“This is my twelfth cup of coffee! I’m not even wound up! Not the least bit! Can you believe it? My twelfth cup! You’d think I would be jabbering and a little jittery but I’m not at all! I’m thinking of getting another cup when we get in the air. Yes! Yes, I’m going to get another cup!” Freddie clapped his hands together and smiled at Mary who was listening to him babble incessantly. “Oh my god!” he said excitedly, throwing his hands out to the sides. “I could order a latte…or a cappuccino! There’s an in-flight barista for us in addition to the chef! My god I’m going to try them all! Yes! Yes, all the café coffee delights! I am going to have each one! Mary when do we take off? Are we close to leaving? Should I order one now?” Freddie went on and on. Mary sighed and sat her magazine aside.

 “Okay, first. You cannot do this for twelve hours, Fred. I can’t deal with it. Second. You are shaking and bouncing a little in your seat. I think you can lay off the coffee for now. Give it…I don’t know, maybe twenty minutes and then see if you still want some, yeah?” Mary encouraged him, rubbing his arm and trying to calm him down a little. Considering he had begun the coffee binge at 3:30 in the morning and it was now 5:15 AM, he was doing fairly good to have only consumed twelve cups.

  “Brian! Brian would you fancy a coffee beverage with me once we get in the air!? You really should have one with me! Oh! I’ll order one for you! Just the minute we get in the air, I will request an in-flight menu and…” Mary cut Freddie off.

 “Ssshhhh…sit back, just sit back and please…please, Freddie just…calm down, love.” Mary patted him again, trying to get him to settle. Brian and Chrissie had that ‘let’s pop a bottle of champagne and get crazy-but-not-too-crazy’ look in their eye. It was the first time they had been away from their son since May and believe me; they were ready for a holiday. Veronica was seated by the window and quietly trying to avoid the Freddie spectacle behind her.

 This is was it. The date was October 14 and the time was now 5:23 AM. It was the plushest, most luxurious airliner I had ever had the pleasure of being on. The hum of the runway noise could be heard and out the windows. The other planes could be seen lining up in their places on the runway for takeoff. It was amazing to me that an airport could already be so busy prior to 6:00 in the morning. Freddie was pecking John on the shoulder mercilessly while Brian and Chrissie marveled at some of the brochures they had collected from some record promoters. Poor Mary was going to need to continually rope Fred back in until he fell asleep from a coffee overdose. Then there was Roger and I….the two bitchiest people on the face of the earth this morning.

 How could anyone possibly be bitchy on the ultra plush Delta Airlines Flight 4173 bound for Los Angeles, California…United States of America? We were surrounded by bucket seats of bound leather, gorgeous navy blue and cream carpet with orange accents, a most beautiful Delta Airlines round area rug and every amenity we could possibly want during our flight. Well, allow me to shed some light on why we were most unpleasant as hell. Roger and I had lived a whirlwind of a life in the past two months. News of the World had been released and we were enroot to LA for the American premiere. None of us, not me, not Chrissie, Mary nor Veronica had ever been to the United States. Roger painted it out to be the most wonderful place he’d ever been. To quote him, when the boys had previously toured there, he said ‘we had a good time in America’….take that however you wish. He and I were beyond excited to get the hell off this runway because Roger had set my expectations very high.

 Roger and I were not morning people…not in the least bit. Well, we were, actually just not….5:23 in the morning people. Typically speaking, we were delightful by 6:30 AM. However, we wanted to arrive in our LA finest and so he and I had been up since 4:00 getting dressed and throwing things all over the bath hoping to god it landed in our suitcases and on this plane. I was clad in my best, thin strapped blue Chanel dress and a lipstick red Louis Vuitton on my shoulder. Actually, it was on my shoulder until right now when I was angrily trying to jam it into the overhead storage with Roger’s shit.

