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Roger could feel his anxiety rise before they even got in line. Just the thought of having to sit in a confined space as he towers over the rest of the fair made him queasy. But Freddie had pushed him into the queue with a laugh, obviously unaware of Roger’s rising panic. Brian seemed to notice something was off, the way Roger’s wide eyes stared at the floor, and the way his breathing quickened the closer they got to the ferris wheel. John was curious of Roger’s behaviour but thought nothing of it.
Roger’s hands became clammy and he sucked in a shallow breath as they came to the front of the line. This was it. The next carriage was their’s. Roger desperately searched his head for an excuse why he didn’t want to go on, because he couldn’t just tell them he was scared. They would call him pathetic; that he needs to suck it up because it’s a kids ride. He shouldn’t be scared of these things.
“You alright Rog?” Brian asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“Y-yeah I’m fine,” Roger answered, trying to make it as nonchalant as possible. Brian eyed him suspiciously, and he opened his mouth to say something when he was interrupted by the ride manager.
“You can get on now guys.”
Roger tried urgently to swallow his ever-increasing panic as he followed his bandmates onto the ferris wheel. He sat next to Freddie; Brian and John opposite him. He managed to calm his breathing down by the time the ride manager had shut the little gate door, but as soon as the carriage rocked, moving steadily up the wheel, Roger couldn't control his panic.
One minute he was sat, eyes darting around him, the next minute he was hunched over, hands on his head, desperately gasping for air. He could just about hear the murmuring of voices in his trepidation-induced haze, then the cart started swinging even more. His breath caught in his chest and he couldn’t breath. However much he tried to take in a breath, he was left with nothing but empty lungs. He was like a fish on dry land, gasping greedily for some relief, but soon his vision became spotty. He tried again for air, his attempt failing, before his vision went black.
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Brian knew something was wrong. As soon as they sat in the carriage, Roger had immediately became very quiet, and he looked ready to bolt. Brian sat across from him and watched as Roger’s eyes started darting around, as if waiting for impending danger.
It was when Roger hunched over, a strangled whimper leaving his lips, did Brian realise what was happening.
Roger didn’t want to get on because he was scared of heights.
Freddie just looked at him with wide eyes, not really knowing what was happening.
“Fred swap with me,” Brian instructed, but as they got up, the cart swayed even more. Their eyes darted to Roger as his breath disappeared, leaving him wheezing.
Brian immediately sat next to him, giving small reassurances.
“You’re okay Roger just breathe. You need to breathe for me mate.”
Roger promptly halted, his chest still, before his body was falling forward. Brian caught him before he could hit the pole in the middle, uttering a small ‘shit’ before John and Freddie helped him sit Roger up. His lifeless body swayed as they sat him upright, and he limply fell into Brian’s side, who held him up with an arm around his waist.
“I didn’t know he was scared of heights,” Freddie half-whispered, shock from the situation still evident on his face. “Well, I at least didn’t know it was this bad.”
John nodded along with Freddie, his expression blank as he looked at the unconscious Roger beside Brian.
“Neither did I,” Brian replied grimly.
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By the time they were past halfway, Roger started to come back to conciousness. He groaned first, lifting a hand to his chest as it ached with every breath, before blinking his eyes open. The first thing to come into his view was Brian’s hovering face, worry written all over his face. Roger frowned.
“What happened?” he croaked, taking in a deep breath.
“You’re an idiot.”
Roger turned his head to Freddie and narrowed his eyes. “Says you.”
”Now’s not the time for jokes Roger. You just passed out on me,” Brian said, his voice so full of concern that Roger snapped his head back to Brian.
“What?”
“You just had a massive panic attack, and before we could help you, you decided it was a good idea to hold your breath and try and whack your head off a pole.” The humour was sort of lost in Brian’s sentence, the underlying disquiet proving that Brian didn’t like this situation one bit. “Why didn’t you tell us you were afraid of heights?”
”I didn’t want you to think I was stupid. I thought you were going to tell me to get on anyway, so I saw no point in telling you,” Roger mumbled, finding the floor very interesting.
Brian sighed. “Roger, we’d never force you to do anything, and if you had told us that it was more than just a little fear, I’m sure Freddie would’ve found something else for us to do.”
Roger only nodded, the anxiety in his chest still not completely settled.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured.
“It’s okay Rog. Just… tell us next time. Yeah?”
Roger looked up at Brian, then at Freddie and John. “Yeah.”