Perhaps it was an ending, perhaps it was a beginning, perhaps it was both at the same time. Maybe it was just another chapter in his life that was going to come to an end before beginning a new one. After all, the story wasn't done yet, was it? Stories and plots to finish up while others had yet to even begin. Whoever was in charge out there, he was thankful that they had gifted him with this small moment of happiness. For a moment it seemed as if the pain had subsided into nothing, leaving him feeling as if he was floating on a cloud away from the ground below to observe everything like a narrator of everyone else's story.

As a paragraph of joy finished, he and Freddie removed themselves from the piano, looking at each other for a split second before divulging into childish laughter.

"Least my piano skills are better than my voice." John commented

"Oh come now! Your singing isn't that bad." Freddie retorted.

"Yeah, okay." John scoffed. "Let's see if you're still saying that if I take your place on stage."

"Now, that wouldn't be fair to the audience. If they wanted a shitshow, they could've gone to a bar in Liverpool."

John sniggered as Freddie playfully hit the keys of the piano, a crashing echo bouncing off the walls that made him cover his ears. Freddie just burst out laughing before resuming his improvisational playing. John just grinned and swung his legs back and forth, watching Freddie's fingers dance across the keys like it was second nature to him. The beautiful melody filled the flat, John's very soul feeling like it was being lifted out of his body and dancing along the notes themselves.

The door slammed open, cutting the music off like a knife. A disheveled Roger stood there, his hazy stare attempting to focus on them. Bags were draped under his eyes, his hair stuck out at odd angles, and he could only guess at when the last time he had shaved was.  

"Roger, darling, there you are!" Freddie exclaimed as he shot up from his seat. "Where've you been?"

No response; the gears were too busy working around in his head to form a proper response.

"You think he's alright?" Freddie asked.

"Probably not." John replied. "Looks like he crawled out of that pub in Liverpool."

"So you finally said something?" Roger finally asked.

John froze on the spot, his face burning as his stomach sunk. He looked down at the ground out of habit and tried to avoid the questioning stares from the two around him; each of them posed different questions that all linked back to the same topic, one which John knew all too much about despite how much he wished he could remain quiet and shrug in response.

"Yes, yes alright I did." John admitted. "I couldn't let it go on any longer...He was gonna go see...Bret-" Freddie tensed up, "-again but I chased after him. I just...couldn't sit there and let everything happen again."

John looked up, seeing something flash in Roger's eyes before a weak smile spread across his face. For once, something genuinely happy came out of his mouth.

"Glad to hear that."

It was short, but it was something different, and that seemed to be the recurring theme today. But why did it all feel wrong to him? Everything around him felt like the inverse of what it should've been. Did he really deserve everything that he was getting when Roger was left feeling as bad as he had felt before?

He felt a tap on his shoulder from Freddie, who gave a quick nod towards Roger who was still swaying from side to side at his spot in the doorway. Without saying anything, Freddie stepped forward and placed his hands on Roger's shoulders.

"C'mon dear, get some rest." Freddie whispered as he led Roger down the hallway towards his bedroom.

John could barely decipher whatever it was Roger had mumbled out in response as he allowed Freddie to basically carry him to his bed. He followed, standing at the foot of the bed as Roger instantly fell down face first onto his mattress, his body at an awkward angle.

"You guuyyysss are amaaazzzing..." Roger muttered. "Leettt me know when Briaann gets...back."

He gave a nervous glance towards Freddie whose face had paled at the request. John made an attempt to help Roger get out of that bizarre position only for Freddie to hold him back. Freddie shook his head and ushered him out of there, closing the door behind them.

"Think he'll remember any of this?"

"Nope. Been there enough times and he'll just wake up with a splitting headache and as dehydrated as the fucking desert." Freddie said.

Within a few minutes, they were seated at the counter, each unsure of what to say. In John's case, he knew what was keeping himself silent. Was that what he looked like? Did he really sound like that? God the amount of times he'd berated Roger for not understanding whatever it was that was pulling him down tightened around his thoughts like little, devilish snakes. It was just the same performance, just this time the roles were reversed in the worst possible way. How he wished this act would end so they could see how the story would finish. And yet, would it ever? Would they just be stuck being tossed around like little chess pieces? He could feel the knot in his stomach tighten as he felt the weight on his chest grow heavier.

