F.M

"Your... fiancé?"

Hayes looked as though he may suffocate, "Yes! That's the word I was looking for!"

"Congratulations."

"On what?" His eyes widened, "Oh yes! The engagement, you're congratulating me on the engagement, because I'm engaged."

He should mention the fact he's engaged.

"The second greatest piece of news I have heard this week!" A croaky voice boomed behind me.

An absolutely terrifying man appeared and clapped Hayes on the back. Picture your most terrifying headmaster, then breed that with a caricature of a sneering politician, and you would have what I was currently standing in front of.

Hayes who already looked like he was drowning in air, now appeared as though he was going to throw up. "That's right!"

The calm and collected Hayes I was accustomed to was nowhere to be found. He was floundering so far out of his comfort zone it looked like he may never find his way back. Strange considering he was with his 'fiancé' and who looked to be his father.

"Oi, you're the music fellow." His father surveyed me with distaste, "I heard you and my son were engaged in fisticuffs."

Hayes let out a small groan as he buried his face in his palms.

How the fuck do you talk to the Lord Chancellor? Do you bow? What do you call him!? I snuck a glance towards Hayes who was now chewing furiously on his bottom lip. He clearly wasn't about to step in and be helpful.

"That was a- it was a misunderstanding, sir?"

He looked me up and down as if I was some sort of tart, "I see. Freddie isn't it?"

"That's right."

"I'm Alastair, Hayes' father."

"This can't be happening." I heard Hayes mutter to himself as Angela skipped off to converse with another lady who had snagged her for a chat.

"Very nice to meet you."

"I'm sure it is." Alastair hummed, "Glorious day isn't it?"

Like a normal person, I assumed he was talking about the weather and the races in general. "Mhm, nice day to enjoy the races."

Alastair's bushy grey brows knit together as if I had said something stupid. "What?"

"The Falklands." Hayes quickly whispered in my ear as his father looked away for a brief moment.

Somehow, I considered that the most sexual encounter I have had in over a month. Whatever that says about me, I don't know. Maybe I'm slightly attracted to Hayes, but we'll never know for certain. If I was, I'm sure it would be very obvious, which it isn't thus far. Yes, that all sounds about right.

"Oh yes! The Falklands."

Alastair smiled at that, "Beautiful day for Britain." His gaze turned towards Hayes, who's tie was now in his hands. "Are you alright?"

"Me? Why wouldn't I be? I'm engaged and Britain just won a war!" Hayes waved his hands about, causing his tie to fall down, directly into a shallow puddle. "I'm happy as can be!"

"Oh for gods sake," Alastair sighed impatiently, "Go compose yourself, the press are all around."

Hayes nodded obediently as he plucked his tie up, "Be back in a mo'." He cringed at himself before he quickly strode away.

Which left me alone with the bloody vice-prime minister of the United Kingdom.

"Sorry about him," Alastair murmured, "I'm sure he started whatever altercation happened between the both of you, but I have to play favourites for the media. I'm sure you'll understand."

Alastair Griffith was absolutely terrifying, and meeting him, explained a hell of a lot about Hayes. His mere presence was intimidating, so I set about backing up slowly. A thread of worry was also nagging at me upon seeing Hayes so stressed. It's just normal human instinct to be concerned about someone, that's all.

"I don't like your kind lingering near my family... leaves an unwanted stain on our image." Alastair gave me the polished smile of a politician, "I'm sure you understand that too."

"My kind?"

Alastair made air quotations as he replied "musicians." It was then he clapped me on the back and went on his merry way.

What a fucking asshole. Between him and Angela, no wonder Hayes is such a grumpy twat.

After that whole awful interaction, I stalked off to find the bathroom. Of course that's where I found Hayes having what looked to be the start of a breakdown. His wet tie was slung across his shoulder, along with his jacket. He began rolling up his sleeves when I approached.

"Are you having a stroke?"

Hayes didn't answer as he cupped some water between his palms. He flicked a few drops over this face before letting out a long irritated exhale, that didn't seem to ease any bit of tension from his body.

"Hayes?"

"What?" He snapped, "Why did you follow me?"

Ah he's back to normal.

"I wanted to use the bathroom," I grumbled, "Not everything is about you. Bloody narcissist." Okay, maybe it wasn't a wise decision to wind him up.

"I'm not in the mood for you right now."

"On the contrary, you seem to be in a fantastic mood." I chirped, "So friendly towards everyone-"

"Don't fucking push it, I mean it."

A vicious streak of anger threatened in his tone, and even I wasn't idiotic enough to continue down the current path. So I tried a less sarcastic approach, "I was only concerned-"

"Don't be. We aren't friends, we aren't anything." He seethed, "You're just a bloody good connection for my job that I never wanted to fucking keep!"

