A/N: Hi. People have requested for more June content, so here y'all go. I'd honestly like to write out every aspect of June and Roger's story, but of course, can I write more? Not really :D, but I can try. There are more parts coming, and they're all in complete disorder. I write them when my inspo comes, and now I want to write this part. Perhaps I'll post them in correct order, I'll try. This one's after all the previous parts, including the drabble (that's the last one before this), and let's pretend that Queen (in the movie) started rehearsing for Live Aid a month before hand, it's fiction, darlings. It's still my birthday now, hehe. Hope you like this. Happy reading!
warnings: None.
disclaimer: in no way do i condone and romanticise insomnia or anger issues/behavior problems. lord knows i suffer enough from them to know that i don't wish them on anyone, nor to make them “cool”.
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Many tears spilled and nights spent thinking how unfair anything can be, June and Roger had somehow accepted the fact that their dear Freddie would pass away soon. They both were much more quiet at home, most times, and when they weren't—it was because of the kids or Roger playing the drums in his music room. He was practicing for Live Aid, perhaps the most incredible music performance there could be. It's due in a week, and Roger's quite stressed. June can feel it, and so she lets him be most of the time, if he doesn't pay attention to her first thing in the morning.
It breaks her to see him like this. Sulking, not talking, only playing the drums or making food for all of them. He's broken, and so is June. She can't believe that Freddie's got an unfair sickness that's affecting his voice. It's just too bad. Seems like there would be no better days ahead of them.
One day June walked in on Roger and their son William playing drums together and almost burst into tears that exact second. It was a pleasant surprise, and she couldn't stop smiling while making dinner.
Currently, June's sitting at home all alone—Roger's out with Brian and Deaky, the kids are at school, so she's got the house to herself. June sits on their living room sofa, knitting a sweater for Roger and watching the telly. It's the middle of summer, but since she's bored and has got time on her hands, she decided to make him a Christmas present earlier than usual. She's already planned gifts for the kids, as well, so they're on their way after Roger's sweater.
What surprises her is a knock at the door. June furrows her eyebrows and looks at the telly, considering it maybe a noise from the program, since she'd zoned out a little. It wasn't, and the knock repeats, only twice as long. She throws down the unfinished sweater and stands up from the sofa. Her bare legs move against their soft carpeted floor as she walks towards the entrance door through the corridor.
June wants a double surprise, so she doesn't look into the door eye to see who it is. She instead locks the door open and swings it wide. June gasps. No other than Freddie Mercury is standing on her porch, he's wearing a leather jacket, light blue pants and a striped shirt. His signature moustache is probably freshly shaved, his hair pushed back with gel, but his face is a little... Strange. A mix between sadness and sickness.
Memories of him at the studio, with and without Paul, flood her mind, including that horrible day when she and Roger had to leave the studio to end the day without a fight. June also immediately remembers about Freddie being sick. Everything she knows about Freddie, and everything she remembers about him, comes back to her.
“F-Freddie.” She says and gulps down any tears that have threatened to come up and join the party. Freddie looks deeply into her eyes, capturing her soft orbs with his confident gaze. But he still looks a little sad.
“June.” He says finally. She can hear that his voice sounds different. Perhaps he's now caught a cold? Freddie shoves his hands into the pockets of his pants just as Rose leans against her door frame. “I know... I know that I'm the last person you'd expect to see.” June listens to him, waiting to explain what he's doing here. “But... I thought I'd visit you.”
June offers Freddie a smile and notices a slump of relief in his posture as Freddie sighs quietly. “Sure, come in.” She says and steps to the side to let him walk in. Freddie—a little hesitantly—steps into the Taylors' home and his lip twitches in a sort of smile at June. Her smile stays. “Would you like tea?” She asks after closing the door and locking it once, just to be safe. Freddie walks through the hallway, looking at all the drawings, photos and paintings hung upon it, glancing into them curiously. June's question takes his attention back to her.
