The entire day today was spent at the Kensington Market. Ibex had come over for a brief rehearsal, but that was quickly disbanded. The boys still were a bit out of it from last night's outing—Mike hadn't even showed up!

In his defense, it turned out he was needed by a friend up in Liverpool. He was almost not going to come back for rehearsal later tonight, but Freddie insisted on paying the fare there. Part of his pursuit to keep the band as close as possible. It rattled Freddie every time he felt things were falling apart.

You all decided to meet at The Red Lion at seven and wait for Mike to return. But at the current moment, you, Freddie and Rog found yourself still manning the stall at the marketplace. Today's sales had all three of you down. Although the rest of the market had been rather busy, Freddie's and Roger's booth didn't seem to attract much attention.

You had your head in your hand as you leaned on the countertop, staring off into space. On days when Freddie had you work with him and Roger in the stall, you often stared into that pale blue abyss, dreaming of far away lands you'd never reach and that you never quite had to. The beauty of living a fantasy life already was that fantasies no longer had to be longed for as reality. You had your wildest dreams right in front of you. Still it was fun to fall into a daze.

Freddie was fiddling with the organization of things in the booth, trying to make it more presentable—not that you could make junk in a 10ft by 10ft booth look all that presentable. He did his best though. He was sure to always puff up the jackets, pull sleeves out so there appeared to be more items there. Blouses he hung up from high hooks, making sure the most tasteful ones were front and center. From time to time he'd rearrange it like this, he though the variety would maybe change the usual passersby's interest. Rarely it did, but still he tried.

Roger was up in the front fiddling with a mirror by a line of floral blouses hanging up on the side wall. He'd been at it a long while. The old mirror creaked this way and that as Roger moved it about, attracting yours and Freddie's attention as it bowed.

"What the hell are you doing Rog?" asked Freddie, placing an embroidered shirt up as as high as he could, standing on the singular rickety old chair you had.

"Trying to get a view of the girls in the stall across the way," said Roger as he fiddled with the mirror a bit more. You rolled your eyes, finding it equally sophomoric and amusing to watch. He finally got it into position, "There. Get a load of those birds," said Roger as he looked on.

"Let me have a look," whispered Freddie, a sort of humorously cunning look on his face as he came down from the chair. He went over to join Roger in looking through his devious periscoping device.

You sighed and shook your head, "You boys describe yourself as gentleman's outfitters, but you're hardly gentlemen," you remarked.

"Hush now," said Freddie, without even a glance back your way, "We're merely doing research on our competitors. See, a mini-skirt—we've got to sell more of those".

"That's a real mini-skirt alright," added Roger.

"Perverts," you retorted, dismissing them and busying yourself with continuing Freddie's organization.

"Well what else are we to do in this telephone box?" said Roger, turning around to you as you hung up more items, "10p a week and for what?"

"10p for the view I suppose" quipped Freddie, laughing to himself as he turned back around to help you out with the rest of the clothing.

Roger sort of huffed and went back to gazing our the front way, no longer looking at the girls but peeking over from time to time. You and Freddie both worked at arranging the rest on the wall. Freddie got to organizing some artwork in a bin on the floor as Roger looked on at the the booths down the way.

"Look at Alan over there," said Roger, as he looked a few stalls down where business was bustling, "What has Alan got that we don't?"

"Business, that's what" you replied, in slight agreement with Alan's overly busy stall in comparison to yours. Business had been alright as of late, but not overly fantastic. You and Freddie had a new flat with new rent rates, paying them would mean needing more of an income.

Freddie however didn't seem all too depressed, in fact when Roger mentioned Alan he seemed to hatch an idea. He was always coming up with something in the back of his mind every time conversation changed to a new obstacle, but very rarely was it ever entirely visible, "Be right back," said Freddie in a hurry as he exited the stall.

"Where's he off to now?" asked Roger, peaking out the front door of the booth. Freddie had run on down to Alan's booth. Roger shook his head and returned to the mirror.

"God only knows," you replied under your breath, sort of smiling to yourself. Freddie's spontaneity always brought a you a bit of joy.

You went back to sorting out a few things, checking over Roger's and Freddie's profits specifically. Not much had come in but they were making some money. You started making a list of the items that sold best in the hopes that maybe finding more of those in particular would boost your sales. Somehow you all would have to scrounge up enough to keep comfortable in the flat. Maybe you'd be able to save up for a new couch eventually, get rid of that disgusting red sofa. Maybe you'd finally be able to afford actual food for the flat—what a delicacy even just fresh fruit had become. A Freddie quote from long ago rang into your head, "Money can't buy happiness, but it can damn well give it!". Wasn't there truth in that.

In truth, learning the luxury of your old life—that now seemed so long ago—in comparison to where you were now was quite an awakening. Back in 2017, you remember being inspired by the struggle of music artists when they're in the throes of the industry. What you had never thought about was the life before. To everyone back home—whatever that was now—Freddie and Queen were this spark that came out of nowhere, igniting the passion in everyone's soul to be unique. Back home, they were idolized as legends but here they were in front of you, just boys. Boys trying to figure out how to barely just make it in the world. Dreaming of the possibility they could be somebody, but only their heart knowing it was true—long before the rest of the world ever would.