"My god," I said in a cool tone, "You're quite the bitch aren't you?"

I think it only pissed him off more when I kept a level head. A muscle in his jaw was close to breaking point with the amount of tension lying there. It was then he returned to the man I was much more  familiar with.

"Did you come here to pick a fight? To irritate me?" Smooth- his manner was smooth once again.

"Maybe the latter, what were the two options again?"

Hayes chuckled mirthlessly as he shrugged on his jacket again, "It's not a wise path, I assure you."

"I can handle a self-entitled prick who wants to cast his cloud over the rest of the world." I in turn assured him.

"Poetic," Hayes skirted around me, "Perhaps you should apply that to your music."

"You and that girl are a match made in heaven," I called out after him, "You were too ashamed to even admit you were with her. What does that say about it all?"

The door slammed shut, and he certainly didn't react to that the way I expected him too. Well Hayes can fuck right off! What a bad mannered- negative- moody- stupid... stupid... prick!

Oh well, that's me done with him for good. I wash my hands of him. Good riddance!

I said as much to Phoebe when I caught up with him again a few minutes later.

"Freddie, wouldn't you think that all explains his moods? Living a lie tends to make people miserable."

"It's not my problem if it does."

"I know that, I'm just saying." Phoebe shrugged, "If he was anything other than a straight man, considering his background, he must feel suffocated."

"I really don't understand why you're saying all this to me." I searched my suit pockets for cigarettes, "Besides, he may not be gay. You know that lovely girl from earlier? He's proposed to her."

Phoebe had switched from gossiping diva to concerned mother superior in an instant, "So he's quite literally about to ruin his life?"

"Bloody hell, why do you care that much?"

"Because I was Hayes at one point, it's lonely and terrifying." He rubbed the back of his head, "And I had friends to help, but it still felt that way. Does Hayes have anyone? I doubt it."

"If he doesn't, it's his own fault." Okay, I sound like a prick. "What I mean is, if he wants to be alone, let him. He made it very clear that him and I aren't even close enough to he named acquaintances."

"Considering you spent all last week planning ways to meet and talk to Hayes again, I think you see more to him than a moody prick."

"You would be so wrong in saying that."

"You set a clock in the house to New York time."

"What!?" I spluttered, "No I didn't!"  I waved my hands about, "If you saw that one of the clocks was broken, you should have fixed it."

"Is that what you're going to go with Freddie?"Phoebe sighed, "Really?"

"If you're trying to make me take the blame for your carelessness it's not going to work."

Phoebe merely rolled his eyes, "Okay."

"Yes, okay." I sniffed.

It was then I went off in search of someone who wouldn't speak so much bloody nonsense! Unfortunately for me, my moral compass swung in the direction of attempted compassion because only a few minutes later, I made the most likely stupid decision to check on Hayes.

___

I peaked my head inside the one of the many marquees and spotted Hayes strewn out on a chair, with his goddaughter perched on his lap. He had a race programme set out in front of him on the table where a clear cup of amber liquid sat.

"No Lottie, your method isn't working." He sighed with exasperation, "We play the odds, not eenie meeny-"

"-miny mo!" The girl exclaimed and pointed down, "This is the one!"

"The odds are 16-1! And he's skittish today, remember the one who kept jumping about when we went to go look at them?"

"He's 16? That's too young to race."

"You really seem to have a good system going there darling." I dragged a chair over, which had Hayes immediately glaring.

"Thanks." Lottie smiled, "Can you tell uncle Hayes that? Cause he never believes me..." The sweet smile vanished in an instant, "Wait, you're Freddie Mercury."

"And Freddie Mercury was just leaving." Hayes said coldly.

"Hey! Don't be rude." Lottie shot me a look as if to say 'sorry about him'."

"You're the one who threatened him earlier." Hayes replied childishly.

"No, that was Edward."

"Yeah it was Edward," I agreed.

Hayes watched me suspiciously, but the previous anger was gone. "Lottie, there's your mother, why don't you run along?"

"Okay..." Lottie sighed and gave him a quick peck on the cheek, "Bye Freddie!" She gave a shy wave and raced off.

"She's adorable-"

"Again, what do you want?" He folded his arms.

I should have prepared a bloody speech or something.

"I know you said not to irritate you, and that were nothing to each other," I spoke and hoped more connecting words would follow, "But ah, people are meant to worry for each other, apparently... and you are two cards short of a full deck right now."

Hayes stared me down for a moment, his lips thinned. It was then his cheekbones flexed as he swallowed deeply. I prepared myself to be snapped at.

"I don't think I ever made up a pack before."

"What?" I frowned, once again surprised by his reaction.

