#musicprinted

@musicprinted​ asked: ❝ could you play with my hair? ❞

      freddie laughed at the question-- of course he would! it’d been awhile since he had cut his own hair, and everyone else around him had short hair (save for brian-- who wouldn’t let freddie touch his hair with a five foot pole). so, he shifted on the couch to sit sideways, and immedietly started to try and braid little bits of her hair, with every intention of just braiding them, un braiding, and braiding again.

      “ my sister used to let me do this sometimes, ” mostly when they were younger. he had absolutely no idea what he was doing, but it was nice to just provide that comfort for someone. he loved messing with his own hair when it was longer, just experimenting with the different things he could do-- but it was way better when someone else did it. and he loved to do that to someone else.

      “ i’m not the greatest stylist, but i can do a bloody nice french braid. ”

“No- no, I’m not late, that’s subjective, Love.”

Of course he’s late. His assistant had definitely advised him he was late, but that was a Hell of awhile ago. Not now. No, now, Aldous is in a too small room: “Bit claustrophobic in here, yea? A bit tight. Don’t quite like it, no. Not at all.” 

She hadn’t asked. He had hardly even looked at her, yet, but does so only after he hikes sunglasses up atop dark curls... but then they were put right back down, too bright. “I’ll be smoking in here, so, that’s alright, right? Just’a light, that’s it. Quick like, don’t tattle.” 

After a brief few shows in Canada, Queen embarked on the American portion of their tour, arriving in California near its end beginning at the Forum in Inglewood, holding a two-day residency filled with all the debauchery and lush wine, a band of their calibre could endure. The tour itself was for the album A Day At The Races, though at the rate of their next album, they most likely would be expected to return to the states by the end of the year. Unbeknownst to the band, by that next tour, all but Brian would cut their hair short to the dismay of many though the band would be moving in a new direction by that point though for the time being, they were still as glamorous as ever. 

Following a raucous performance that brought the crowd to their feet at every turn, the band retired backstage for a freshening up and wardrobe change before the press were to return. Roger, already on his second glass of wine, adorned himself in a silken Japanese phoenix blazer over a loosely buttoned black shirt with white pinstripes tucked into fitted denim jeans, pink sequined converse shows and a necklace in the shape of a bird in flight being the accents on his overall colourful attire. He had been feeling rather sluggish but still rather content despite the exhaustion, ready for some attention from the ladies of the West Coast more than anything. Of course, his interest would soon shift when dread filled his system upon being instructed to give at least ONE interview before retiring to an afterparty, his large eyes rolling toward the back of his head in disgust. There was nothing he disliked more than the press and their wrongful drabbles of vomit they called columns.

He took his seat at the throne of a cushioned chair, knees relaxedly apart with a glass of Sauvignon Blanc in his hand, half-lidded gaze awaiting the mousiest little rodent he could imagine approaching him with the most obnoxious comments known to man. At least, that was who he presumed he would meet. Instead, the fair-haired drummer’s eyes soon settled on the crimson locks of hair belonging to the ravishing young woman who was heading his way. Now, that was someone worth being interviewed by, though Roger wouldn’t outright show his newfound interest in her, at least not yet. He chose to remain in his current position, very much glad to let her enjoy the view as his dazzling sapphire eyes fixated on her position, greeting her in a lower, more sultry version of his raspy voice. “So you must be the one who wanted to write me.” he batted his long lashes, only as a means of making her laugh before shifting to sit a bit more upright, extending his hand for a brisk shake. “Only teasing you. Name’s Roger, but I’m sure you already knew that. What’s yours?”

He hadn’t gotten any name at all from the producer, but Joe hadn’t thought much of it at the time. It was a blind date, after all. So when he walked into the restaurant only to be approached by her, it was a bit of a shock. The man had fucking set him up with his daughter? Most fathers would be chasing Joe away from their daughters, armed with baseball bats, or so he assumed. “Well, fuckin’ hell.” A laugh as he returned the hug warmly, still pleased to see Millie again despite his confusion. “Old Robert must like me a lot better than I thought,” said aloud without thinking, chuckling, before they both parted from the hug. “Hasn’t it? Let’s catch up, yeah?” Agreeing with her that it had been forever since they last seen one another, before he moved to join her at the table, pulling out his chair and taking a seat as she went after the waiter.