No...No don't. He told himself. It's not your fault...Don't...Please...John let out a heavy sigh, catching Freddie's attention.

"What's wrong?"

He chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, hoping for the proper words to come to him. For a second he considered resorting to the old 'it's nothing', but the look of curiosity and concern on Freddie's face stifled it.

"I'm just worried about him, that's all. Roger's so expressive and, well, emotional with everything. I just hope he'll find a way to get through this."

"Oh come now, this is Roger. He'll be all dramatic for a while and then come around."

"Yeah but...I just feel like having us around wouldn't help. I know seeing him and Brian together never helped me feel better..." He admitted.

Freddie paused for a moment to consider his next sentence. During that moment, John could only remember all those times he felt envious of what Roger and Brian had. It left him feeling bitter because of all those times he'd stayed quiet instead of acting on what he'd actually wanted. Now he actually had something similar to what those two had together and all he felt was guilt.

"It just doesn't seem right..." John continued. "They break up and I get you? It doesn't seem fair that Roger's suffering right now while I get to experience what I've always wanted."

"John, listen to me." Freddie started. "It's not your fault. You've seen them acting a bit off lately anyway. Perhaps it was time that this fight came about so they could air it all out. Now, don't get me wrong, Brian's a complete ass for cheating on him and I don't blame Roger for acting like this. It was about a decade's worth of trust that was thrown out the window because of his choices. But this has got nothing to do with you."

"I know it doesn't. I know! Yet...I still feel like it is. It's stupid and I shouldn't feel guilty over literally nothing. It's like, something good happens to me and I've got to find a way to ruin it for myself because I'm just overthinking everything. Then, it all just sours and then I'm right back where I started."

John looked up, Freddie leaning into the palm of his hand and staring intently at him. His nerves were bouncing around, a small voice telling him to shut up and not let others know. Like this one conversation was going to help? Shut it now before they know too much and leave because you're annoying.

"It's just...I never felt better seeing Roger and Brian together and...what if Roger's gonna feel the same way?"

A spark appeared in Freddie's eyes. "Well, in that case, let's go out then!"

"Wait-that's not-" John started

"Why not? Give Rog a bit of alone time and you and I can spend some time together." He bared a cheeky grin, one that brought a hot blush to his face.

Before he could give a proper answer, Freddie was on his feet and racing to get his coat on. John just sat there, still trying to process everything that Freddie had just said to him. He stared in Freddie's direction as he turned his attention back to him.

"Well? Come now, we've got things to do!" Freddie said, now rushing back over to him. He yanked him up, pulled him over to the door, and held his coat out for him; Freddie's eyes brightened up even more once he buttoned up his jacket that he seemed to be vibrating in place.

"After you!" He said, bowing into a low courtesy and holding the door open for him, John's heart racing in his chest as the blush spread from his cheeks to his entire face, quickly rushing through at least ten different shades of red before he even stepped out the door.

...

"So, where you wanna go?" Freddie asked as they trekked down the sidewalk.

John was still flustered by the whole situation upstairs; the words got lost inside his mind to the point that he didn't quite know what Freddie was asking. The nightlife stormed around him: people loudly chatting with their friends, music blaring from the local pubs, and cars dashing around, their engines revving obnoxiously as the drivers attempted to woo the local single girls.

"Hello? John?"

"Hm? Oh, uh...not sure..." John murmured as they turned the corner.

Freddie pursed his lips. "Come on, surely you've someplace in mind? A restaurant? Ooh, maybe the cinema? Is there a film you wanna see? I wouldn't mind sharing a snack either! Ooh! Ooh! Maybe there's a shop open and we could find you some new clothes! Or me. Or both!"

John just shrunk back. Any response was lost to him as the noise started to get louder and louder. His nerves were firing off at any sudden noise, the rest of it blurring into one raucous mess that was as pleasant as a wet sock.

"John, you alright?"

"It's just loud as all hell." He muttered.

Freddie's eyes lit up. Once more, Freddie grabbed his wrist and pulled him down the street, John's coherence being left a few meters behind as the scenery whipped past him in a flurry of bright colors. The only stationary thing being Freddie, who was as sharp as ever; he occasionally looked behind him, his whisky eyes glimmering in the lights surrounding them as the wind blew his hair back to give him a clear view of his face. Even with the stares from around him as they rushed down the sidewalk, he found himself focused solely on wherever Freddie was dragging him off to.

