A Man For All Seasons (Queen or Freddie Mercury Fanfic)

How the Other Half Lives: We Must All See to Believe

Sal here!

First, I'd like to give a huge "thank you" to @queenxlovies for the above gift, it's a beautiful edit by a very talented individual indeed. The yin and yang cats have to be my favorite part.❤

Just a quick note before we jump into the festivities: I am very sorry about these updates coming at the pace of continental drift, but with factors such as real-life priorities and, to be honest, recent lack of motivation, I'm doing what I can. Props to everyone who's been patient with me, and continue to read the once-in-a-blue-moon new chapters.

This series is coming up on four years of age next November- which means I have been writing this story since Obama was president, way back when we had Vine instead of TikTok (oh, wait...), and when Star Wars had not yet become an irrevocably ruined franchise. And I know there's a whole bunch of other, more frequently updated stories out there about characters and pairings who deserve much more love and attention than this one. But even with that, so many of you guys continue to come back- which is a beautiful thing. Please don't think I don't notice, because I do.

I want very much to complete this third book before it turns five. That being said, at this rate, I don't know if that will happen, let alone that I will even finish it at all- but know that right now, I'm still trying.

After all, I have promised that much misery, pain, and possibly even death will be bestowed upon a certain original character, and for your viewing pleasures, I'm under an obligation to follow through. ;)

(Oh, and also, please hit the star if you enjoy this chapter, and 50 extra points to you if you get the title reference. XD)

And now, back to our feature presentation...

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"See anything, Roger?" Brian asked from behind his phone screen.

The drummer leaned over the balcony rail, peering down as hard as he could into the slowly dwindling audience. "No trace of him yet," he replied. "John, I mean."

"Are you entirely sure he's even here?"

Roger rolled his eyes. "You do realize that's the fifth time you've asked me that since we arrived, don't you?"

"Sorry, I don't mean to be a pessimist. I just worry we're barking up the wrong tree is all."

"We're not," he mumbled. "I can't help that the back of John's head looks like a lot of heads you see in a church." That is, round, pale, and flecked with thin silver-white hair, he finished to himself. God, these bloody places give me the creeps.

At last, the silly little Christmas pageant thing had ended. Both Brian and Roger had shown up very late, slipping into the auditorium during the latter half of "O Holy Night" as trilled by a sweet-sounding sprite in a nondescript brown toga. The two men, however, had no interest in being punctual, or noticed (this time). They were there to find John- for to find John, meant access to Rick Dubroc's family, if not necessarily Rick himself. But, with a little luck, maybe they would be the final hurdle to jump, before they could finally meet this strange, elusive doppelganger face-to-face, and disperse that cloud of questions fogging up both their clever minds once and for all.

Sliding his phone back out of sight, Brian stood and stretched his long limbs. "Have you tried looking for Wes instead, then? Or the woman?"

"Doing that now, actually; thing is, they're not much more conspicuous. Lots of people have brown and black hair." Roger huffed. "This would be so much easier if someone in their circle wore big hats, or- or had green highlights, or something."