Addictions / Freddie Mercury

Twenty-Two: Plan of Escape Pt. 1

Mia

Sully's been missing for a couple of days. I don't know where he went, but, in reality, I don't care. He's been such an asshole lately, locking me inside my house. The only time I leave is to go to the recording studio, where I'm forced to finish my album by next week. Not even Jackson, who has been on my side this entire time, will take me anywhere.

I'm fucking trapped in my own goddamn house. It's a kidnapping, with a house I designed. Quarantined, you could say, with the same four walls staring at me.

Not only that, but I got a random phone call from John, and of course Roger. So unexpected and yet so humbling. They still care about me, yet, they know nothing on what's going on.

I think they're starting to suspect. Not Roger, who was completely oblivious to the fact that I'm not returning. John, on the other hand, has a tone of growing suspicion. Well, he didn't even get to question me before I hung up the phone after he mentioned me coming back.

I want to go back, I really do, but I can't. If I leave the house I'll be hunted down by bodyguards hired by Mr. Asshole, aka Brown. Who, by the way, has been very suspicious. Sully has been too. Both of them seem off anymore.

I stared at my giant wall of John Lennon, his eyes staring right at me as Legend laid on my feet. Could Sully actually be going behind my back? Or, is he trying to protect me?

Sully has been so pushy. When we first started discussing tour with Queen, he was a humble, charming man. Now, he's evil, a fucking shriveled up worm. He hasn't been nice at all, been sneaking around, and when he is near me, he's yelling. I'm not doing anything right, and the single is shit.

But, according to Roger and John, the single's great. The whole fucking country thinks it's magnificent.

A deep sigh escaped my lips, "I don't know what I'm going to do, John." I said aloud. "I cannot possibly figure anything out."

I heard Legend whine, his deep eyes staring at me with sympathy. My bottom lip poked out as I bent down, rubbing my hands through his thick coat. "I know, Legend, everything is horrible. At least I have you, though."

I patted his head a couple of times before my phone rang. I slipped my feet out from under Legend and answered. "Hello."

The line was dead silent on the other end. I furrowed my eyebrows. "Hello, anyone there?"

Still silent.

"Look, whoever is calling this isn't funny! Quite wasting my time!"

I slammed the phone on the receiver. I rolled my eyes and started to walk away when it rang again.

With a groan, I answered once again. "Hello?!"

There was a long pause once again. I was becoming slightly frustrated.

"Look, whoever is calling, it's not funny! Leave me alone!"

Just as I was about to slam the phone on the receiver again, I heard a loud "wait!"

Finally they answer. "Who's this?"

"It's Roger, I'm sorry, there was company."

"Oh, hello Roger." I smiled. "How are you?"

"I'm great! How about you, love?"

Oh, you know, trapped in my house like I'm in a rat trap. "I've been good! Nothing new since the last time you called."

"Oh, alright. Well, we're in Los Angeles-"

"Roger, who are you talking to?"

"Excuse me," he whispered. "Ah, no one!"