#me when my nana died last march so. cry on your own shoulder. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years

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Freddie Mercury lover of life, singer of songs; Queen x reader

*Author’s note*

Alright guys this is it, I have for you all THE chapter that everyone’s been dreading for my Rock Angel series. This will be the last chapter where Freddie is alive. So get out the comfort snacks and tissues ready cause this chapter WILL. GET. SAD. I was planning on saving this update for later but after some debate, I’ve decided to just post it up now.

Warnings: Death, loss of loved one/icon, mourning, ANGST. This is a sad chapter yall.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queensdivas

@queendeakyy

@platawnic

@geek-and-proud

@labessieisallama

@starswin

@onebigfangirlworld

@klausidiot

@dj-lowkey

@isabella-bby

@5sos-wdw

@bohemiansweede

@naturalswifty89

_____________________________________________________________

The day after Kelly’s birthday, Jack flew back with the rest of the family and took the kids with him while I stayed behind in England to be with the one person who I needed to be with. In fact I even stayed at his place along with Terry and Phoebe.

God he—he looked so frail, so fragile, it’s almost unbelievable that this was the very man just 11 years ago who looked so fit and healthy and who just six years prior wowed the world on stage before 1.5 billion people. But I won’t deny that he still has that same Freddie humor, even when he’s—god I can’t even bother to say it.

It was my turn to take the afternoon shift of watching Freddie before his doctor came in. On the bed with him was Delilah, his faithful cat who hadn’t left his side except when she wanted to be fed or use the litterbox.

I lay there beside Freddie, his faint but raspy breathing was the only thing echoing in the room. My arms were wrapped around him and I heard him softly whisper to me.

“My angel……is that you?”

“Yes Freddie. I’m right beside you.” I was told by Jim that due to the AIDS virus, his vision sometimes goes out, almost making him blind at times.

“My rock angel……my protegee…….go into my drawers and pull out the—manilla folder.” I stroked his head and got up from the bed and did as he told me.

I went over to his drawer that held his large circular mirror and pulled out the only drawer it had and I soon found the folder he was talking about. I went back over to his bedside and I told him.

“I got it Freddie.”

“Open it.” He merely told me. I looked at him slightly confused but I opened it as he kept stroking Delilah’s back and she purred softly.

Inside the folder I found some legal documents inside for copyright approval of some songs. I pulled the papers out and even though I skimmed most of the legal words and actions there were a few song titles that caught my eye. They read as followed:

Somebody to love.

Killer Queen

In the lap of the gods (revisited)

Liar

March of the Black Queen

Ogre Battle

“What is this Freddie? I don’t understand.”

“I talked with Miami, and—I told him he could do with whatever he wants with my music, my legacy, my name. I only told him to never make me boring.” We both softly chuckled. “And darling I know that music will always be covered by someone else. And let’s face it rock and roll is slowly dying with the way pop and hip-hop is growing. I don’t want any of those people to touch one of my songs before you. So we talked it over and legalized right there in black and white are the songs of mine that I want you to cover. And release on your next album.”

I was shocked. These were some of my favorite songs that I’ve told him that I loved hearing live on stage. And the fact he’s gone so far back and chosen the very early Queen songs for me to cover as my own…….I didn’t have the words to say.

“Freddie I—”

“Please say you’ll do it darling. You’re the only one I trust to make a great cover of a Queen song. Promise me you’ll do it.” He reached out and held his hand out for me. I placed his hand against my cheek and leaned against it as his thumb gently stroked my cheek.

“I promise Fred. I promise I’ll make you proud.”

“You already have darling.” I tried to hold in a sniffle and keep my tears at bay but Freddie was smart. “Don’t be so tragic darling.” I choked out a laugh and said to him.

“Can’t blame me. You always knew I was an emotional woman.”

“I’ve seen worse dear.” We both had a soft laugh before Freddie started to cough. Quickly I grabbed his cup of water and held it out but he refused it and continued to close cough as well as tried to breathe normally again. “My sweet rock angel……”

“Yes?”

“Do you—remember the song you sang when we first met you?” I smiled fondly at that memory.

“How could I forget? It’s the song my mum used to sing to me to help me feel better. And now I sing it to my children when they’re unhappy.”

“Will you sing that song for me now? I want to relive that glorious day. The day I heard an angel grace the Earth with her sweet voice. But I want to hear it now that you’ve matured from that little teenage girl you once were.” I smiled and resumed my position once again.

Freddie adjusted himself so that his head rested on my chest right over my heart and I stroked his hair gingerly.

