⇾ 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 | 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬

No More Parties (J. Deacon)

1969

The party was getting to be too much for y/n. She never liked to go to bars and she never liked to get drunk and she especially never liked to go to parties.

She had come with her best friend, John Deacon. He had dragged her along and told her it would be fun. She was reluctant, and had put up a pretty good fight, but still lost in the end.

After she'd come outside to get some fresh air and witnessed three people vomit in a five-minute span, she decided to go find John. She wanted to leave.

She made her way through the wave of swaying bodies to look for him. She managed to make it to the stairs and climbed up a few of them to get a good look at the room. Her eyes scanned the room and she lost her balance momentarily when a giggling couple scuttled up the stairs behind her and ran straight into her.

"Hey, are you just as shit-faced as me?"

Y/n didn't want to face whoever had just come up behind her, but she also didn't want to be rude, so she did. Behind her was a guy who was obviously drunk out of his mind.

"Pardon?" asked y/n.

"Oh, ye heard me."

"No, I'm completely sober," she muttered. She caught John out of the corner of her left eye. He was talking to another girl, but he had his eyes trained on her.

"Well where's the fucking fun in that?" he asked and thrust the cup he had in his hand towards her. She flinched. "Have a swig."

"No, I'm really okay," she said, trying to slip down the stairs, but he caught her by the arm. Unbelievable.

"Have some," he demanded.

"No, I've really got to go," she said, swallowing back tears.

"Then, I'm going to have to—."

Someone smacked his hand off of her. Y/n felt John's hand clasp around her arms and pull her towards him.

"Hands off her," John snapped. "You hear?"

Before they caught a reply, John turned and took her back outside.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, John," y/n said when they were out of the house and the door closed behind them, breaking down into tears. "You know I don't like parties."

John put his arms around her tentatively, pulling her closer to his chest.

"It's okay," John comforted awkwardly, not really sure what he needed to be doing to help her.

Finally, she pulled back with an echo of a smile. "Can we go home?" she asked desperately.

"Yes," John replied. "I'll get Charlie to drive us back to my place," he added, referring to one of his other friends we'd come with, one of the ones that was also a goody-two-shoes like y/n, but maybe a little bit more daring than y/n.

Y/n sunk to the ground next to one of the porch railings as she waited for John to return with Charlie. Turns out, Charlie was just as eager to leave as she was, so they were back in no time.

John and y/n crawled into the back of Charlie's car and Charlie climbed into the driver's seat. The radio turned down low and the hum of the moving car underneath them made y/n instantly drowsy. After a few moments, she rested her head on John's shoulder and was too tired to noticed how he stiffened up, nervous to have her so close.

He caught Charlie's eyes in the mirror briefly. His friend had a smirk on his face. John loved his best friend in a way best friends don't feel for one another. He could never admit it, though.

♫ ♫ ♫

Deacy is so beautiful I can't even