Work Text:
“An American?”
“Yes, John," Roger answers. "But he’s not bad at all, really. He’s been acting for quite a while now.”
“Can he even do my accent?”
“Not even you can do your accent anymore, you old queen.”
“Still the youngest,” John sing-songs.
“Oh, please. You were always the old soul of the group.”
“And you were always the one with the voice of an old man. Who did they find to play you that could match your singing?”
“Matching the voice isn’t a primary concern. He just lip-syncs. It’s getting my look and character right. The bloke playing me is a perfect match.”
“What’s his name?”
“Ben Hardy.”
[clicking noises]
“Are you googling him?”
“You’re damn right, I am. Let’s see Mr. Perfect.” John instantly starts laughing hysterically. “Roger, are you serious?! This child is playing you?!”
“What’s so funny? Of course, he’s going to be young. He plays the younger version of me.”
“You were 36 by the time Live Aid happened! How did you manage to get the youngest blond in all of England who looks like he spits sunshine and runs charity marathons to play your bony, cranky ass? Did you bribe the casting director?”
“No! Don’t be daft.”
“What’s their name?”
“Kirsty.”
“Aha!”
“Oh, just wait until you see who’s playing Brian. That’ll shut you up.”
John gets a message with a photo attached. “I’m confused. I thought you were showing me the actor playing Brian. Why are you sending me a photo of Brian at Live Aid?”
“That is the actor playing Brian.”
“No, no. Clearly, this is a photo of Brian performing with his guitar at Live Aid. I was there. I know what he looked like.”
“Listen, Deacy: That. Is. The. Actor. Not. Brian.”
Roger hears only a long exhale in response. Huh, he really did shut John up.
Before he starts to really worry, John finally asks, “Did Brian’s younger self travel to our time to play himself in the movie?”
“That’s what I’ve been asking him! I mean, we all thought ‘’39’ was just a quirky, high-concept folk song, but what if all that shit about sailing into the future wasn’t rubbish at all? And the actor’s name is Gwilym. I know it’s Welsh, but …”
“It does sound like a stage name Bri would use for himself,” John concedes.
“Exactly! The bastard probably only told Freddie, who used whatever wormhole Doctor Brian May discovered to go to the future to find an unconventionally handsome burgeoning actor to groom as the perfect person to play his fabulous self.”
“Fred wouldn’t have just played himself in the movie too?”
“No, he would love it even more that playing him in a film is the role of a lifetime for an actor. He would have never wanted to rob Rami of the honor of playing the legendary Freddie Mercury. Plus, Freddie wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to flirt with himself … in a way.”
John chuckles. “Then Bohemian Rhapsody truly is the perfect title for the film. I wish it was real life.”
Roger sighs. “But it’s just a beautiful fantasy.”
-end-