“Just know that this time I don’t have a piano so my voice won’t sound as glamourous.”

“Your voice is glamourous with or without music dear.” He softly exhaled. I took a deep breath in before exhaling out and I softly began to sing ‘Hallelujah’, the very song that I sung the day I first met Queen.

Freddie remained cuddled close to me as I sang to him and continued to stroke his head as his breathing grew softer and softer till he fell into a deep sleep.

I heard footsteps coming up towards the room and soon standing at the doorway was Mary Austin.

“He just fell asleep.” I told her.

“I can take it from here. You can leave now (Y/n).” she told me in almost an urgent matter. Almost like she didn’t even want me there anymore.

I looked down at Freddie and gently kissed the top of his head and as Mary and I walked pass each other, I felt this coldness brush up against me and Mary immediately took my spot holding Freddie in her arms.

I walked down the stairs and saw Jim, Terry, Peter, and dad all downstairs together. Roger must’ve just gotten here and somehow managed to slip pass the paps that were literally camped outside. He came up to me and the two of us immediately embraced each other.

He rubbed my back as I buried my face into his shoulder finally letting the tears slip.

“I’ll go get everyone some tea. (Y/n) would you like some?” Jim said as he stood up.

“She’ll have her usual and I’ll have a coffee if you don’t mind Jim. Bring it to us out on the back deck.” Dad then guided me towards the backyard and the two of us sat down on the wicker couch and looked out to the back garden.

“He’s not going to last much longer.” I said more as a statement than a question. I heard dad take a deep exhale and he said grimly.

“Fraid not love.” His hand rubbed my right shoulder gingerly and comfortingly.

“I can’t believe we’re going to lose him. He was always so strong.”

“Is strong. He’s always strong. He’ll never stop being strong lovie.” He told me as he leaned his head against mine.

After a bit of silence and just sitting there, Jim came out with our tea and coffee and we thanked him for the drinks. I took a sip of my Jasmine tea and that’s when Roger said.

“You know…..my son Rufus saw a picture of you last week and he said ‘nana’.” I smiled softly. “Of course……”

“Roger I know what you’re going to say next but I’ve been meaning to speak my mind about this.” I set my tea down and said as I just stared out into the backyard. “You know that bitch has always hated me. Never once treated me with any respect, nor seen me as anything but a threat to you and her. I’ll be involved with your new son in any way I can but—please for the love of god. Don’t. Mention. Her name. I refuse to have anything to do with her. Even her name is like poison to my tongue. Just like the bitch who raised me after my parents died.”

“Alright. Just—thought I’d break the ice and get your mind off of….well all this. But I respect your decision. Not really the choice of words but…..” I glared at him. “Shutting up now.”

“I don’t even see what you saw in her besides her looks. Dominque at least respected me.” I stood up and walked to the middle of the garden with my teacup in hand. I took a large gulp of it as he said.

“I—I have no excuse.”

“Of course you don’t.”

“And just what is that supposed to mean!?” he snapped.

“You love your beautiful women. You always have. I’ve seen it countless times Rog. I’m just thankful none of your exes turned out to be a crazy ex. I can’t even imagine what would happen if I, my family or even your own family got hurt because of a crazy ex.” He remained silent. I took another sip of my tea. “I don’t want to fight about this anymore. Not with—him listening in on us. He wouldn’t want that. Not now.”

“Agreed. In fact I’m sorry I even brought it up to begin with.”

“As I said before dad. I don’t point the blame on the child. Rufus, he’s a cute kid. Much like his father probably was when he was born. I just have a problem with the mother. But I won’t show the drama before him. And if she has any love and respect for her son, she’ll do the same thing.”

“You know, I’ve never heard you be so honest and blunt like this in a long time.” I felt his hand gently take mine. I sighed out deeply and solemnly.

“I’ve barely slept the past few days. With Kelly’s party and of course taking care of Freddie. Brother mine won’t return any of my calls, Jack calls to tell me that America is already starting to get the news of Freddie’s ‘rumored AIDS reveal’. And now our family’s starting to hound Jack whether or not the rumors are true. I just……I’m drained dad. Emotionally, physically and mentally, and I don’t know how much more I can take.” My voice began to crack as my walls began to crumble down.

I wanted to cry more tears but they refused to come out. Dad held me in a tight but comforting embrace as he rocked me side to side.

“It’s not easy for me either love. For none of us. You’re not the only one whose feeling drained by all this lovie. Brian, John, Fred’s friends, everyone that knows about this is drained. But the only thing we can do now is—be there for Fred in his last hours. To let him know we love him.”

