Chapter Text
Roger hated this whole soulmate system since he was a kid. ‘One day you will see that the world is colorful and beautiful, just as you’ that’s what his mom used to said when she explained to him that he’s destined to someone. But now he was twenty-three and his soulmate wasn’t around.
He liked to believe he didn’t give a fuck about it.
How could he? His mother had been married for decades with a man that wasn’t her soulmate and she had accepted that, even though he was horrible to her and to her kids. Thanks to God (and the police) his father couldn’t be closer to them anymore. Years before, his mother found her soulmate, after almost forty years of existence, during making groceries.
Silly.
Roger only knew some things about himself because one of his aunts had already found her soulmate and said to him during a family party “You have a beautiful shade of blue eyes, Roger.”
What the hell did that mean? To Roger that meant nothing, because his life was still only shades of gray. Bit by bit he started to say ‘fuck the system’ and live his life on his own way. His soulmate would have a little of trouble finding him, because he wouldn’t let things be easy for them. After all he was on his twenties, all he could think about was the band he had with Brian and Tim and about shagging every pretty person that crossed his sight.
Love didn’t have space on his life right now. Maybe it never would.
The man heard once that wearing sunglasses blocked the effect of the first eye-contact with anyone, and he gave a try, because why not? And he even could put a sight aid on the sunglasses, so he could see better without losing his coolness.
---
“I can’t believe it, Tim!” that was what Roger heard when he came back to his booth.
The band (called Smile) just finished a gig on the pub near Brian’s school, and Tim said he had news for Brian and Roger, and to be fair the Smile drummer innocently thought Tim’d say he found a way to make their demo. They needed to go to some place; free beer after the gig wasn’t a nice reward in the long road.
But by the tone Brian was speaking it wasn’t good news.
“Brian, be reasonable.” Sighed Tim, drinking his beer.
“He’s leaving us, Rog.” Brian barked, revolted.
Roger confused expression changed to an outrageous one. “What the hell, Tim? We’re together in this band in two years!”
“Exactly, Roger.” Tim spoke back, calmly. “Two years playing with you and Brian but not going anywhere.”
“But we will, damnit!”
“Yeah? When?”
Roger blinked, not giving a good answer to thatm but his hot head wouldn’t let Tim notice this. “Soon, you idiot. If you stay, you will see.”
“Sorry, Rog, but I can’t wait. There’s a band that wants me to play, and they already have their own place to record.”
Roger saw Brian open his mouth, signing how jealous he was, and Roger pocked his arm, to wake him up. Brian shook his head, recomposing himself.
“And you’re the main singer and the bass player. You’re half of the band!” commented Brian, whiny.
“I’m really sorry, Brian. I hope you can remain friends besides of this.” Tim scolded Brian’s back, smiling friendly.
“You can also suck my dick!” shouted Roger, making some people next to them look to their booth. But Roger didn’t care, he stormed out, going to the pub’s front door.
He could not believe this! The band was going well...Not as much as he wanted to, but they were alright. Their music was good and with time they’d go somewhere, make bigger concerts, and he could pay his bills without his mom helping him.
Or else he’d have to think on being a biologist.
It was a honourable job, he couldn’t disagree, but it was not him. He was only getting a degree to make his mother proud, but he couldn’t imagine doing other thing than playing his drums and being on a stage, entertaining a crowd. He only felt himself alive when he was doing music, and just the thought of not being in an active band and having to start over was making his stomach growl over.
He was lighting a cigarette when the pub door was opened again and Brian appeared, looking to the street and finding him. The oldest man walked to him, looking as worried as him, but (as Roger thought with himself) Brian liked his degree, and could even work with it, even though he liked to play guitar as well.
“You know we can’t blame Tim for wanting a better choice for himself.” Started Brian.
Roger snorted; of course Brian would be empathic with the bastard. “So you’re saying we aren’t a good choice?”
“They have a studio already to record, Rog! And we barely pay the gas to go to the pubs we play.”