“Hey, that’s sweet of ya, but don’t worry about it. Gotta move forward now.” Dismissively waving away the subject of what had happened to his band, also too casually. Despite the fact that it had been devastating, and he would do nearly anything to get the band back together now. “I’m alright, got a few new things in the works.” Not entirely true, but for some reason he felt a need to put on this confident front in order to—what? Impress her and make her believe that he was doing just fine? As if his mind was still treating this like a date, even though they were more or less old friends. Or at least friendly acquaintances.

          ONE HUNDRED QUESTIONS. [ accepting. ]

     ❝MY GUITAR !!❞ he exclaims without a moment’s hesitation, brimming with the most bizarre sort of genuine joy ever to eclipse his snide, shitty face.  He’s practically buzzing into another plane of existence as he prattles on and on and on, making grand gestures as if his thoughts are too enormous to be encapsulated with words alone. ❝It’s red -- cherry red, with a little glimmer in the paint.  I’ve had it for ages, and ‘cause I take such good care of it, it’s still perfect.  It’s the same shade as my hair !!  It goes with all my outfits, every single one, and it plays and sounds like a dream,❞ he swoons, clasping his hands together in a dreamy, poignant sigh.  

This was a nice change of pace for her . Instead of the mundane answers some had given her . His seemed to have more life strung into his words . It was charming to her . She had began to jot all this down before his last statement had caught her off guard . Though not completely . Moving one hand to shield her eyes from him as she lowered her features some . A grin beckoning across her ruby lips . “ Oh my god . I can’t believe you just said that . “ A laugh had followed suit, letting her hand drift from her eyes and down over her mouth as she just shook her head at his statement . “ That was so bad . Oh my god . “ A snicker through her nose .

“ Well I think we are done here for now Roger . I only had a few questions to fill out the rest of the band’s answers . So , thank you for sitting down with me . It was a pleasure to meet you . I hope to see you again sometime soon . “ She then leaned forward and offered her hand to shake . After she had gotten up and started to adjust her outfit and closed her book and put it back into her bag . Moving her red curls over her shoulder more as she then walked away towards the food service table in this area they were in . Glimpsing over the food , they didn’t really have much in the way of actual food . More like finger foods . A sigh of disappointment with a shake of her head .

---

Watching the woman break down into laughter over his remark of what might become of him were he to have pursued a career in dentistry brought joy sparkling into his eyes. “You really are surprised? I mean, our band is bloody bizarre, you may have to get used to it whenever you’re around...”  The drummer said with a mischievous grin, nearly covering his lips to stifle any further guffaws to be uttered in sheer response. 

But as fast as their interview had begun, it was over, much to the drummer’s dismay. His smile quickly faded into a mouth agape with loss when the woman recollected her interview materials and leaned toward him to shake her hand in a respectful manner before they were to part both ways. Roger reached over to shake her hand while mustering a grin, uttering, “So soon? It’s a shame...but you were a lovely person to speak to. “ 

@musicprinted​​  ASKED:   “ one of these days , you’re gonna give me a fucking heart attack . ”

that was the trouble of interviewing  LED  ZEPPELIN  wasn’t  it?   she  was  a  lion  tamer  and  a  dog  wrangler  in  one  ,           mastered  in  the  art  of  pulling  conversation  from  jimmy  page  and  keeping  robert  plant  in  his  chair  .             the  blonde  lifts  a  leg  and  puts  it  over  the  arm  of  his  chair,   leaning  back  into  it  lazily    .                  ❛     AA  ---   ALWAYS  A  PLEASURE  TO  SEE  YOU  AGAIN,      MILLIE  DARLING       .               did  G  get  you  a  drink,         what  about  something  to  eat   ?          would  you  like  to  sit  on  my  lap  ?     ❜