It took only a few minutes, but the cityscape and cacophony slowly faded in the distance as they arrived at their local park. The lights were casting a soft glow onto the sidewalk and grass surrounding them while a select few managed to let their shine hit the small lake nearby, the natural, white moonlight mingling with the artificial yellow light bulbs across the lake's choppy surface.

"How's this?"

"Uh-"

"Oh come now, I know you know more words than that!" Freddie chided.

Yet the dictionary was evading him entirely, leaving him with a garbled mess of words in his mind that came out as another "Uh..." instead of anything coherent.

"I'll take that as a compliment then." Freddie replied as he walked towards the lake, John snapping out of his stupor and following him.

The ground grew softer with every step until he was about an inch deep in mud. Freddie continued on, occasionally kicking the mud off his shoes yet swearing under his breath about how he'd have to replace them after all this.

"I-I think that area's dry." John finally said as he motioned towards a set of stairs that were a couple meters away from them.

"Oh he speaks!" Freddie commented as he kicked more mud off his shoes.

By the time they reached the stairs, Freddie had moved onto cursing the weather for ruining his shoes. John glanced down, seeing his own shoes caked in the brown slop.

They took a seat on the stairs, John's heart pounding as he prayed to whatever deity would listen that nobody would notice or question. For once it seemed like it was working, as nobody seemed to even notice their presence, let alone care enough to walk downstairs and try to talk to them.

Freddie let out a long sigh and stared up at the sky, the moonlight turning his hair a shade of indigo that rivaled the lake below. John just stared, unsure of what to do next. However, that didn't stop Freddie from noticing him and looking down at the ground, a vicious blush covering his face as he grinned.

"S-sorry I..." John began.

He was instantly cut off by a kiss, the rest of his apology vanishing as he sat there with his eyes wide while his hand reflexively gripped the grass below. When Freddie pulled away, he was still frozen, his mind behaving like a TV without connection.

"Don't." Freddie said. "You don't need to apologize for anything."

His stupor faded away as Freddie came back into focus. "I-I know...It's just what I do sometimes." He admitted.

"You've been like that for years; it's okay so you don't need to say you're sorry every thirty seconds."

"It's not just that...It's like a reflex at this point. I dunno how to explain it but it just feels like...it'd fix something? I dunno, it's stupid. So-"

"John, come now. It's fine. I don't care if you apologize or not, it's not gonna bother me. But for God's sake take some of that stress off yourself! You apologize too much and then when you want it to matter it won't because everyone hears it from you twenty-four seven!" Freddie exclaimed.

"I know...I just...Hmm..."

Of course he was right, but the static was still there as the words got jumbled up again, the ever powerful python of apologies rising up in his throat once more. John just sighed, plucking at a few pieces of dead grass.

"Listen to me; it's not your fault you're shy-" Freddie began.

"Me? Shy? No, where'd you get that from?"

"But you need to listen to that side more! That snarky bitch side that you've got!" Freddie said.

"But I don't want to be the snarky bitch with people. It's fine with you guys because I know you! But with others...I don't know anything about them. You have such an easy time meeting new people! You thrive off being around them! Look at you on stage, you're this beast of an extrovert parading around without your top on while I'm at the back hoping to God I don't mess up."

Freddie sighed. "Well yes, I do like to strut on stage like a stripper. But that took forever for me to find that. You guys weren't there when I was in secondary school; I was that shy artsy kid who barely said a word and was better with a small group than ever daring to approach a crowd past six people. But then came music and singing! It's like, I know exactly what I'm doing when I'm on stage to the point that I can forget all of those nerves and just do whatever!"

"How then? How do you get past it?"

"You don't. It's still a part of you no matter what. That person on stage, that person at press conferences, hell that person at parties are all just different bits you form over the years. You choose what mask you wanna put on until you're alone and you can be open because nobody's there to judge you." His eyes went dark. "People can be so brutal when you decide to open up. You show them another side of you and in an instant they can turn. But we're no better, we do the same thing. We either accept what they're gonna throw at us or we ditch them at the slightest bit of change. It's stupid, it's all fucking stupid." He spat, tearing a hunk of grass out of the ground.

