Nothing Really Matters

The   journalist   had   noticed   out   of   the   corner   of   her   eye   the   way   he   had   made   the   drinks   in   two   different   fashions   which   she   found   to   be   a   bit   humorous   to   her   .   Grasping   onto   the   glass   and   after   the   clink   and   a   sip   she   just   held   the   glass   and   went   to   go   and   sit   down   on   the   couch   .   Crossing   one   leg   over   the   other   .   A   chuckle   at   his   mention   of   her   accent   .   “   Ah   ,   so   you’ve   noticed   .   “   Her   words   were   more   jovial   and   obvious   .   “   I   didn’t   grow   up   in   London   .   My   father   was   in   a   band   before   I   was   born   and   my   mother   was   a   model   and   they   hooked   up   and   had   me   .   She   lives   in   Los   Angeles   and   well   ,   he   lives   here   but   he   would   fly   over   for   important   events   when   I   was   growing   up   so   I   could   have   a   halfway   decent   childhood   .   Though   I   never   told   my   father   ,   my   mother   would   leave   me   alone   most   of   the   time   so   I   had   to   fend   for   myself   .   I   wouldn’t   start   coming   to   London   until   I   was   around   ten   and   back   and   forth   I   went   .   “   Basically   laying   out   a   piece   of   her   life   ,   taking   another   sip   of   the   drink   and   then   setting   it   down   .   “   It’s   boring   ,   but   I   am   American   I   was   born   there   and   grew   up   there   .   “   It   was   more   or   less   complicated   .   Though   few   she   knew   got   the   full   story   .   Her   dark   eyes   panned   over   to   him   for   a   few   more   minutes   .   “   Oh   ?   Well   ,   now   that’s   a   surprise   I   must   say   …   “   Speaking   of   his   last   statement   made   to   her   .   Mills   could   honestly   say   she’d   never   been   put   in   this   position   before   ,   but   it   had   always   struck   her   curiosity   as   to   how   to   really   go   about   being   one   that   demanded   things   .   “   I   can   honestly   say   ,   I’ve   never   been   in   charge   before   …   “   Admitting   to   him   but   then   a   smirk   crawled   across   her   lips   as   she   looked   him   dead   in   the   eyes   .   “   So   ,   this   is   going   to   be   a   bit   of   fun   then   I   guess   .   “   A   nonchalant   tone   to   her   voice   .   Taking   another   sip   of   the   drink   .   “   You   should   go   ahead   and   take   off   your   clothes   then   .   “  

Without saying any more, he unbuttoned his denim jeans and carefully pulled them down his slim legs, removing each pant cuff until they were discarded alongside the jacket and eventually the shirt would follow suit, his hands settling confidently on his hips with a daring stare. “Alright, now what?”

Bohemian Rhapsody (2018)

https://www.instagram.com/p/BiA8QtNgIKj/

NO. MEANS. NO. 

John & Roger, 1979.

The Band

The drummer explained to a music journalist, exasperated as it seemed every person thought the name was due to the musicians’ flambuoyant appearances and henceforth their sexuality. They weren’t particularly keen on dealing with the strangest questions that every band seemed to have dealt with while on the rise. But, press was press and they had to be on their very best behaviour despite the repetitive interrogations.

As Roger walked out of the elevator, Madeline turned to him and cheekily said, “I know you want me to do you every night, but what about the makeup?” She giggled at her own cleverness. As Roger called for a car, Maddie stuck to his side like an accessory. She stepped up to the cab once it arrived for the pair. 

“–And just so you know, I like mascara. I wasn’t blessed with these long lashes for it to go to waste just because I happen to be blonde,” he gestured flamboyantly–a la Freddie–towards his eyes, which he batted with a laugh on his way into the car behind her. “We’ll see how tonight goes. As long as I can take it off easy so the press don’t catch me looking like some drag queen. I’m not that kind of Queen!”

Madeline got into the cab and buckled herself up. "Dwayne’s Revolution Records, please,” she said to the driver. Maddie leaned back and turned to Roger. “Trust me,” she said, before gesturing to her own face, a la Freddie, “if I can make this look good, I can make anyone look good.” She winked at him, placing her hand on top of his. 

Once inside the cramped leather seating, the drummer draped his arm loosely around her narrow shoulders, while continuing to look out the window at the shining Los Angeles skyline. Her remark caused him to sneak a glance back in her direction from his periphery, letting out a short snicker. “Lovey, you always look good.”

Once he was situated in the cab and draped his arm over her shoulder, Maddie more or less snuggled up to Roger. The driver took them through Los Angeles. Maddie watched the city float past them. “Well, then you should be happy to know you’re in good hands,” Maddie winked at him. 

It was there that he realised his gaze was basically fixated on the woman the entire time, barely saying anything in response. He quickly came to and looked away, clearing his throat and playing the feelings off as though he was simply just exhausted, the hand that had settled onto her shoulder gave her a slight squeeze while he continued to stammer. “Uh–hm, yes, year–er–whatever.” He wasn’t even paying attention to what she had talking about, those strange thoughts had clouded his focus and left him feeling the nearly desperate urge to kiss her although that would be rather confusing, wouldn’t it?

Madeline soon realized while she was admiring her city, Roger seemed to be admiring her. Maddie opened her mouth as if to say something, but found herself silent as her eyes were drawn to his lips. He was stammering something but she didn’t really understand. Was Roger about to kiss her? Was Maddie about to kiss him? She leaned in slightly more when they were interrupted. The driver had parked in front of the record shop. “Dwayne’s Revolution Records,” he said, turning to look at the two. 

He looked on at the facade of the record store from behind caramel-coloured prescription lenses with narrowed eyes, wondering how much the business must have suffered due to its heavy competition with Tower Records across town. It was smaller but he would give it the benefit of the doubt; for Madeline’s sake. “So this is it, then?” His gravely voice rumbled from the back of his throat, the morning still maintaining its hold on his vocal cords, “I suppose it’ll be interesting.”

The store was empty, aside from two gawky teenagers browsing the stacks looking for Zappa records. Tower Records had really done a number on the place. The pair turned to look at the newcomers, quickly looking away and playing it cool when they realized they were in Roger Taylor’s presence.  “Is that who I think it is,” a large man with a cigar in one hand and a BLT sandwich in the other. Maddie smiled, “aw, Dwayne, you know you’ll always be my number one.” She gave him a quick side hug, before asking if he had been saving any special records for her. 

From the moment he followed her into the store, he suddenly felt extremely self-aware based on the strong feeling of numerous eyes settled on his seraphic appearance adorned with the latest fashion trends. It was something he believed to have gotten used to until he was put into a setting where the eyes were few but just enough to still detract from his original purpose in being there. His lips thinned as he compressed them together before making the decision to approach the man that appeared to embody one of the many stereotypes the English had of Americans, finding it only appropriate to shake his hand. “Charming place you’ve got.” he piped up, feeling rather self-aware that his own voice was significantly higher than the scraggly character he was looking up to, not entirely sure how to move forward from that particular point, eventually making the decision to inform Madeline that he’ll be browsing at the newest releases to keep on top of the ever-changing styles of popular music.

b. 26 July 1949

It’s a celebration.

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