I sniffled and clung onto his jacket so tightly, my knuckles went white. But dad held me even tighter and snug as the two of us just stood there embracing each other in the garden.

*Nov. 24th, 1991. Sunday morning*

Three days later. I remained at Garden Lodge, calling Jack whenever I could telling him how Freddie was getting worse and worse. I was there when Freddie decided to stop taking the medication he needed to slow down the virus and he just decided to take an oral morphine pill.

I was there when Freddie’s lawyer and him made the official written statement, revealing to the world that Freddie did in fact have AIDS and tested positive for HIV for the past six years.

And I was there when……when he……

I was at the phone trying one last chance to see if I could reach Deacy, just so he could at least say one final goodbye. I get that he’d rather wish to remember Freddie as he was and not as he is now but—if he doesn’t take the chance to say goodbye to Freddie now, he’ll regret it for the rest of his life.

The phone kept ringing until the operator told me that the line had been disconnected.

“Damnit Deacy.” I muttered softly before hanging up the phone. I then picked up the phone to ring Brian up when I heard Jim’s panicked voice cry out.

“(Y/N)! (Y/N) GET UP HERE NOW!!!” I dropped the phone and as quick as I could, I took the stairs two at a time not even caring that I tripped several times. I raced towards the bedroom and found Peter and Jim holding Freddie’s limp body.

“(Y/n) quick go get Dr. Atkinson! Hurry!” I nodded and raced back down to see Dr. Atkinson sitting out in the garden reading over some files.

“Dr. Atkinson!” he looked at me and I choked out. “It’s Fred.” He abandoned the paperwork and he and I quickly raced upstairs.

When we got to the room, Peter then began to explain.

“He—he woke up and—he wanted to uhh….go to the toilet. And-and we were lifting him and…..” Dr. Atkinson went up to Freddie’s body and checked his pulse.

He then leaned in close to Freddie’s face. His eyes were shut and his mouth slightly opened. He was as still as a painting, a photograph even. Then his doctor said the two most horrifying, and graving words that would haunt me for the rest of my life.

“He’s gone.”

My whole world crashed. Jim and I immediately embraced each other as we cried. I could hear Peter sniffling and softly weeping and that’s when Dr. Atkinson adjusted Freddie’s corpse so that he was now lying flat and he covered him up with the bedsheets.

After that……Peter rang Roger up (who was just 300 yards away from arriving at the house) to tell him not to bother coming cause Freddie was gone.

At 7:01am, Freddie Mercury was pronounced dead.

I was now driving down the road towards a house that needed to know of what happened instead of hearing about it on the news. When I arrived at the quaint little house, I rushed to the door and knocked on the door as hard as I could.

I didn’t stop knocking till it opened and there stood Veronica. She looked at my disheveled look and without a word embraced me as I wept into her arms. She brought me inside and sat me down in the living room.

As she put a blanket around me, that’s when I saw Deacy come down the stairs and the minute he saw me, his face went stoic and he froze right there on the spot.

“He’s gone brother mine.”

Deacy’s eyes shifted almost not believing what he had just heard. He then went back upstairs and Ronnie went to stand up to follow him but I stopped her. Wordlessly I took the blanket off my shoulders and followed Deacy up the stairs.

From the hallway towards their bedroom, I could hear the sniffled and muffled cries of my brother mine. I peeked in and saw him pacing around before finally collapsing to the floor, his arms clenched tightly against his chest, his face streaming down tears but he bit his lip trying to hold in his screams of grief and agony.

His whimpers sounded like a heartbroken dog that had just lost their parent forever and it broke my heart to see him fall apart like this.

“Aunt (Y/n), what’s going on?” soon enough coming out of their rooms were Robert, Michael, Laura and Joshua.

“Robert, take your brothers and sister downstairs now.” I told Robert urgently.

“What’s wrong with dad is he okay?” asked Joshua.

“I’ll explain everything later kids but now isn’t the time. Just please go downstairs with your mother and don’t come up here unless she says you all can.” Robert being the adult that he was, guided his younger siblings downstairs leaving their father and I alone.

I slowly opened the door up just a little bit more to allow myself in before closing it behind me. There on the ground Deacy still kept crying and holding his screams in. I sat down at the door and waited for him to calm down because I knew going to him right away wouldn’t be the best thing.

After what felt like hours, he finally calmed down and he just sat there broken, empty, and dazed. I slowly crawled towards him and sat down in front of him.

