes narrowed. "Don't fucking snap at me."

"Then don't ask me stupid ques-"

That's when I felt the vomit crawl up my throat. I quickly unbuckled myself and ran towards the bathroom. As soon as I hovered over the toilet, I let everything inside of me fall into the bowl. Sully was quick behind me, rubbing my back comfortably.