Just then, Freddie returned, quickly snapping you back to reality.

"Well it's settled," said Freddie as he waltzed back into the booth, "I'm working for Alan".

"Working for Alan?!" said Roger, just as surprised as you were.

"I'll still be working here with you Rog darling," explained Freddie, coming back behind the counter to continue sorting things.

"Traitor," mumbled Roger as he crossed his arms and shoved the sides of his coat together.

"Come on now, I've got my share of a flat to pay for and 30%'s not half bad," continued Freddie, "I'm only going to be giving him a few things—I don't have to do any real work, you know," of course Freddie would manage to swing something like that. The three of you had barely even known Alan for very long and yet Freddie already had him eating out of the palm of his hand. Roger was silently up in arms, "You know he's got a position available if you're interest y/n?"

"Oh well, I—" you started before Roger cut in.

"You both are so quick to leave" said Roger, shaking his head, "No wonder business is bad".

"No, business is bad because you spend all day staring up the skirts of potential buyers," you replied, making Freddie laugh, "I mean you've got the mirror out front and everything".

Roger grumbled and brought the mirror back into the stall, making a bit of a commotion as he did so. A commotion was very much usual in Roger's case.

The rest of the afternoon was rather slow from then on. Freddie's deal with Alan Mair was just about the only bit of excitement that really seemed to stir much in the three of your's dusty hallow. You talked with Freddie about a few ideas for the stall, which items might sell better, you brainstormed better presentation. Freddie even had the idea of painting it blue!—given that you were allowed to do that of course. You'd sell more art, place more mirrors around the place, and find more antiques to sell that looked less like junk and more like prized finds. Freddie agreed to give Alan some things but save the best finds for us. That made Roger as close to content as he could get, given the situation.

Before long you closed up shop for the night, you'd stayed late and, much to everyone's disappointment, only received a customer or two more. The three of you left and headed down to The Red Lion. Roger parted ways with the both of you and decided to meet Brian and Tim elsewhere. Guess he'd had a long day, good for him to break free of you two from time to time.

When you got to the pub, Tupp and Richard were waiting for you at a table in the back. Still new to you, this pub was much fancier than your usual haunts. It was more of a restaurant than a pub. It had tall ceilings and decorative wood moldings that traipsed across the the whole of the place, outlining it all. Stained glass chandeliers poked out from the light fixtures and from the view of the large back windows, you could almost see the remnants of the outside courtyard that faded with the sun.

Freddie pulled you and him over a chair, "Hiya, guys," you said as you sat down, "No Mike?"

"Nah," replied Tupp, "He's meeting us back at the flat in an hour or so," he then slid you over a lager, "Here, we got you a pint".

"Oh dear, now if I've told you once, I'v—" started Freddie, about to delve into some form of a rant about saving his voice by only drinking port and lemon on special occasions if any.

"And a port and lemon for you, Fred," said Richard, sliding Freddie over his glass, "Just how you like it," he added with the slightest touch of an eye roll and a smile, almost amused that he knew Freddie's exact movements.

"Thank you dear," said Freddie, gently seizing the glass and taking a mouse-sized swig, then flitting back his hair.

"Yeah, thank you," you replied with a smile and a good sense of gratitude, taking a swig yourself.

You looked up at the ceiling, still admiring the place when suddenly you heard a loud thud. Your attention quickly turned to the table where Richard had pulled out a big high-fidelity reel-to-reel recorder that looked like it hadn't been used in ages. You and Freddie both looked startled a minute.

"—Oops, sorry about that," said Richard as he fiddled with the microphone cable falling off the table, "Anyway, I got to thinking, how about we record some of our rehearsal tonight?"

"For a demo? We're not exactly perfect just yet," said Freddie, Tupp nodding in agreement.

"No, no, no, I've just been needing something to rehearse Green with since our gig is coming up in, what is it?—a day or two!? And I've barely begun to learn a thing," replied Richard, "Without meaning to disrespect, you lot go sodding off everywhere and I'd like to be a genuine part of this band".

Everyone paused a moment to think it over.

"Well...," started Tupp, trailing off.

"Let's do it," stated Freddie, taking another sip of his port and sinking back comfortably into his chair, "We'll need something to document our rise to stardom anyway," You lauded at his confidence but inside a part of you was surprised to realize how important that recording would in fact become, "Come on now, why not?"

"If you say so Fred, it's your song," Tupp then agreed. Freddie nodded and took a gleeful sip of his port and lemon. Richard smiled, he felt a little more at peace with it all. Tupp still was rather serious, it was as if the closeness of the gig had reminded him of how little they were prepared. He pulled out a piece of paper, "I know Mike's not here, but we've got to start deciding on the setlist for Sunday and Wednesday. It's a big gig, Ealing, and if we're selling ourselves as a new band, we've got to sound like one".