"I said, I have never made up the full pack before." Hayes chuckled, "There were always a few cards missing."

"I don't mean that you're crazy, but my god, I thought you were going to pass out back there."

Hayes rubbed at his brow, "England brings out the worst in me I'm afraid, as does my barmy family." He averted his gaze, "And I honestly would have snapped at anyone the way I did you, considering the mood I'm in. It's nothing personal, but still, I apologise."

An apology? He's completely changed his tune within an hour.

"I can be a right twat when caught at the wrong moment, I understand."

Hayes nodded and finished off his drink, "My mood is no excuse for what I said, I really am sorry.

"You were clearly over stressed," I waved a hand dismissively, "And I may have tried to wind you up further when you were already like a bloody coil, I'm sorry."

Hayes merely nodded once again, his fingertips brushing over the race programme as he did so. He then proceeded to hold it out further away from himself, squinting.

I don't want to overstep the mark again and ask about his family or fiancé. All I need to do is be friendly and see what happens from there.

"Right," I hummed, ready to put what happened earlier behind us, "So if I were to place a few bets, how unwise is it to pick a horse based off of their name?"

"Oh good god you can't be serious." Hayes looked horrified as he plucked up the race day guide, "Give this a read, and let me know who you'd pick."

"There's no way they named a horse 'My Dear Fellow'." I exclaimed, "I want to put all my money on him."

Hayes shook his head, "Can't let you do that, go with 'Battle Hymn', number 27."

"That's a boring name compared to the rest of them."

"The name doesn't matter." Hayes sighed, "Battle Hymn, he's looking good today, I'm telling you."

"Can I at least go with 'Hollywood Party,' or 'Amorous'?" I continued to wind him up. "They seem like real winners to me."

Hayes' lips quirked, "Fine, don't listen to me. Place your bets, we'll see who wins." He stood up and gestured for me to follow, "Come on, the Wokingham Stakes will start any second now."

"The what?" I frowned, but followed him anyway.

"Wokingham Stakes, the name of the next race." He lingered back a step so that I could catch up with him.

"Aren't they all called the Royal Ascot?"

"You shouldn't have been allowed in the venue," Hayes shook his head with disappointment, "I can't believe they let any riff raff in, the Ascot used to be such a classy affair."

A smug grin ghosted my lips, "I'm music royalty, you know. I deserve to be here."

"I beg to differ." Hayes fixed the dark hair that threatened to fall out of place over his forehead, "You may have been in line to be a musical monarch, but Hot Space really pushed you down the list."

"Am I at least ahead of Bowie and Elton John?"

"I don't want to hurt your feelings." A mischievous glint danced across his eyes.

"Never stopped you before." I scoffed, "Now, I'm going to put money on 'Amorous'. He has the edge on the others, I tell ya."

"The odds are 16-1." Hayes said with exasperation. He then gently tugged me back by the elbow so that I stood in front of him in the bookies line.

"Wouldn't you prefer to beat the unbeatable odds?"

"Funnily enough Freddie," Hayes murmured, "I would prefer to win money."

"How predicable of you."

Hayes merely flashed me a small smirk before he released his grip on my arm. "You're one of the only celebrities I have met that actually admits to a love of money."

"Oh I bloody hate when musicians try and act as though they hate the money they make." I found myself half ranting, "Now I love the music first and foremost, but the money is fantastic too."

"A nice real answer from a rock star."

"I give real answers a lot," I explained, "But your lot likes to twist my words."

"I don't have a 'lot'," Hayes waved his hand dismissively, "I don't see the merit in publishing lies, or out of context snippets. I just have a conversation with a musician on behalf of the people, and relay back what's been said."

"I don't believe it for a second. All you journalists just want to fish around for something juicy to exploit."

"If I wanted to write trashy gossip pieces, I would work for the Daily Mail," Hayes brushed off a piece of lint from his shoulder.

"So if I were to let you interview me, you wouldn't want the torrid details?" I raised a brow.

"As far as I'm concerned, your personal life is yours, other people shouldn't be privy to it, the music you have offered to the public domain, and that's all I care about."

"You sure make pretty speeches," I joked, "Maybe you should be a politician."

Hayes merely grunted his disagreement, "My father tried moulding me to take that post because my other two brothers didn't."

"Where does the love- hate of music come in then?"

Hayes smiled faintly at that as we shuffled up the line, "I love music, but like everyone else, I'm entitled to my taste."

"Okay, but you have to admit that the Hot Space article seemed like a personal attack on me."

"I didn't know you then, so it wasn't personal."

"So the previous Milton Keynes article, where you raved about me?"

"What about it?"

"Was everything you said fact or fiction?"