“This is all my fault.” He croaked out.

“There’s—there’s no fault here Deacy. You weren’t the one who gave Fred AIDS. Nor did you know about it for as long as he did.”

“But you were right. I can no longer say my final goodbyes to him. I hide and refused to see him.”

“Because you wished to remember the way he was, instead of the shell that he was starting to become. And I think he knew that deep down. He loved you Deacy, and he always will.” The two of us went silent for awhile before he choked out.

“I can’t believe Freddie’s gone……I feel so alone.” I scooted closer to him and nuzzled myself into his chest and said to him.

“You’re not going to be alone. I promise. I’ll stay here with you and Ronnie if that’s what it takes.”

“Oh (n/n).” I felt his arms wrap around me. “When did you get so maternal?”

“I learned from the four best guys I know. You all have been there for me in my lowest times, now it’s my turn to be there for you three.” I looked up at him, both our eyes gleaming with leftover tears, “You, Bri and Rog…..we’re all gonna get through this. Freddie was important to all of us. We need to be together now more than ever.”

I leaned my forehead against my brother’s. Our noses gently grazing against one another’s as I nuzzled him like a mother lion would her cub or another pride member. He soon followed suit and the two of us embraced each other and stayed in each other’s arms.

*Jack’s POV*

I had gotten the call from Roger at around 3 in the morning. At first I thought it was just him wanting to stir up drama or call to see how Kelly and the boys were doing, but when he bluntly told me that Freddie was gone, my whole world fell apart.

For the rest of the morning I couldn’t sleep. When everyone else in the family woke up I told them everything and we all cried and mourned at the loss of a beautiful and kind-hearted man.

“This—this feels like…….like a bad dream or something.” I said sitting at the kitchen table. My mom standing over me rubbing my shoulders comfortingly. She leaned down and hugged me from behind as she said to me comfortingly.

“I know. I know. But you know—at least Freddie is no longer in anymore pain. You know.”

“We know how much he meant to you Jack. He meant a lot to us too.” My dad said.

“There’ll never be another man nor artist like him. Never.” Jensen said as he sipped his morning coffee.

“We’ll all miss him.” Said Jared. Mom reached over and stroked Jared’s shoulder. I stood up and snapped out.

“It’s just—it’s not fair! If I had been there! Hell if I met (Y/n) earlier than I did maybe I could’ve…..”

“Jack, Jack sweetie, sweetie honey.” Mom came over to me and embraced me tightly. “There was nothing that you could do. There was nothing that any of us could’ve done.” She separated from me and wiped my tears away.

“I know. It’s……it’s so unfair.” I choked out. I walked back towards my seat as I continued to choke out. “He was such a beautiful man. So full of love and life. Now he’s gone…….” I felt Gen and Dani rub their hands on either my shoulders or back trying to comfort me.

“Morning everybody!” Kelly’s voice rang out. We all quickly wiped away our tears and my daughter came up to me and hopped up in my lap.

“Morning baby girl. How’d you sleep?”

“Great. I had a dream that I was playing alongside uncle Freddie on stage. Can I call him and tell him about it?” at her innocent question, the room grew quiet and depressed again.

“Kelly sweetheart I—don’t……” she looked up at me and she knew immediately that something wasn’t right.

“What is it daddy? Why are you so sad?”

“Sweetie this isn’t easy for me to say but umm……a few hours ago your godfather Roger called me. And he told me that—” I trailed off, swallowing my tears and sobs.

“It’s okay kid.” Jensen said to me. I took a deep breath and finally told her.

“Kelly sweetie, your uncle Freddie died this morning back in London.”

“What?” she snapped.

“It’s just…….the virus he had was getting stronger and stronger and—he lost the fight.”

“No. You’re lying! NO HE’S NOT DEAD!!!” she screamed at me as she quickly ran back up the stairs. I turned to my mom and dad and they gestured for me to go upstairs and talk to her.

I took the steps two at a time before finally reaching Kelly’s room. She lay there on her bed, her head buried into her pillows as I heard her cry (which broke my heart immediately).

“Baby girl.”

“Why did uncle Freddie have to die? It��s not fair!” she wept as I stroked her back.

“I know. Death is never fair. But it’s the way of life.”

“I thought mummy was gonna take care of him! Why didn’t she?!”

“Now you listen here Kelly Michelle Kline. Your mother did everything she could to help your uncle. But—there are just somethings that…..cannot be cured. At least not yet. This is something that the world hasn’t seen yet, so we don’t know how to fight against it. But hopefully in the future we can.”