  Now, for the others reasons that Roger and I were on the verge of tearing someone’s head off…we had been busier than we had been in months, possibly all year. Roger had been working on a solo project in addition to the News of the World release. He had been spending countless hours in the recording studio and keeping late nights. The magazine Maritime Living did a four-page feature about our yacht and my favored Equestrian magazine wanted ‘an intimate look at the Taylor’s Surrey Estate’. Chrissie, Mary and I each received offers to do an interview with a mid-sized publication music magazine. Mary and I turned the offers down…Chrissie obliged.  Needless to say, Roger and I’s life had resorted to him coming home when I was asleep or him waking when I was still in bed or vice versa. He and I had been planning our days via telephone. We had hardly kissed each other in the last two months, let alone anything else. We had been so very busy and so very exhausted that this was precisely the first time he and I would be together in the same space for longer than four hours. That leads me to the other part of why we were such bitches. Granted, we were very loving toward each other…it was the rest of the world that needed to go fuck themselves. Roger and I were horny as bloody hell and dying for a cigarette. We hadn’t had sex in a month and that was the truth. Not because we didn’t want to…hell we hadn’t seen each other! Oh, also? We hadn’t had a cigarette since going through airport security. It was a lethal combination that turned us into the worst of people.

 Once having crammed my stupid bag into the overhead storage, I took my seat beside Roger again. Seeing as the plane was leaving soon, it was time to get buckled in for takeoff. Takeoffs always made me nervous. I was usually nauseous until planes evened out in altitude. Roger and I had disgusted looks on our faces because we couldn’t figure out the dumbarse seatbelts.

 “How in god’s name do you fasten this piece of shit?” Roger mumbled at the seatbelt. I examined it carefully. It appeared backwards or something to me.

 “I think we just shove it up someone’s arse.” I answered him as I reached for my pack of cigarettes. Finally! I could light one! There was some beeping from the cabin and our in-flight hospitality crew appeared from behind a thick orange curtain that separated the door to the cockpit from the rest of the jet. Roger shot his eyes up as the crew introduced themselves…we didn’t listen.

 “Oh! It’s simply lovely to meet you all! Is there coffee!? There’ll be coffee right? Once we get in the air.” Freddie asked rather excitedly.

 “Yes, yes there will coffee. I’ll be happy to bring you some once we take off and reach cruising altitude.” The steward told Freddie. His face lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning.

  “Oh my god! You’re American! Oooooh a lovely American man as our steward! This is my lucky day! You Americans love coffee! I bet there’s a lot isn’t there? On this flight? A lot?” Mary put her arm around Freddie and pulled him back so that he was facing the front in his seat. She shook her head and looked to the stewardess.

 “I’m sorry…for him…” she mumbled.  “it’s very nice to meet you.” John and Veronica were still pretty tight lipped until now. Veronica turned around in her seat to watch Roger and I swearing at the seatbelts that we had stretched out to next Tuesday.

 “Lydia!” she called to me. I looked up at her with that ‘fuck you’ kind of glare. “I just wanted to tell you…you looked so gorgeous that day we all got onto the van for that gig these guys played up north…and you look just as gorgeous today.” She smiled sincerely at me. It was just enough to lighten me up for fifteen seconds.

 “Aww, thank you.” I told her as the end of my navy blue seatbelt strap came completely loose from the nylon belt. “Oh my fuckin’ god! How the hell are you supposed to fasten this fuckin’ thing!?” I yelled in disgust, preparing to light my cigarette.

 “Oh, miss. You can’t smoke in here. Not until we’re in the air.” The steward told me. I looked up at him as if I were about to kill him.

 “I…I can’t smoke…until we’re in the air." the attendant calmly told me. I looked at him with a combination of disgust and anger.

"Sir, I mean you no disrespect at all but…fuck this fucking flight! I can’t even get the fucking seatbelt fastened and neither can my husband!” I hissed at him.

 “Here you go, I’ve got ya’. Lovely dress by the way.” The steward reached over and took the now clamp-less seatbelt strap and fixed it quickly, strapping me in securely in less than twenty seconds.

 “Well, aren’t you Americans just clever and thank you for the fucking compliment.” I answered her rather sarcastically. He smiled pleasantly and reached over to fix Roger’s belt before he did the same thing as I. 

 “She’s not usually a bitch, really. Well neither of them are but…I think she really wants that cigarette. He nodded to Chrissie.

 “Can I get you anything else for right now miss?” He asked of me in his American accent that caught me off guard the first time he spoke and now.