Hayes was about to open his mouth when the bookie called me forward. It only then dawned on me that I had no cash, or cheques on me.

"Are you Freddie Mercury?"

I smiled, "I am." I quickly reached back and dragged Hayes forward, "My friend here can go first."

Hayes had a smug grin as he rested the weight of his shoulder against mine, "Chickening out?"

"I don't carry cash." I whispered.

Hayes subtly rolled his eyes, and retrieved a cheque book from his pocket, "I want to put two separate bets,  £200 each on Battle Hymn." He scratched out quickly, "And £100 on 'Amorous'." That, he gritted out.

Nosy beggar I was, my eyes grazed over the cheque stubs, all of which addressed to various charities, and other bets. It seemed awkward for Hayes to write with his left as some ink dotted his hand. Snooping, and his close proximity, made it so that I didn't even register that fact that he had just placed two substantial bets on my behalf. He pocketed the cheque book, and his pen before he turned back to me.

"Come on then." He held out two race cards to me, "It's starting soon."

"I'll pay you back-" I found myself stammering, "-you shouldn't have done that-"

"I couldn't expect a struggling musician to pay that amount of money." A hint of amusement flickered in his ocean-like eyes. "If Battle Hymn wins, we're all even. You just owe me for bloody Amorous."

"I owe you for both."

Hayes merely shrugged, and once again waited back a half step so that I could catch up. I wasn't used to walking alongside someone so suave, the company I was used to keeping was usually far more 'common'. Furthermore, in our current setting, I felt very out of place. As if reading my mind, Hayes spoke again.

"I hate how stuffy these events are." The statement sounded hilarious considering his extremely posh accent.

"I thought you would thrive in these sort of circles."

"Freddie, believe it or not, I'm the wild one in my family."

I burst out laughing at his earnest expression, and he almost smiled once again. "What?"

"Sorry," I chuckled as we made the trek up a few steps in the stands, "I just can't imagine the word 'wild' being in any way associated with you."

"I understand." Hayes then proceeded to take a bloody handkerchief from his pocket and wipe down the bar in front of him so that he could lean on it.

Yeah, he's just absolutely crazy.

"The white flag yet to be raised," the commentator's voice rang out from a tinny sounding speaker.

"This will be over quick," Hayes murmured.

"And they're away!"

I could barely see a thing, just dark blurs all in a heap. Keeping up the with commentator was even more difficult. Hayes was definitely struggling with his squinted eyes, but he still seemed excitable.

"Amorous is right up with the leaders also."

"Oh you are about to eat your words Hayes." I smirked.

Hayes was too engrossed to answer, he merely scoffed.

"On the near side it's Battle Hymn! Battle Hymn's the leader on the near side."

"You were saying?"

The energy shifted in the stands as the race drew to a close, everyone was shouting and cheering on their horses like their money depended on it.

"But it's Battle Hymn in the centre who's in the lead now as they race into the closing stages! It's Battle Hymn who's been prominent throughout the the first five furlongs!"

Hayes leant forward, hand less than elegantly crushing his race card in his hand. A true smile once again threatened to tug at his lips. I found myself more interested in his reactions than the race itself.

"Sparkling Boy's putting in a good run, but for me, Battle Hymn is just going to win it- Battle Hymn the winner!"

"I bloody well called it." Hayes clapped his hands together with what I could only assume was delight. "Take this as an example of me always being right."

"I'm never going to hear the end of this am I?"

"Oh never," Hayes agreed, "Pick your bets more wisely next time, it's never a good feeling to bet on a losing horse."

"Nobody knows who's the right horse to bet on, you do realise it's all chance."

"You mean there's risk involved in gambling?" Hayes gasped mockingly.

"Oh sod off, you know what I mean." I rolled my eyes, "So I owe you £300?"

"Give it to someone who needs it, I don't."

"I can't decide whether you sound spoilt or selfless."

Hayes shrugged and set about lighting up another cigarette, "Go collect your winnings, think of me when you squander it all."

"Where are you-"

"I dodged my family enough today, but I better get back to them." Hayes body seemed to tighten with stress at his own words, "I know that your interest in betting was only an excuse to distract me, so thank you."

"There you go again, not everything is about you." I joked.

A wisp of smoke escaped Hayes lips as he released a small laugh, "Enjoy your time in the States."

I found myself scratching for something to say, to keep Hayes talking longer, to keep him close by. Who knows when I would see him again if I was touring the USA, who knows if we would even bloody speak again? No, now is not the time to be ridiculous.

Hayes offered me his free hand in a formal gesture, "Look me up when you're in New York."

I didn't even hesitate when I replied, "I will."

___

A/N-
As usual, hope you enjoyed! 🤍