Freddie took in a deep breath, John sitting there with his jaw hanging slack as the anger slowly subsided. "All of us have different parts of ourselves; some bits we love, some bits we hate. But we accept it and move on. You're shy as all hell, so fucking what? There's nothing wrong with being shy. But you're also smart as hell when it comes to finances and engineering and can be a smartass comedian when you want to be. You're a shit hot bass player but also one stubborn ass bull when it comes to writing a song. You're calm and collected but can also flare up at any inconvenience that breaks your back. But that's fine! All of that is fine! You're not gonna be perfect so stop aiming for it because that's not who you are, John. You're always gonna be shy, you're always gonna be quiet, and you're always gonna be a stubborn bitch so you work with it! You just work-"

Following his instincts again, John leaned forward and reciprocated the kiss from earlier, silencing Freddie instantly. Under the moonlight, the blush spreading across his face was even easier to see when he pulled away, John's own face burning as his brain was still frantically trying to put together everything Freddie had just said.

"-with who you are." Freddie said with a grin.

...

John wasn't entirely sure how long they sat there; it felt like a mere five minutes but the moon now sat much higher in the sky and there wasn't any hint of color besides the blackness of space. It was blissfully silent, nothing but the wind rustling the trees and the distant bustling of the nightlife in town. But that wasn't bothering him, not now.

"You feel cold." Freddie finally said.

"I am but-"

"Oh why didn't you say anything! We don't have to keep sitting here!"

"I wanted to." John admitted. "It's nice to just...sit here without anything bothering us."

"We can relax at home if you want. Figure it's a bit warmer there."

"Isn't Roger still there?" John asked.

"Well...Probably.But that's nothing to worry about! I doubt he'll really be doing anything right now! Probably still passed out from earlier..."

"Might be...God I hope he bounces back soon. It's just...not like him to be so down on himself."

"A lot's happened. He's processing it in his own way and, well, being destructive and loud is about as Roger as you can get." Freddie replied as he sat up.

"I guess."

"C'mon, your hands are ice. Let's relax where it's not four degrees outside." Freddie teased.

With that, the short walk home began. The nature of the park slowly dissolved into a cityscape, buildings conquering the trees while the asphalt was quickly overpowering the grass. There was an odd sense of calm in the air; despite the bustling city life, there wasn't an impending sense of doom hanging around him like many times before.

There was a kick in his stomach as Freddie grabbed his hand and led him down the street, tightly gripping it as he turned around to look at him.

"You know, this is nice." Freddie said. "Wish we'd done it sooner."

His face burned for a moment before a smile pulled at his lips.

"Oh I just love it when you smile like that!" Freddie beamed.

"Really? I was always kinda embarrassed 'cause of my..."

"No no please, go on, finish that sentence." Freddie said, playfully crossing his arms as he raised an eyebrow. "What about your smile made you embarrassed."

"Well...I mean I always hated that gap I've got and-"

"John listen, if I could run around looking like a hamster fucked a horse, I don't think you've anything to worry about."

"Oh come on, it's not that bad!"

"Yes it is! Only thing this wonky mouth is good for is bitching and singing." Freddie replied as he began walking.

"I always found it kinda cute..." He whispered, his face catching fire again as the realization settled in with what he'd just said.

"Really?"

"I-I uh...Yeah..." John admitted. "It was the first thing I noticed and-"

"Big shock there." Freddie interjected.

"Heh...yeah but I didn't mind. I mean, out of everything that day I just remember being so nervous around you. I didn't care about how your teeth or hair looked, I never saw them as 'mediocre' or weird. I mean, I hadn't seen anyone's teeth look like that but they never bothered me. It was like...God I'm rambling..."

Freddie just smiled. "Well, since you didn't care about my hair or teeth, what did you care about?"

John paused for a second, the memory flooding his thoughts; he was suddenly a teenager gawking at Freddie standing in the hallway, staring right at him, those old emotions fluttering in his stomach as his words flew out of his mind.

"Your eyes."

Silence. Freddie stopped walking. "Really?"

"Yeah...I dunno, it's just what caught my attention. I've never seen that shade of brown or that much enthusiasm in a pair of eyes before."