“Y-Yeah, alright.” He stutters a little, and nods. June gives a nod in response and hurries into the kitchen. While she prepares water and cups for their tea, Freddie speaks to her from the hallway. “I don't think I've ever been here, at least not consciously.” He admits and June chuckles. “These are so beautiful.” He points out, and June thinks “he probably means everything that's on the walls.” She's not wrong.
“Well, you were invited on several occasions.” She says to him from the kitchen, after a short while. She's busy making them tea. “You just never showed up.” June admits, bringing the kettle and two cups, as well as the sugar bowl, into the living room, all placed upon a small plastic tray. Freddie reaches out to help her settle the tray on the coffee table. She gives him a nervous glance, but lets him help.
“I'm sorry about that.” Freddie responds. They both sit down on the sofa and June sighs. “I've missed countless birthdays and pregnancies—are the misfits upstairs?”
June shakes her head. “They're at school. William's second year and Lilly's first.” She responds, and looks at Freddie properly. He's shaken by anxiety, she can tell by the way he's sitting and looking at his hands, as well as around the room, from time to time.
“I'm sorry about being an arsehole.” Freddie says, now looking into June's eyes strongly. His mere sincerity and visible regret brings a tear into June's eye. “I've been horrible to you, and the lads. I regret ever picking on you, and I must apologise on Paul's part, as well, since...”
“I saw the absurd interview he gave on the telly.” June says, and they both nod. June sighs quietly after she and Freddie exchange knowing looks. “I guess that's partly the reason why you're here.” She says and Freddie raises his eyebrows slightly, nodding.
“Mary made me see all that was wrong.” He responds. “And that made me regret a lot of things.”
June nods, and after a while of reminiscing and thinking—while Freddie watches her—she speaks. “I accept your apology, Fred.” She says and looks at him. “I knew and I saw that... you were not in your right mind, not in your own mind at all, actually. I'm glad you're out of that state now.”
Freddie nods and reaches out to hold June's hand, and she lets him, her soft skin touching Freddie's rougher fingers. Freddie caresses the top of her hand and sighs out.
“Freddie, I know you're sick.” June says and her voice cracks. Freddie raises his head at her and furrows his eyebrows. “Roger told me, if you're wondering.”
“Is that why you're accepting my apology?” He asks, starting to draw his hand from June's, but she holds on tighter, not about to let him slip away.
“No, Freddie.” She says, offense very visible on her features. “No. I...” June trails off, but realises that Freddie will probably stay with the wrong message in his mind, and draws away from him, turning her side to Freddie, her knees up to her chest. “Never you mind.” She says and sighs, running a hand through her hair.
“Oh, sweetheart, I didn't mean—“
“No, Freddie, I didn't mean it.” June responds. “I explained why I accept your apology, and if you still think that pity is the reason why, then...” She sighs. “I don't know.”
“Sorry, sweetheart.” Freddie says. “Not your fault, I just got a little angry.” He says and offers June an apologetic smile. She looks at him for a moment, but then breaks down her facade and smiles, as well. Freddie notices her eyes look glossy and reaches back to her right hand, and holds it between his own hands. “How are you?”
“Fine, Freddie, just fine.” She says. “Sad, of course, and angry, but William and Lilly help keep me happy. As well as Roger.” She admits and glances at Freddie. “How are you, Freddie? Oh, and, I haven't told anyone about you being sick.” She buts in before Freddie can answer, and he nods.
“Alright, darling.” He says and chuckles. “Well, I'm good, better. If it's possible, I'm enjoying every day even more than before.” Freddie admits and June smiles. “I appreciate more of every day. And the people around me.” He pats June's hand and she smiles. “That's why I came here. You're one of the brightest stars I know.” Freddie winks at her, and June scoffs with the same smile on her face.
“Well, Freddie, you're the brightest star I know.” She responds and Freddie gives her a smile as a 'thank you', even though her statement adds a little ounce to his inner arrogance. “I think the tea's gone cold.” She admits.