 I sighed and gave him an irritated look. "Can you...get me...anythin'.” I began, dragging out my sentence. Well…since you asked so nicely…what I need is a cigarette and a good fuck.I need to get thrown down in your pretty little Delta rug there and get fucked like mad until my knees are raw and my body is spent! I need that so badly that I'm practically shakin' like Mr. Caffeine addiction over there!” Freddie interrupted me.

 “Now, Lydia! Watch that mouth of yours! We’re flying the friendly skies! Save that language for Hollywood, darling! They’ll love you!” he interrupted me.

  “Shut the fuck up, Fred!” Roger called to him.

 “I need a fucking cigarette and I need a fucking orgasm! Do you have that on your little fucking cart back there or do I just need to take him back to the bathroom and put on a show like somethin’ you’ve never seen ?" I knew I had given the steward too much information...I probably should have simply asked for a Cosmo once we were in flight. He looked at me rather speechless.

  "Um...." He quickly looked up to Roger. "For...for you sir?" He asked rather hesitantly. Roger, being just as irritated as I shook his head and flopped his hands into his lap.

  "I'll have what she's fuckin’ havin'…sounds pretty good." He nodded his head at the stewardess.

  “Lydia? Um…now…don’t flip out…and I can’t emphasize that enough but…are you gonna’ blow Roger in the bathroom because if you are I really need to get back there now.” John asked, turning sideways in his seat.

 “John…” I began, sighing. “If I were gonna’ fuckin’ blow Roger on this plane, believe me I would already have these fuckin’ Armani pants of his off.” Oh shit, I was a snappy thing this morning.

  “Okay…so, I’ll wait until we’re in the air.” John said, turning back around.

 “Um…I’ll…I’ll check back with you….when we’re in the air.” The steward said. The steward and the other two stewardesses made their way to the back of the plane.

 “Brian, I don’t think we can sit in front of those two for twelve hours.” Chrissie whispered to him.

 “Don’t worry, darling. All they need is a cigarette and a couple vodka tonics and they will be just fine. Roger will fuck her senseless once we get to the hotel and life will return to normal.” Brian explained, leaning over and kissing Chrissie, wrapping his arm around her. There were three more tones and the captain’s voice came over the intercom. It honestly tickled me to discover it was an American pilot.

 “Goooood morning!” he chimed. Ugh….I hated him already. “My name is Douglas and I will be your pilot for Delta Airlines flight 4173 non-stop service to Los Angeles, California. The United States. The current time is 5:44 AM and we have gotten the okay to move toward the private runway strip. We will be departing at 5:50 AM. Approximate arrival time in Los Angeles is 5:50 PM on October 13. Keep in mind Los Angeles falls in the US Pacific Time Zone. In a few moments I am going to be turning the cabin lights off. Please feel free to walk about the cabin when we level out at cruising altitude. I will turn the fasten seatbelts light off when it’s safe to do so. Call the in-flight staff at any time that you need something otherwise they will leave you be. I am a Queen fan myself and it’s an honor to be your captain!” he added before the cabin lights went out.

“Roger! Roger!” Freddie wiggled around and called to him. Roger took my hand as the plane began to turn and roll toward the long runway. I could feel my stomach starting to turn in knots as my nervousness increased. Roger could sense it and see it in my face.

  “What...” He shot daggers at Freddie.

  “Will you have a French vanilla latte with me once we’re in the air?” he smiled at Roger.

 “No. Go to hell.” Was Roger’s response.

  “Okay, I’ll take that as a maybe then, love!” Freddie turned around to face the front in his seat.

 “You okay?” Roger asked of me, squeezing my hand a little harder as the plane took it’s spot on the runway. We could hear the engines begin to roar louder, indicating decent down the runway was inevitable at this point. I shook my head, not saying anything. “You’re alright.” His voice was soothing to me as he put his arm around me. The engines screamed in the pre-dawn light, the blinking light on the wing of the plane reflected into the cabin. The wheels began to roll, faster, faster and louder as the other runways and the flight tower in the distance began to become a blur. The engine noise turned into a high pitch whine as the unmistakable thud of the wheels lifting into the hatches filled the cabin. This was the part I hated most, and the part where Roger held on to me a little tighter. I knew that once those wheels lifted, you were airborne. The wheels lifted completely and we began to climb in altitude quickly. My ears popped and the cabin pressure changed, as the turbines wailed. No turning back now, we were bound for Los Angeles, California.