“Whatever.” Roger inhaled the smoke again, letting the anxiety dissipate with the cigarette ashes, and when he exhaled he remembered a thing, and groaned. “Fuck, we need to make auditions for two members. I bet we can’t easily find a bassist that can sing too. Fuck you, Tim.”
Brian laughed softly. “It’ll be good for you to know people. I mean, people you won’t shag and then never see again.”
“Fuck you too, Brian.”
“Next week we can start to look for new members.”
---
Brian was taking a lot of classes this year, so his time to the auditions was tighter than Roger. But, as always, he was more on time than him.
The drummer’s last date was still on his bed when he woke up, and she wanted to repeat what they did last night, Roger accepted the request after seeing her naked body again. After that, he cursed himself for being already ten minutes late to the audition. When he arrived at the auditorium he was forty minutes late. Brian gave him an epic lecture about being responsible ‘or else I will look for a new drummer too’.
To be fair Roger was a really good drummer, and Brian’s best friend since the first year of college, so he couldn’t see the guitar player getting rid of him that easily.
That reminded him when Tim asked him, in the beginning of the band, if Brian was his soulmate. Roger had laughed and replied “We wouldn’t survive a day together” and went back to his drums. Yeah, the two got along well, and even though both of them fancy men (Roger swinging on both ways), they were just good friends.
During a rehearsal Roger’s curiosity grew bigger and he looked directly on Brian’s eyes, the latter getting worried with the intensity of Roger’s glare on him. But Brian was still gray to the drummer, and then, Roger cursed himself for letting himself be affected by the stupid system.
He didn’t have the heart to say a word to Brian. The younger man knew the other believed on the soulmate system, and that he wanted so bad to find the man who’d match for life with him.
The auditions were going okay, but just okay. They couldn’t see the sparkle on the candidates’ voices they wanted to hear. That thing that made their skins shiver and their heart stop during a good song. They got a bit worried when they saw the list getting shorter and shorter.
“Maybe we could hang more posters and wait another week.” Proposed Brian, insecure.
“No, Brian. We can’t stop the gigs this long, because we’ll already use time to warm up the new members, and we didn’t find the bassist yet. So we’ll be this way for at least a month, and I bet if we wait more time everyone in London will forget about us and we won’t find gigs to play, so don’t ask me to wait any longer.”The drummer said panting.
Brian looked to his friend, clearly wanting to laugh at him. “A little over dramatic speech, but you’re right.”
The last day of auditions Roger surprisingly came to the auditorium earlier than Brian. He was thinking of ways to tease him when the door got open and he saw Brian with a big gauze on his forehead, the younger quickly got worried.
“What happened, mate?” asked Roger, walking to Brian, seeing his friend with his head a little down.
“Just a bad fall. Cut the forehead and I’m still a big highlighted, but I’m fine.” He summarised.
“Are you sure you don’t want to let this for tomorrow? They will understand.”
“I’m already here, ain’t I? So just let’s do this.” Brian’s tone was a bit strong, so Roger agreed.
“But just for precaution, look a bit up and try to focus more on your hearing. Any sign that you’re losing your senses we’ll stop and go to the hospital.”
“Owwww, I knew you loved me!”
“Fuck off.” Jerked Roger, looking to the list of candidates. The next name intrigued him, and after some moments clarity got on his head. “I know this mate. Freddie Bulsara, I went to his store a couple of times.”
“Oh yeah? And he sings well?” questioned Brian, looking to the ceiling.
Roger rolled his eyes, hoping the dumb question was still result of the fall. “Of course I don’t know, Brian. I was there shopping. I didn’t ask him to sing.”
“Just checking.”
The door was opened again and the man they were talking walked through the auditorium. Just as the days Roger saw him, Freddie was wearing really nice clothing, enough to impress anyone around him; thinking of it, maybe this was his intention. Freddie showed a smile when he recognized Roger.
“I know you. You were in my shop a couple of weeks ago, right? Brought a nice pair of trousers.” Freddie said.