She sat up and sniffled as she wiped her nose with her sleeve. I wrapped my arm around her and said.

“And your uncle Freddie wouldn’t want you to be sad. He wouldn’t want any of us to be sad. Though he is gone, he’ll always be with us in our hearts and our memories.”

“I wish Jackson and Georgie got to know him a little more.”

“Me too sweetie. But we’ll tell them all about him. And how much, even though a short time, how much Fred adored them.”

“Is—is mummy okay?”

“I don’t know. She’s—she’s hurting just like we all are, and most likely what the whole world is feeling right now. Your uncle meant a lot to millions and billions of people worldwide.”

“I’ll miss him.” She stated sadly as she lowered her head.

“Me too sweetheart, me too. Is there—any more questions you have about what’s happened?”

“No. But—can you hold me daddy?”

“Of course love, c’mere.” I held my arm out to her and she crawled into my lap and clung onto me and I embraced her and rocked her softly, doing all that I could to comfort my baby girl.

Soon enough the whole wide world had gotten the news of Freddie’s death and the final confirmation that he had died of AIDS like so many of the gay community and dozens more from either blood transfusions or infected needles from drugs taken in the past.

Reports came in calling Freddie out for his sexual deeds and that this was karma (the bastards). It was unbelievable that there were people out there tearing at Freddie’s name and saying that him getting AIDS was his fault because of his recklessness and wild antics.

Eventually I got a call from (Y/n) and the two of us talked on the phone for hours on end. She told me that she’d be staying with Deacy and Ronnie till Freddie’s funeral in three days, and she’s invited all of us to come to the funeral.

So we all packed our bags and in three days the whole Kline family took a nonstop flight to London. When we arrived the day before the wedding, as we drove on by, there were tributes out on the streets with flowers as far as they eye can see, all for Freddie Mercury. From people of upper, middle or lower class, celebrities or normal people.

Everyone had paid tribute to the greatest showman the world ever known, and the kindest man some had personally came to know.

Then the day of the funeral arrived.

*Nov. 27th, 1991. My POV*

I pressed down my black dress and adjusted my bracelet that Freddie gifted me for my 20th birthday as well as a moon necklace he bought me in Argentina. I looked at myself in the mirror before sighing softly.

“Baby.” I saw Jack’s reflection in the mirror. “Louis is here with the car. Shall I get the kids inside?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there in a moment.” I told him. He nodded and left the master bedroom. I gripped my necklace in my hand and whispered to the heavens.

“Looks like you’ll finally get to meet my parents after all Fred. I only just wish it was when you died at 102.” I took another deep breath and proceeded down the stairs.

I soon noticed that outside in the backyard was Kelly. She was sitting on the swing set all by herself in her little black dress.

“(Y/n)! (Y/n) I can’t find……how long has she been there?” Jack said.

“Can you tell Louis to wait up for just a few more minutes Jack?”

“Sure babe. I’ll be in the car with the boys if you need me.” He kissed my temple and left me alone to stare out at our daughter.

I walked towards her and I tapped my fingernails to the metal swing stand and she looked up at me and I asked her.

“May I join you?” she nodded and I sat down at the swing beside her. The two of us gently swaying like the branches on a gentle windy day. “You practically ran your father ragged little miss.”

“I wanted to be alone.” She said softly.

“I get it. You really miss him don’t you?”

“I know daddy and grandma said that death was a part of life, and that Freddie is with God and Jesus now, but—why couldn’t he stay here with us?”

“Believe me love if I had that kind of power, he’d be standing right here and probably tickling you till you smiled that sunshine smile of yours.” That made her crack a small smile. “But—the type of illness he had, doctors have never seen anything like it before. And a whole lot of people are dying because of it. But hopefully soon, they’ll get enough samples and study it more to the point that we can cure it so that no one dies of AIDS and HIV again.”

She got off the swings and walked a few feet in front of me and she said.

“I really loved uncle Freddie. I was his little nightingale.” I smiled solemnly.

“And I was his Rock Angel.” I looked down at my bracelet and fingered it. “Taught me everything I knew about being a rockstar. Now when he needs me the most I couldn’t even take care of him.” She came up to me and said as she placed her hands on my nylon knees.

“It wasn’t your fault mummy. Like you said there was no medicine to make him feel better. But you were there for him when he needed you.”

“I know sweetie. It……it still hurts though.” I felt her small hand reach up and touch my chin.