“I can warm the kettle.” Freddie offers. June shakes her head, and starts to stand up, but Freddie stops her, getting up with her. “Really, I'll do it.” June sits back down and nods.
“Sure. It's in the kitchen.”
“That far I can think, darling.” Freddie says, walking towards the entrance of the kitchen. June chuckles at her own naivety and watches Freddie walking away. Her smile fades a little and tears threaten to flood her eyes and cheeks. Before they can, though, June takes a deep breath and stands up eventually from the sofa.
“We've got cake!” She announces to Freddie and runs after him through her own house.
a/n: hiii, i'm back with the fifth part. hope you like it :) + the gif quality is horrible, but bear it with me cos it needs to be here. happy reading!
disclaimer: in no way do i condone and romanticise insomnia or anger issues/behavior problems. lord knows i suffer enough from them to know that i don't wish them on anyone, nor to make them “cool”.
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Before shutting the door, Roger had stressed for the 100th time today about June coming with him to the studio. To be honest, she's a little irritated by it, but she knows where he is coming from. Roger tends to keep June out of the sticky business his band has now and then.
“Roger, I'll be fine as long as you shut up and stop worrying!” June says, watching Roger walk around his car to her. He sighs.
“I know, I know, I'm just...” he begins to say, but trails off. “You know what I'm like, especially now. The stress is getting to me, Juney.”
“That's okay, we're working through it.” June says, placing her palm on Roger's cheek. She smiles at him sweetly and kisses the same cheek. “Now let's go before you flee out of fear.”
Roger smiles at his wife and her words, watching her walk towards the entrance of the studio. A few fans are sitting on the ground next to the fence a few meters from where Roger stands. He offers them a smile and a rock sign with his fingers and walks after June into the frontyard of the building. The fans giggle and wave back at him, calling his name or asking for his autograph. He hears a camera clicking.
“Sorry, guys, don't have much time today.” Roger shouts to them right before closing the front door. June is inside already, taking off her jacket.
“It sure is stuffy in here.” She says and Roger scoffs.
“With me here? Always.” He replies with a flirty grin, June gives him a funny look. Similar to the one John gives him day to day. “It'll get hotter when the arguments start.”
“Let's try to keep away from those.” June pats Roger's shoulder. Roger holds her close for a second, kissing her head and then they walk deeper into the studio, hands linked together.
With their eyes, they're both searching for other band members and they find each of them, except for Freddie. Brian's wife is there, too, and June greets her with a hug.
“Hi, June.” Says Brian from Chrissie's left. June smiles at him. “Quite a pause since we last saw you.”
“Brian. Yes, I've been busy, and as I hear from my husband, you have been busy, too.”
“Working their arses off.” Chrissie states and they all laugh.
“Hi, John!” June waves at the bassist when she spots him with his guitar in the recording room. John spots her, too, and waves back with the signature lazy smile on his face.
“Hello, hello, lads and... wives! Good day, June.” Says the band's record producer when he walks into the small room. June gives him a polite smile and then makes way for him to sit down at the sound system. “Crowded here, is it? Would be better if you'd move to the other room and... start tuning your instruments?”
“Oh, right!” Says Roger and drags June out of the room, followed by Brian and Chrissie. “Though we are one missing, I suppose we could tune up.” He admits with a heavy sigh and grumbles of agreement come from Brian and John. Roger sits June down on the sofa and points a finger at her. “Now you stay here. And don't move.”
“What are you gonna do, Rog, paint her?” Brian asks, walking over to his guitar while Chrissie sits next to June.
“Not exactly, no.” Roger replies and walks up to his beloved drums. “She's gonna paint or draw us. Aren't you, dear?” He asks just as he's reaching down for a wire behind his drums.
“We'll see, we'll see.” June chuckles. “Roger thought this would be the best place for me to watch you from, the—what was it?—“perfect composition”?
