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The sky was a crystal blue, painted delicately with white fluffy clouds. The sun, shining through the cotton clouds, making them shimmer, almost like a morning dew in the afternoon sky.
John leaned back in his seat, mouthing to himself, ‘Wow’. He’d been on planes dozens of times before. Hundreds maybe. And yet, being so high up in the heavens always took his breath away.
He looked down in his lap to the bear sitting nicely and picked him up, bringing him over to the window so he could look too.
Beary’s glass eyes reflected the spectacle before them, the stitched on smile on his face seemingly genuine now.
“Isn’t that something?” John whispered to his friend, looking through the window too.
A chuckle made John frown.
“Sorry. It’s bloody adorable,” Brian said from the seat next to him.
John stuck his tongue out at Brian before hugging Beary to him, shutting the window panel closed.
Only a few more hours until they were in South America. He gave his buddy a squeeze.
♚
John wobbled into his hotel room, eyes bleary. It was daytime in Argentina, but he was thoroughly jet lagged.
He tossed his carry-on on to the floor and with Beary tucked under his arm, flung himself onto his bed, ready to take a nap and further ruin his sleeping schedule.
He sank into the fluffy mattress, slumber pulling his eyes shut. He settled the bear besides his face, close enough to his cheek to nuzzle it if he needed to soothe himself. Everything was becoming black and fuzzy around the corners.
“JOHHNY BOY! GET YOUR ARSE OUT HERE! THERE’S MODELS BY THE POOL!” Someone, probably Roger, yelled as he banged on John’s door. John jumped up, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest.
“WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” He screamed back, clutching his chest, fearing he had just had a heart attack.
“DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME? MODELS. BY THE POOL. C’MON!” Roger continued to both yell and pound on John’s door.
While the thought of pretty ladies sunbathing made John a tiny bit curious, he was more tired than frisky. He looked at Beary, who was still laying down on the bed and gave his little head a soft rub. It felt really nice.
John was quiet for a minute before calling out, “It sounds nice but Beary’s real sleepy. You go on without me.”
Sometimes if John didn’t want to do something, he’d blame it on the golden faced bear. At this point in Queen’s friendship, everyone knew what it really meant.
Roger cackled. “Well, you tell him to have a nice nap. His loss though…”
John laughed quietly before curling up around Beary again, getting all nice and snuggly before falling asleep. Only because that’s what Beary wanted to do…
♚
Freddie sang a few notes into the microphone before looking back at a roadie to bring the volume up.
Brian strummed his guitar lazily, playing some familiar chords before shaking his head, going over to an amp to fix something.
Roger laid on the floor by his drum kit, probably hungover and jet lagged. At least he had his sticks in his hand.
And John sat on a speaker, tuning his bass with Beary in between his legs. He strummed a string before cranking the peg to get it tuned perfectly. Beary watched intently as he always did.
Freddie warmed up on the mic, his voice echoing across the empty arena before he looked back to the boys with a smile.
“Excited, lads?” he asked, clearly excited himself to be in a completely new part of the world.
Brian nodded, more interested in getting the red special to sound heavenly. Roger groaned and readjusted his sunglasses. Only John answered.
“Yes,” he said and then added, “But, it’s quite hot here.”
Freddie snorted and made his way over to the youngest. “That’s Latin America for you, dear. How’s the Mister?” he asked, meaning Beary. That was Freddie’s little inside joke that only he found funny. John and Beary were not married.
John held up Beary, wiggling him some to show that he was alright. Perhaps a little bit hot.
Freddie pet the top of his head and smiled. “Brilliant. Beary, you keep John safe, okay?” he told the bear, giving Beary a serious stare before he laughed again. John smiled.
“He’s quite good at that,” John said, pulling Beary closer to himself, fingers rubbing into his fur.
“He sure is. A good husband, if I say so myself.” Freddie cackled and skittered off before John could do anything.
John just shook his head and set Beary back down, continuing to tune his bass.
♚
John never liked this part of the night. Leaving Beary to go out on stage for 2 hours. He loved to play for crowds, he really did. He didn’t like the act of leaving his buddy behind. He found it difficult every time.
With his bass slung around his neck, John stood in front of the bear seated on a table and wrung his hands together nervously. It was almost go time.
He rubbed one of Beary’s ears before hopping from foot to foot. Anxious stims of his. He wished he could take Beary out with him, but he feared mass confusion and laughs like daggers. He preferred to keep Beary safe backstage. It didn’t stop him from wishing through.
John shivered when a hand landed on his shoulder.
“Don’t worry, mate. You know we take good care of him. Give him a good massage too while we’re at it,” Crystal said with a smile, giving John’s shoulder a firm pat.
John smiled weakly and nodded. He knew. The roadies kept an eye on Beary while he was out playing. And they did a damn good job of it too. John would come back sometimes to the bear covered in jewelry, a tiny robe and food around him as if he had been lavished while John was away. That always made him grin.
Still. He didn’t like to have his arms empty.
Roger came jumping by, yelling, “Show time, boys!”
John frowned. Crystal shook his shoulder. “Don’t worry, John,” he said, scoping up the bear to go take him somewhere more secure. John watched as Crystal walked away before he walked over to where the other 3 were.
Worst part of the tour.
♚
There were a million stars out and not a single cloud. John pressed his fingers against the cold glass and watched the purple night sky slowly drift by. He looked down at Beary who was propped up against the window, watching the sky alongside him. John smiled.
“Pretty, hm?” He whispered to his friend, holding one of his paws.
“Are you talking to your bear?” Roger, who sat besides him asked, a sleeping mask over his eyes.
John giggled mischievously and said, “No.”
Roger chuckled, knowing that was a lie. “Well, keep it down, would you?” he asked, more playful than angry.
John swallowed a snicker and held up his finger to his mouth, silently shushing the bear who was obviously the source of all this noise.
They’d be in Brazil in a few hours. He hoped there’d be models by the pool there too. Beary was too busy admiring the sky to hope for anything.