“It’s okay to be sad.” I cracked a smile and looked at her. Those were the exact words I told her when they had first arrived and we had our little talk about sharing our feelings about Freddie’s death.

“Now where have I heard that before?” I teased.

“Mummy?”

“Hmm?”

“Is it—okay to cry before we go?” my heart broke as she made the same heartbroken expression I make whenever I’m about to burst into tears.

“Of course baby.” I picked her up and embraced her tightly and the two of us softly cried in each other’s arms.

Kelly and I then got into the car after our emotional release, and at the address where the funeral was taking place, I could already see mourners piling in. Already I could spot Brian and Anita standing side by side, and I even saw Elton John just starting to come in.

“Thank you Louis.” I thanked him.

“Anytime ma’am. I’ll be right here after the service is over.” I got out of the car with Kelly at my hand. Jack then came out and took the boys out of their car seats and held onto them.

We walked towards the church and the first person we came up to was Elton. The moment he saw us, he softly smiled and said.

“The whole Kline family.” I smiled solemnly and greeted Elton with a hug and kiss.

“I just wish it were on happier occasions.” I told him.

“Same here. How are you holding up darling?”

“Numb, empty. But I should be asking you and the guys that. You all have known him longer than I have. Heck I know about your little nicknames for each other. You’ve lost your Melina.”

“Yes, but she wouldn’t want me to be sad. She’s laugh and call me tragic if she caught me bawling like a baby.” We both chuckled softly.

“That sounds like Fred alright.”

“We’ll talk after the service okay?” I nodded and the two of us hugged and kissed each other once again and he nodded to Jack and waved at the kids before entering inside.

We all took our seats in the same row as the Deacon family. Deacy and I sat side by side and soon the church was completely crowded with people. Then by 10o’clock the funeral began.

The chosen few men came in carrying a light brown casket down the aisle and placed it before all of us.

Right next to it was a proud picture of Freddie during the Magic tour wearing the proud yellow jacket and looking radiant and strong, and around the picture was a large bouquet of yellow daffodils and lilies.

His mother, sister, and Mary spoke their eulogies about Freddie’s life and what he meant to them. After Mary spoke for almost 20 minutes, the pastor stood up and he said into the mic.

“And now, as requested by the deceased party, I would like to invite the Rock Angel (Y/n) Kline to come up and sing her song for the departed.”

Yes. I had been told by Kash that Freddie had written to her to let me sing for his funeral. I stood up and walked up the steps and stood before the microphone stand.

“I—I had written this song for another reason. But—now it seems it’ll have to be for this occasion. Freddie Mercury—you always said my voice was of the angels, hopefully they’ll hear me and take you up to paradise.”

I took a few deep breaths to stall my tears. Originally I had this song reserved for Freddie and Jim’s official wedding (and I didn’t care how long I’d have to keep it storage, I was willing to do it) but now it seems it’ll have to be his funeral song. As the piano player began to play the tune, I softly began to sing.

Play video

As I sang the song, memories of first meeting Freddie came flooding back. All the good times we had together back during my internship, to him teaching me how to get over my stage fright, him helping me become the Rock Angel.

Every little memory I had with Freddie came rushing in as I sang with more passion.

*Me*

Wish I could, I could've said goodbye I would've said what I wanted to Maybe even cried for you If I knew it would be the last time I would've broke my heart in two Tryna save a part of you

Don't wanna feel another touch Don't wanna start another fire Don't wanna know another kiss No other name fallin' off my lips Don't wanna give my heart away To another stranger Or let another day begin Won't even let the sunlight in No, I'll never love again I'll never love again, oh, oh, oh, oh

When we first met I never thought that I would fall I never thought that I'd find myself Lying in your arms, mm, mm And I wanna pretend that it's not true Oh, baby, that you're gone 'Cause my world keeps turnin',

And turnin', and turnin' And I'm not movin' on

I don't wanna know this feelin' Unless it's you and me I don't wanna waste a moment, ooh And I don't wanna give somebody else

The better part of me I would rather wait for you, ooh

Don't wanna feel another touch Don't wanna start another fire Don't wanna know another kiss Freddie, you’ll stay on our hearts

Don't wanna give my heart away To another stranger Don't let another day begin Won't let the sunlight in Oh, I'll never love again Love again Oh I’ll Never love again

I'll never love

Again

I won't I won't I swear I can't I wish I could but I just won't I'll never love again I'll never love Again Oooo oo oo oo oo Hmmm

By the end of the song, tears glistened in my eyes but none came down my face because I knew he wouldn’t want that. The whole church applauded and I walked down the steps back to my seat.