“Yeah, yeah.” Roger admits and chuckles lowly to himself while others snicker at him. “Make fun of me all you want.”
“We're not!” John says.
“We're admiring your vocabulary in art.” Brian defends the others, and they all laugh again.
“Were you talking about art or were you talking about me?” A deep voice interrupts the laughter and June looks over to the door. None other than Freddie Mercury has arrived at the studio with a beer in hand and Paul Prenter by his side. “Oh, June. Always lovely to see your face here. Another evidence on Roger having one girl.”
June flashes him a quick smile and turns to her bag to get her paper and pencils out. She doesn't react to his comments about Roger cheating anymore, because she knows he doesn't mean them, he's just drunk and June's got nothing to worry about.
Brian, John and Roger all nod at him as a greeting. Well, from Roger, it's barely a nod, just an angry look. June can see how easily Roger gets agitated when he sees Freddie. He can hardly restrain himself from lounging at Freddie because of the comment he made. Roger decides against violence because he can control himself, and he needs to resist his anger, especially in front of others.
“You're late.” He says. “And is that the second or the 100th time you are?”
“I think the number has reached, perhaps, two hundred.” Adds Brian. John has a sad look on his face as he looks at his lap. June knows he hates arguments, he just wants to make music with his friends.
“I'm here now. So what is it? Are we carrying on with “The Dust” today?” Freddie pushes his sunglasses further up his nose. Paul lights his cigarette and he takes a long drag.
“Yes, we need some improvement on your vocals in the chorus and I need to play the melody.” Brian says and scratches his head. “I suggest we just record the whole song a couple of times and see which version we like best.”
“I like the first one we recorded.” John speaks up.
“I do, too.” Roger says and finally sits down on his drum stool.
“Sure you do.” Freddie replies. “But it's the first version, the rawest of them all. We'll need to add something more to it.”
“To make it sound more disco, right?” Roger mocks him. Freddie shoots him a look and for a second or two, they have an anger-stare contest.
“If I'll want to, we'll make it the most disco song of the 1980s.” He says sternly.
“Can we please get through today without any arguments?” Brian asks, making a praying gesture with his hands and sighing. “I like the first version, too, but let's just try out different things.”
Everyone nods, but Roger is still watching Freddie. “I'd like everyone who's not Queen take a seat in the room with me and let's start recording.” Their producer speaks up.
“Can Juney stay here? She'll be quiet.” Roger shouts.
“You heard me - everyone who's not Queen, please move to this room.” He repeats. Roger growls and rolls his eyes at the producer.
“The only good thing about today and it's taken away from me.” Roger mumbles. June takes her bag and walks up to his drums. She leans over all the parts and plates and kisses Roger.
“I'll still be able to see you, Rog, don't you worry.” She whispers. “Only three meters further away, it's not that long.”
“But I want you here.” Roger pouts at her and June laughs.
“Don't get scared, little boy.” She teases him as she's walking to the other room. Roger's lips curl into a loving smile and he chuckles.
“Okay, guys, you ready?” The producer asks. June sits down next to Chrissie again, and much to her dismay, Prenter sits down on her other side. She tries to sigh without a sound. She can smell the cigarettes and alcohol on him, and it's not a pleasant mix. Roger has it, sometimes, too, but it's different when it's your husband.
June watches Roger as he's drumming and starts sketching him in her notebook. She starts with his shoulders, then creates his head and the easiest part to draw is his hair. It's just a mess of blond locks, but her favourite thing to mess up even more. She often wonders how it's a miracle that he was born with such gorgeous hair.
“Is that Taylor you're drawing there?” Paul Prenter asks her with a devilish smirk playing on his features.
“It is.” June replies without any further information. She doesn't want to talk to him, because she simply doesn't like Prenter.
“Quite the one, isn't he?” Paul asks. June knows that something's under his sleeve. “How do you keep him in place? I mean, it must be hard, with the reputation he's got in relationships.”