Freddie's face went crimson as he gave a wide smile, one that allowed the tips of his teeth to peek out from under his top lip. A dreamy light filled his eyes, making John's heart skip as he just stared and watched the emotions play out upon Freddie's face.

"Well, mine was your hair."

"My w-"

"Now, that's not the biggest thing. You weren't smiling when I met you, so all I could see was a shy pair of eyes on a scared little face surrounded by a head of hair that I just wanted to twirl around for hours and hours."

If John's face got any hotter, he'd be competing with the surface of the sun.

"I also love that look you get when you seem to forget English." Freddie teased.

They turned the corner back home, John's face still burning. He leaned back against their building and took out a cigarette. Freddie kicked his leg back against the wall as John took a long drag, reaching in and grabbing the worn out package and took out the last one, handing it over to Freddie who smiled and took it. He leaned over, cigarette still in his mouth, and lit the end of Freddie's cigarette, watching the embers dance over to the opposing end until Freddie's had enough of their own to stand alone. Freddie stayed there for a moment, the soft glow reflecting in his eyes that made them resemble a glass of whisky in front of a lit fireplace. John just stared, unable to move as his mesmerized gaze watched the shine grow within Freddie's eyes. A few ashes fell from the end of his cigarette, landing softly on the ground as Freddie took in his own drag, the fire spreading quickly across the end of the cigarette. It'd be gone in a few minutes, the fire being put out once Freddie crushed it with his heel, killing its potential to do more. But it was satisfied in the moment, for it was doing what it wanted to do from its inception at the tip of his lighter: burning. The flame wasn't concerned with what it could do, but instead continued to burn across the cigarette with every inhale Freddie took. It could be so much more, but it would soon be nothing more than ashes on the ground, ready to be swept away and become something entirely new; it might not be a flame anymore, but its effect would be felt by those who were using it now who would forget about it in another ten minutes.

"John? You alright?"

"Hm? Oh yeah, just thinking." He said as he took his final inhale before dropping the cigarette and crushing it with the heel of his boot.

As they headed inside, the heat of the room hit his face. He quietly sighed as Freddie took the lead and headed upstairs. John paused for a moment, the realization settling in over what had just happened. Surely it wasn't...not that soon, right? But what else could it be? If there was another word for sitting by a lake with your years-long crush with a few kisses mixed throughout, he didn't know it.

With that, he just smiled and followed Freddie. The door was already open, but Freddie was still standing in the doorway.

"Everything alright?" John asked.

"Well, not exactly!" Freddie answered. "Either we've been robbed by awful burglars or Roger had a meltdown."

"What?!"

John looked in: broken glass covered the ground while a newly formed indent sat in the wall closest to him. Nothing had been taken, at least from what he could see, but the couch was pushed out of place and a barstool had been overturned and was now laying closer to the door than the counter.

"You really think Roger would've done all this?" John asked.

"Who else does this?! I don't think Brian would've come in and trashed the place because he's angry." Freddie barked. "Goddamnit!" He stomped his foot. "Roger!" He shouted. 

"Fred, wait-"

"No, he's not gonna tear up the fucking place like this because he's angry. He can rip up a magazine, drums, or even his fucking bedroom but he's not gonna break our things and fuck up our living room like an insolent child!"

Freddie stormed down the hall, John quickly following after him and trying to avoid the broken glass on the carpet. Within seconds, Freddie halted in front of Roger's door that was slightly ajar.

"Oh...Oh, John-"

"What? Is he alright?!"

"Shh!" Freddie hissed as he motioned with his hand.

John peered over Freddie's shoulder, his eyes widening as every scenario that had played out in his head went up in flames, leaving him empty except for the cloud of confusion that stopped all other thoughts from forming.

Sure enough, Roger was there, his arm draped over the side of the bed while his face was buried into the crook of his other arm, barely moving except for the heavy rise and fall of his chest. What he hadn't expected was to see Brian wrapped around him, his hand softly intertwined with Roger's. Their clothes were strewn across the floor, including a t-shirt that had been ripped cleanly in half next to a pillow that was sitting against the wall.

"What-"

"Look." Freddie prompted as he pointed his finger towards Roger.

It was then that the confusion reached its peak; right on Roger's finger sat something that wasn't there before: a single gold ring that was encrusted with little, crimson rubies that softly glittered from the hallway light.