As the pastor led a prayer, I felt Jack’s arm wrap around me and he leaned his head against mine while rubbing my arm comfortingly.

A couple hours later, after some more eulogies were spoke from Brian and Roger and other close friends of Freddie, it was time to bury the casket. The men who brought it in, all came back up and resumed their positions and carried it back out and put it back in the car.

Only the close friends and family were allowed at this point to come to the burial of the casket. So it included me and Jack (we had his parents take the kids back to their hotel), Roger, Deacy, Brian and Anita, Jim, Mary, Freddie’s family, Elton, David, Peter, and Miami.

We all stood around as the casket was being lowered down into the Earth. I leaned up against Jack trying to draw in as much strength as I could and soon a couple of men began to bury the casket.

I then knew that it was now real. Freddie Mercury was officially gone from this earth. The Lover of life, and Singer of songs was dead.

Nothing would be the same after today. Lives would be forever changed. And the world just got a bit more darker without the large sunray that was Freddie Mercury.

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essford · 5 years

Text

Together in Fear

On March 30th at approximately 4:21 PM, my father and I were officially checked in to room 149 at Motel 6 in Fife, Washington. Fife is a city of almost 10,000 people on the eastern end of Tacoma, existing as the gateway between King and Pierce Counties. It is the home of Emerald Queen Casino, where my father, Chris Ford, recently purchased tickets to see Blue Oyster Cult, the hard rock band that has gone on to create a profitable, if not ultimately predictable, touring career in the casino circuit over the past two decades. I always wondered what it would be like to wind up in that environment, as in, paying money to see a band with two surviving members play a small collection of hits compacted into an hour and a half set in the back of a crowded casino, where the combined odors of urine, sweat, and booze indebted belches are barely detectable inside the multipurpose showroom, just beyond the rows and rows of slot machines, black jack tables, stuffed shoulder to shoulder with salt of the earth workers, local natives, tourists, the sloshed and slobbering, the dismal and desperate, draining savings, collecting earnings. Everybody burning money together in the name of luck.

This show would mark Chris’s sixth time seeing Blue Oyster Cult, and for him, this was business as usual. BOC was coming to EQC, and it was my mission to join him on this quest. There was no one else I could imagine myself sitting next to as “Don’t Fear The Reaper” was performed with precision to an adoring audience before someone, like surviving members Buck Dharma (age 71, with vocal cords intact) and Eric Bloom, who perhaps feared reapers of their own, so to speak. I couldn’t help but think of young Chris, sitting around at age 16, puffing a joint listening to Agents of Fortune for the first time at my Nana’s house in West Seattle. We had to hit the casino. This was a good time to lose some money very quickly.

Room 149 was furnished with two twin beds that faced a modestly sized LG TV screen, set against the center of the wall. Underneath the screen was a bare desk. Before Chris placed down his bags, as well as his cooler, filled with 1 bottle Crown Royal (with bag intact) and somewhere around 9 (?) Budweiser 12 oz. cans, he picked up the television remote which was placed on a small nightstand between our beds. Less than one minute had passed before he turned on the TV, turning up the volume. I chose the bed closer to the bathroom. Out of some instinct, I pulled back the bedsheets, and noticed three thin, stranded hairs. I am fairly certain that one of them was pubic. For no discernible reason, I then turned on the bathroom light and wondered how many people, upon entering a new motel room, inspect the bathroom out of a similar instinct. It was then I realized I forgot to bring a toothbrush.

“Oh, I love this show,” My father said, sitting on his bed, Budweiser newly cracked and a healthy slug sat in his cup like a monument. He was wearing olive cargo shorts, nondescript sneakers with Nike socks, a Washington State Cougars shirt, and a hat with a camouflage bill (not intact), emblazoned with a Cougar logo. As his eyes began to glaze, I turned my attention to what he was watching. It was a show called Live P.D. The premise of the show was similar to that of Cops, in which camera crews across America follow police officers in the line of duty, dealing with the day in, day out mayhem that one has expected to come across as a citizen of the United States. It was a livestreamed television show, hosted by a cast of three commentators, all with backgrounds in law enforcement. One of the hosts looked a lot like Paul Ryan. After each corresponding clip of real time crime, the camera would cut back to the three men, nonchalantly giving analysis on what had unfolded. Car thieves in Ohio, domestic disputes in Florida, drunk and disorderly folks flinging themselves through the streets of Baton Rouge are caught, not only by the claws and sharpened talons of the law, but on camera, and after having their rights read by stern and foul mouthed officers, they are detained, and just as if they never existed before that moment in time, the scene CUTS to a slow fade, panning to the next adrenaline fueled saga of American Crime..