June sighs, but doesn't reply. Now she really understands how Roger feels every day, because Prenter's making her angry. A greedy little snake is what Prenter is. June can't deal with people like him.
“Roger told us you have many drawings of him.” Chrissie says, feeling June's irritation and wanting to keep everything calm between them three.
“He did?” June's eyebrows raise in confusion, as she knows that Roger knows he's not allowed in her studio. She erases his eyes in her sketch, because they were too small.
“Oh, was he not supposed to?” Chrissie falters.
“No, no, it's fine.” June chuckles, making Chrissie relieved. “I just don't allow him to enter my studio without me. But you know, can I control him anymore? Boys will be boys.”
“Yeah, I guess you can't. No man can be tamed without taking our clothes off.”
“You're right there, love.” June agrees and the women both laugh. “Is Brian like that, too?”
“Well, I suppose he is a little more peaceful than Roger, from what I see in the studio, but sometimes it is hard to get him in a frame.” Chrissie admits.
“I know exactly what you mean.” June says. “Sometimes I think Roger's charged with electricity because of the energy he's got. He wants to do everything at once, and he can't be stopped.”
Chrissie laughs. “Maybe he's hyperactive, have you thought of that?”
“Nah, it couldn't be. He's just himself.” June admits and they both laugh again.
After an hour or three of recording, June has three drawings of Roger, four of Chrissie and many more of the band playing in the studio. Every band drawing includes the curly hair of the producer, like a lovely accent on it, making it more lovely and familiar, perhaps even domestic.
“Paul, I don't mean to be impolite, but you've been everything but polite today.” June is finally on her breaking point, driven by Prenter. The band are listening to the recordings on big headphones while June and Chrissie are waiting for them to finish and Paul's making the waiting even longer and unbearable. “Would you mind sodding off? I don't want you to ruin my relationship with my husband—which, mind you, you could never have the power to do—just because you're not content with yourself!”
Roger listens to Brian's today-recorded guitar solo and then hears the anxious voice of his wife through the thick headphones. He slides them down to hang around his own neck and turns around to see her saying something to Paul.
Paul laughs in a dark manner at her, a horrible grin plastered over his face. Before he can answer to June's words, Roger walks the two steps over to them and eyes Prenter viciously.
“Why is she mad at you?” He asks, his hands glued to his hips, elbows back. Paul struggles to answer, falling over words and Roger repeats his question, but in a deeper voice and slower. “Why is she mad at you, Prenter?”
“Perhaps it's not me she should be mad at.” Paul replies lowly, looking up at Roger through his forehead.
“And what does that mean?” Roger's eyes narrow down. June suddenly stands up, realising what could be the result of the current situation. She puts her drawing things into her bag and slides her arm around Roger's elbow.
“Roger, let's go.” She nudges him, begging with her eyes and looking at him, but Roger's eyes stay on Prenter. “Don't mind him.”
“No, I wanna hear what he has to say! Obviously, you wouldn't be so fussed if nothing had happened, right?!” Roger almost freaks out. “Tell me why she's mad at you!”
“Roger, perhaps this is not the time.” Freddie interrupts from behind them.
“Oh, surely, when your little pet's in trouble, you suddenly need all of us focused on the recordings, not him! And at the same time, he has annoyed my wife for whatever reason, and that's meaningless to you, right?” Roger whips around to face the lead singer, disconnecting from June suddenly. Chrissie reaches out her hand to hold June's.
“Are you sure she's your wife? Or just a waste of time and money?” Paul chirps sarcastically, and his words make June hurt inside. She won't admit it outside, but she is hurt by those words. She knows that they're not true, but how could he ever say something like that to Roger? Her grip on Chrissie's hand loosens and she lets go completely, her hands entangling together in stress.
“What did you say?” Roger yells and when Paul laughs again, he doesn't hesitate to pin the tosser to the wall by his neck. “WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!”
