Addictions / Freddie Mercury

Twenty-Eight: Fucked Up Life

Mia

"Oh my god," I muttered to myself.

"Freddie! What a surprise!" Roger exclaimed nervously. "What are you doing here?"

However, Freddie didn't respond. His eyes were pealed on mine as he stood there. I swallowed whatever was in my mouth as I stepped out next to Roger. With my hand still on his forearm, I gave him a small pat.

"I think it's time for you to go, Roger." I said.

Roger nodded his head as I took the chance to look up at him. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

"You know which room I'm in." I responded with a small smile.

Roger flashed me a smile before slipping past Freddie and heading down the hall. I looked back up at Freddie, who turned his head back to face me.

"W-would you like to come in?" I stuttered.

Freddie barely nodded before walking towards the door. As he passed me, the scent of vanilla hit my nose, causing my knees to suddenly become weak. Hold it together, Mia. It's a reunion, not a fucking party.

Checking to see if anyone followed Freddie, I closed the door when no one else was visible in the hallway. I locked it, making sure that if someone did follow Freddie, they would have a harder time getting in.

There were a couple of barks as I entered the living area. Freddie was still in the middle of the room, Legend standing right in front of him with his tongue hanging out and tail waging. Freddie had his hands up to his chest, looking as if he was afraid to reach out and pet my poor boy.

I whistled at Legend. "C'mere handsome."

Legend walked slowly over, making Freddie relax for a moment as I ran my hand along Legend's head. "Do you want anything? Water, soda, liquor?"

"I'm good," Freddie responded bluntly, his eyes not removing from me.

I then pointed at the chairs. "You can sit down, if you'd like."

Freddie nodded slowly, taking a seat in a chair diagonally from the couch where I sat. Legend walked away, laying down in a makeshift bed I had made for him. I brought my knees to my chest as Freddie drummed his hands along his knee.

"Did you cut your hair?" Freddie asked, his voice strained.

I nodded my head. "I did. Do you like it?"

Why did I ask that? Why would he care about what my hair looks like?

"Looks nice," Freddie nodded, his eyes remaining cold and hard.

"Thanks," I whispered, looking down.

The tension that lingered in the room was so thick that a knife couldn't even cut through it. At that moment, I wanted to grab one of the liquor bottles Roger left here the other night and down the whole thing in one sitting. However, I knew that would be a bad idea, since Freddie wants nothing to do with my situation at this point.

I opened my mouth, "I-"

"What are you doing here?" Freddie spat. "Don't you have an album to make so you can go on that prissy tour of yours?"

I shook my head. "I should be there-"

"Then why are you here?" Freddie interjected once again. "Are you here to fuck us up again? Come into our lives like nothing ever happened then disappear after another drug incident? Or, was that just some mistake? You didn't mean it as you came here to kiss our feet once again."

I continued to shake my head. "I came here for help-"

"How much do you need? I have plenty of dirty money I can spare you for more of your drugs." Freddie remarked harshly.