In 15 minutes, we made 200 dollars disappear. Each slot machine screamed and beeped, strobing bulbs of hot light reaching out from all angles to flood my visual and aural senses. Beckoning me closer, I indulged. The miniature luxury of smoking a cigarette indoors. A soft drink simply known as “Alert” was an available option at the complimentary soda fountain. Swiveling necks in every direction could observe the multiple chins of the aging average American male. Camo garb draped flabby bodies, scores of tricep meat and missing teeth. 50 hour work weeks. Weak knees and pension checks. God blessed every vet.

My father called me frantically from a Wheel of Fortune machine. “It’s almost time for the show!” He burped into his phone, one eye on the slot, one on his shot. I happened to notice one of his chins from where I was currently losing my money.

To my right was a Hispanic man, winning big at game called WILD WOLF. “Amigo, can I use your lighter?” He asked, staring straight ahead.

His body was almost motionless, eyes unblinking behind wire framed glasses in a frosted stasis. A light Marlboro cigarette barely stuck to the dry surface of his bottom lip. He had just won a “Mega Bonus”, and for a moment his hypnotic trance was broken, but quickly returned by the next spin. I could tell he was very pleased with his current earnings, even through his glazed veneer. Fishing for my lighter in between my own failed attempts at WILD WOLF, I couldn’t help but notice this man’s special ritual. The only bodily movements he was seemingly capable of making was when he pressed down on the SPIN button, which activated his next bet, but more hypnotizing was the moments after, as he pointed and drifted across the machine’s screen with his digits, like a painter casting brush to canvas, drifting in small circles with smooth and fluid strokes, until resting with a period like pressure from his index finger on one of the 20 digitized squares that made up the game. I lit his cigarette for him as the scrolling shapes of 7’s and words like SUNOB and EMAG EERF scrolled over his glasses, slot machines themselves, consuming his vision.

I made my way closer to the Cult, and further from the life of the WILD WOLF. I couldn’t help but think about the Reaper and what he meant to the ticketholders I was standing behind and in front of. Who was he, and who really feared him? Did my father ever truly fear the Reaper, after losing his father and friends? Death and loss are made familiar through experience, yet its aura lingers beyond the confines of each individual life, leading to big questions, grander than casino floors, blander than plug in and play rock bands. In this place, everyone is free to live in fear, together. Fear waits beyond the corner, after last call, and after the last drag. After the last hit. Fear is the in between moments. Between pulls from a heartless machine, between paychecks, between distraction and destiny. The fear that we will never accomplish goals held in our hearts. The fear of not following through on every dream left unrealized. We imagine ourselves in our final moments, cursing time wasted, action untaken. Admittedly, I spend too much time pondering on death. I miss my friends who have passed too soon. I miss people I’ve never met. Watching my dad sigh heavily with impatience in the bar line, which was tended by a hardened middle aged woman, sleep deprived and numb from the crying machines steps away, reminded me of what brought us together tonight. This was life.

(REDACTED: Please include any pertinent details readers may find desirable regarding the review portion of the concert)

The next day arriving home, in true 21st century fashion, before setting down my bag or acknowledging my surroundings, I found my laptop and logged onto one of three social media platforms that have succeeded in controlling the minds, moods, and attitudes of our generation. It was around then I learned a former classmate had died the previous night.

Moments such as this, to friends and family alike, anyone with two eyes, aren’t so much moments we experience consistently, but moments absorbed in random blasts, often with explosive impact. A moment of fear in the internet age, bringing individual worlds closer in some small way, every second of the day. A moment of silence, a helping hand, a loving comment, all facing us, but all too far away to try and explain. We are here to remember life itself, which dangles by an ankle, from a cliff called humanity. We can feel it. Somedays, we are engulfed in flames, dragged ashore, blue lips kissing, with two eyes smiling. Shreds of memory flicker, spraying tangerine sparks to the cold concrete of shop class, only shrapnels of memory to bind our souls together. Moments like this, we get used to this.

Together in fear.

We are here

To remember so much, just before the eclipse

Losing oxygen, wasting breath in equal measure

To fear the reaper,

Is to never have had the pleasure,

To face it himself

#206 creativewriting rocknroll blueoystercult newontumblr #shortstory

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