Paul's struggling for air. Brian pushes the wives further back into the room and moves to get Roger off Paul. He and John both hold raging Roger back as Freddie approaches Paul. Chrissie catches the headphones falling to the ground.
“Yeah, right! Go and calm him down, won't you? Protect him and stand for him when he just insulted me and the love of my life!” Roger shouts animalistically at Freddie. His words make June's heart flutter - even though he was just strangling a man, he was fighting for the right thing. Violence is never the right option, but Roger can't control himself.
Freddie only gives him a look in response, and huffs quietly. June sees him breathing calmly, while Roger, on the other hand, is a raging horse, his chest heaving up and down, breaking out of his half-buttoned shirt.
June walks over to her husband and begins freeing him from the grip of his bandmates. “June, don't—” Brian starts to say, but June looks at him sternly.
“There's nothing to worry about as long as we're not here, or with those two.” She tells Brian while swatting his hands off Roger. “Otherwise—never thought I'd say this, but—I'd join Roger in a fight.”
“You?” Freddie laughs, lighting a cigarette. “Fighting? Surely we can find a stronger person in the homes for old people.”
June pays no mind to him and takes Roger's hand in hers. Before leaving the studio, she bids goodbye to the Mays, John and the producer. Mercury and Prenter make her heart beat so fast in anger her ears will tear apart from the loudness.
Roger's quite astounded by June's behavior, but can't fathom it completely, since he's calming down from his anger fit. The walk to the car is silent, and the first words spoken are in the car.
“I can't believe that.” June says quietly, staring out the window. Roger was about to start the car, but stops. He wants to listen to his wife. “I can't believe them, and I can't...” she enhales and exhales, “I can't believe it's what you have to deal with every day that you spend at the studio.”
Roger sighs out, leaning against the door of his side. June turns her head to him. Their eyes connect and a look of knowing is strong between them. “It is quite out-of-this-world.” Roger admits. “Sorry if I scared you, I just—GOD!—I can't deal with that stupid snake!”
“Is he like this all the time?” June asks. Roger moves his head from side to side, shrugging.
“He and Freddie like to make comments about me cheating, make fun of me. Let them do it, for all I care, but I hate it when they involve you.” He almost growls. “You're my wife, I mean, how could they question me or you or our relationship?!” He's still astounded. “What did he say to you?”
June sighs. “Just stupid questions about the same thing.” She admits. “I couldn't even draw properly, the tosspot took all my attention. There won't be any good drawings from today.”
“Don't say that, all of them are beautiful.” Roger says and finally starts the car. “Don't let Prenter or Fred get to your head. Prenter's plain greedy and Fred...”
“Yeah, I know.” June says. “The only reason they're making fun of you and make you feel bad is that they themselves don't feel good in some or many aspects of their life.” She sighs and her hand slithers over Roger's on the speed crank. He looks at her, their faces closer than before. “I hope they don't get into your head, Roger.” June says quietly and hopefully. “I know you and I also know your past. I trust you, too. And don't you ever forget that, don't doubt yourself.”
“I try.” Roger says and lifts their intertwined hands up to his lips and kisses June's knuckles. He then leans over and kisses June's lips. “You're the most important thing in my life.” He admits in a whisper, pulling back just a little so he can look at June. “I won't do anything to hurt you or make you leave me.”
June smiles at him, the smile so big Roger thinks it reaches her ears. He smiles, too. “Let's go home.”
Forgot to post this last night since I passed out but -- I started to feel a bit better after some time of watching some things and talking to a few people. That really did seem to help. My main issue is still being worked out, but I hope I can find a solution on what to do with my feelings in due time.
Ugh, so confused on what to do. This won't get off my mind until I find a solution...but what kind of solution is there to a problem like this? Ehh, feelings and emotions really get to me sometimes. It's not like it's annoying me like it's bad, I just wish i knew what to do. -Sigh-