When the man stopped next to Roger he looked to the other man, which made Roger look at him too. Brian was massaging his own temples, his eyes tightly closed.
“Is he okay, darling?” asked Freddie, worried.
“Just an accident. He’s more than fine for your audition.” Roger affirmed, welcoming the candidate with a smile. “I’m Roger Taylor and he’s Brian May. If you’re ready, the stage is yours, mate.”
Freddie quickly walked to the stage, stopping in front of the other two. Roger could feel Freddie giving furtive worried looks to Brian; maybe he thought that using the worried behavior could soften Roger and Brian’s judgement, but Roger wouldn’t let himself fall on that.
When Roger thumb-ed up Freddie, the latter nodded and started to sing. Just a few words sang, and Roger was already taken. His voice was strong and yet so delicate; he could feel all the feelings Freddie wanted to express over the song, and when he highed up the notes he could sense his smile grew wider on his face.
With the corner of his eye he saw Brian opening his eyes and stop massaging his head, sitting straighter on his chair. He was also liking Freddie.
And by the way Freddie was singing, one of his hands on his chest, his eyes closed, his body relaxed; he was enjoying his singing as well. Like he was born for it. Sometimes a cheeky smile showed on his lips, maybe deeply knowing how amazing he was and how he could amaze everyone with his voice, as he was doing right now.
When he finished the song, he opened his eyes, confident, while Roger and Brian shared a look. And after Brian looked down, getting a pen to get a score to Freddie on his own list; he was that systematic.
“Freddie, we liked your performance.” Roger pointed, Brian agreeing with him with a nod, still looking down. “May I ask what song is that?”
“Is one of my creations. I like to compose.”
“Nice. Brian and I also write our songs too. Brian more than me, I confess.”
“Fuck!” growled Brian.
His hands were on his head again, and by his expression he was in pain. Freddie went out the stage to go next to the pair, Roger already saying they must go to the hospital.
“It’s just a headache, Rog.” Brian tried to calm down his friend.
“You just fell! Maybe you need a surgery or something!” exclaimed the drummer.
“Don’t be so dramatic.”
“I have some painkillers here if he want to.” Offered Freddie, already searching for the medicine on his bag.
“Look to the ceiling, you stupid.” Demanded Roger. “That’s what happens when you look down when you can’t do this.”
Freddie, who apparently was looking for another thing on his bag, handed the painkiller to Roger, that passed to Brian, who took the pill and swallowed, humming gladly with his eyes closed. Freddie looked to the other two again with a little pot in hands.
“That’s a cream my family use to make. Helps with pain, if he wants to.” Said Freddie.
“I doubt Brian’ll believe on it.” Teased Roger. “He’s a science man, only believe in medicine and proof facts.”
Freddie didn’t look bitter with the comment. “Can I try it, Brian?”
The curly-haired guy didn’t respond with words, only nodding, making Roger theatrically gasp in surprise. Freddie smiled and sat in a chair in front of Brian, taking a portion of the cream with his fingertips and passing on Brian’s temples, softly massaging them.
And the first response of Brian was a muffled moan. The cream had a strong scent of mint and cinnamon, but it looked good on the skin, and Freddie’s smile got bigger when Brian said “It’s really good.”
“Old family reciept.” Freddie proudly commented.
“I can’t believe I’m nearby to see Brian May using homemade medicine.” Joked the drummer.
“Fuck off.” Said Brian, but he was smiling. And he opened his eyes to look to his savior (and potential main singer). “Freddie, thank you so –”
And Roger saw an expression (that he saw on other pairs so many times that it’s almost familiar to him, even that he couldn’t relate) appear on the Brian and Freddie’s face. Their irises wided, like if they were looking to the Sun, and instead of blinking or looking away they just wanted to stare more and more.
He felt a burning when he saw Brian and Freddie smiling to each other, with acknowledgement.
“You have beautiful eyes, Freddie.” Fainted Brian.
“So have you, Brian.” Freddie blushed.