#bohap

 The post-ceremony interview was meant only for the winners. But Rami had let the cast stand offside of the little stage. At least some of them. Ben was in awe of all Bohemian Rhapsody had accomplished. With all his fears, he had done his best. And now he was so proud of the film and that the hard work put into it was being recognized by the world. Finally.

He smiled to himself, listening to Rami’s speech. Joe and Gwilym were over his shoulder, filming their best friend with their cellphones. This was a moment of a lifetime. And Emmy was here to share it with them.

Somehow, Ben had managed to talk her out of her hotel room and into the limousine. He didn’t once let go of her hand when they stepped onto the red carpet, and she didn’t once pull away. It was a warm feeling that washed over him whenever she was near. And even when she seemed to get nervous, pressing beneath his arm as the press shouted, asking for her name and wondering why she was here, she stood with her chin up. Smiled for the photos.

It was almost like a family photoshoot for them all. The entire cast stood in front of the white flashing lights, arms over shoulders. Not a single soul was going to be forgotten about. And when Brian called Emmy over for a photo with her and Roger, Roger gave Ben a firm handshake. Told him he did a good job. And to look out for his niece.

There was trust in those words, and Ben took them to heart. And now he had a hand on her hip, her back against his chest as she leaned against him. Blissfully at peace with the unpredictability of the world. Because even though it was as fragile as if it were made of sugar, she still was reaching out to taste it.

Now, because of her, so was he.

“I don’t know how this person thought a young man who felt so profoundly alienated with social anxiety could ever play Freddie Mercury. But I began to discover that in this audacious, wonderful, powerful icon….there was this sense of loneliness and a sense of anxiety and I could relate the two together.” Rami paused, a small smile on his face as they all listened intently. “I want to thank this person for discovering that in me.”

Ben encircled Emmy’s waist and held her tightly. He knew exactly who Rami was speaking of. Gwilym and Joe did, too. But she was oblivious, simply watching her new friend with happiness. The man who portrayed her father. The man who, really, allowed her to embrace herself, too. This win was so much bigger than all of them.

“Everyone, now is the time I’d like to present to you the heart of the Mothership. The woman who carries the last breaths of Freddie Mercury and Jim Hutton in her lungs,” Rami turned his head toward where they stood and grinned. “Emmanuelle Mercury.”

Beneath his touch, Ben felt Emmy freeze. Her entire body seemed to lurch, and then stood completely still. Through her spine he could feel her heartbeat thud as the gasps and whispers erupted in the room. Reporters stood from their seats, waving their hands in an attempt to get the first question in. But they all shared the same bewilderment. So did Emmy.

“Miss Mercury?” Rami called, outstretching his hand toward her.

Ben understood fear of judgment. Of not being able to live up to everyone else’s expectations. But the wisdom inside of her and the kindness she offered people from her lips had pulled him tight. The only reason he was able to be in this movie was because of her.

She hadn’t allowed him to miss this opportunity.

Now he was going to repay the favour.

Ben squeezed her tightly and leaned down to kiss her neck. The closest he had been to her skin. And she exhaled at the contact, giving him exactly enough time to pull away from her and gently nudge her forward with a hand at the curve of her back.

Emmy stumbled, if only for a moment, hand covering her mouth as her glassy eyes began to spill tears. The moment she revealed herself from the sidelines the cameras flashed like a fireworks show. Shutters clicked so loudly that none of them could hear as Rami moved his mouth and motioned for her. She reached her hand toward him like a blind woman trying to find her way.

And she found it.

Rami took her hand and pulled her toward the mic, and folded her fingers around the Oscar statuette. Joe and Gwilym whistled behind him as the reporters hushed themselves to bring applause to her name. To her meaning.

He turned back to the crowd. “Settle down,” he warned, and waited until they rumbles subsided and it was quiet enough for him to speak again. “This woman right here has taught all of us involved in the film to love the parts of ourselves that no one claps for. She gave every part of herself to make Bohemian Rhapsody possible.”

With a flourish signature to the film, Rami stepped back from the microphone and allowed her to step up. Tears glittered on her cheeks and her eyes were turned toward the ceiling. As though she was wondering if Freddie and Jim were watching her now. If they were proud.

When she hesitated to speak, cradling the award against her yellow gown, she turned toward them. Ben blew her a kiss, but her brows remained pulled low. Unsure of herself. Unsure of the room. Until he felt a firm hand on his shoulder and watched as Roger Taylor stepped forward. Still hidden, but nearly on the stage.

Emmy drew a small X shape over her heart with her finger, and he reciprocated. Just like they had both done that day in the studio. And whatever meaning it held, she took a deep breath and nodded to herself. And spoke.

“It is empowering to step outside of ourselves,” Emmy began, wiping a tear from her cheek, looking out at the ocean of journalists. “But my two fathers taught me that when we shed our doubt, we can become someone new.”

As she steadied herself, Ben took the moment of quietness to lean toward the drummer. “Excuse me, sir, but what does this mean?” he wondered, and when the drummer looked at him he drew an X over his chest.

Roger chuckled, turning back to the most beautiful woman in the room. “Whenever she needs reassurance, she’ll cross her heart, asking me to cross mine. Silently she’s asking me if I think she’s capable. And, of course I do, so I draw the X.” He gave a soft smile. “I silently promise her that I won’t let her fall. Neither will Brian, or Joe, or Gwilym, or Rami or the rest of us. And certainly not you.”

The answer made him blush. Of course she was as gentle as a flower, no matter the strong front she put on; everyone needed someone. So he turned back to Emmy, sliding his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

“We are not tarnished,” Emmy said, holding conviction in her words as she pushed her shoulders down. “In fact, we are pure, even if we can’t fathom it in the moment. And we get so lost in our heads and drown in our problems so often we never take a step back to appreciate the things around us. Within us.”

She allowed herself a smile.

“We fall off the mountain that took us forever to climb and we think it’s the death of us, but who can say it’s not just us being reborn? We begin again and again because we know it leads to something new. Something better. And my parents taught me that we should never let the flames determine our ending.”

With a little nod of finality, Emmy took a step back from the microphone and Rami immediately began to clap. The sound filled the silence, and then Roger added himself to the applause. Ben, Joe, and Gwilym couldn’t quite pull themselves from their awe fast enough to beat the burst of energy from the journalists, but soon they were clapping, too.

“Home is where the Mothership is,” Rami said to them all as he passed the mic to kiss her cheek.

She handed him back the Oscar statuette with a bow, her lips forming a dozen thank-you’s before she turned on her heel and gave him back the stage. Emmy, hands no longer shaking, leaned in to Roger’s embrace and the proud arms of Joe and Gwilym.

But when she turned to Ben, he found himself completely unprepared. She pressed her lips to his and it obliterated every thought. For the first time in a long time, Ben’s mind was locked into the present. The worries of everything and anything evaporated like a summer shower onto a hot car. His usual mode of running was suddenly suspended, and he didn’t want this kiss to end.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her tightly against him. He was drunk on her, and all he wanted to do was touch. And within moments, the soft caresses became firm, and he savoured her lips and the quickening of her breath that matched his own.

A kiss like this was a beginning. A promise of much more to come.

“Thank you,” Ben said as he pulled away, pressing his forehead to hers. He didn’t care that everyone was watching them.

Emmy smiled at him, hands on his shoulders. “For what?”

“For being you.”