"I agree completely," concurred Freddie, "however, I think we need to include more original compositions".

"Eh, I don't know Fred, covers are kind of our strong suit," said Tupp wearily, scratching at the back of his neck.

"He's got a point though," you interjected, trying not to entirely override things and interfere, "Covers were your strong suit, now it's time to show 'em something new. Give it all you've got," you wholeheartedly believed in their abilities, not just because you knew how those would unfold. When the boys were dedicated to giving a good show, it didn't matter what they preformed it was always a crowdpleaser. Better it be something fresh and original.

"But what if 'what we got' isn't good enough?" asked Tupp with seemly genuine concern.

Freddie faked a scoff and smiled, rolling his eyes, "Trust me dear, we're good enough," he said confidently, "We've got me," you stifled a laugh as you saw the slightest fuming look in Tupp's eye. Tupp however kept his cool, he liked Freddie, but times he got to him. Funny how such a shy man could suddenly come so alive when he felt comfortable, "I've written this new—Feelings Ended, Worn Away. And there's always Lover, but you know that," he then started to count out the next few on his fingers, "There's Vagabond Outcast, Green, Boogie, One More Train, Cancer On My Mind—"

Tupp cut him off, "Cancer On My Mind?!"

"It's real heavy, like you like, Tupp," regarded Freddie, finding Tupp's reaction humorous.

"Heavy is an understatement," you added, remembering Freddie's pen damn near smoking when he furiously wrote out the lyrics back in Liverpool. Geoff's floor had the etchings of its lyrics all over it.

"Ooh Mike and I have written this instrumental bit of work, Universal Theme," Freddie continued, "I'm sure it would sound fantastic after Boogie".

"That's an awful lot of originals, Fred. Are you sure about this?" added Richard, just as concerned as Tupp for their performance.

"Have I ever failed to deliver anything but the best? Come on now, we'll have our usual set scattered throughout. Let's give the audience what they want, a good time," said Freddie filled with confidence as he set down his glass after the last sip of port.

"What do you think y/n?" Tupp turned to you and asked.

"What do I think?" you replied, slightly surprised he was asking. The band very rarely asked for your opinion. They usually assumed you had some sort of bias, being Freddie's girlfriend and all. Regardless of whether or not your put in your two cents on any issue, Freddie always got his way one way or another.

"Well yeah. We need an outside opinion. Should we be doing originals?" asked Tupp, looking at you very sincerely as if your answer would determine the change in his tune.

You nodded, "I trust Freddie knows what he's doing," you replied, it was true Freddie was exactly right. This was the direction the band needed to be taking, even if they weren't going to be together for too much longer, "People like to see something different and unique, and with this ragtag team, trust me, you've got something".

"Alright then, it's settled. Freddie, we'll do some originals," concluded Tupp, Freddie exclaimed some sort of inaudible sort of squeal in excitement and gave you a kiss on the temple, "But don't get too used to it," added Tupp, raising his pint and taking a hearty swig.

"We'll see about that," replied Freddie, laughing a little to himself. Everyone followed suit, a little bit lighter now that they had a sense of where they were going.

The four of you spent the rest of your time at the bar chatting away. Enjoying the company of each other and working out more of the details for the gig to come. Once Tupp and Richard had accepted Freddie's idea of adding more original songs, everything seemed to fall into place a little more. Everyone felt confident. Like this truly was the start of something new and good for them. And it was, at least for awhile you knew. 

_______

Hope you all enjoyed the most recent update. It was originally going to be a much longer chapter but I got a little too into parts of it and decided it better to split up my ideas into this one and the next (which I've still got to write). I know within the next month and a half or so I'll eventually be getting that out to you, but unfortunately after that I am going to have to take a brief hiatus until April on this fic. I decided to take another English course at the college because I really wanted to improve my writing more and more—eventually as a scientist I'm going to be doing quite a bit of that! Luckily it's a condensed course and ends mid-April but I've got other courses that go into May so I'll just have to play it by ear come mid-April. I love to write and tend to burnout if I don't set boundaries for myself, so that's the purpose of the hiatus. But before then, definitely another chapter will come out. 

Couldn't come up with a chapter for this title, but Keep Yourself Alive seemed fitting—given the lyrics of the song and the circumstances the boys are in now. 

This chapter goes a little more into the struggle the boys had, but also the fun they had too. In the monologue y/n gives, it's rather obvious what I was getting at. Something I've always felt, and especially in recent months with the release of Bohemian Rhapsody, is that we forget Freddie, Brian, Roger, and John are people just like us. I'd say "they're people too" but I really mean "people like us". When you say "people too" that has the attached notion that they weren't, where as when you say "people like us" that reminds you of where you are as well. The members of Queen aren't effigies to be idolized, they're not out of touch or out of reach. What inspires me most about Queen is that they are people. Just normal people who taught me that anyone has the capacity to achieve whatever they wish to accomplish. It doesn't matter who you are, where you're from, it only matters your willingness to push onward—even if it's not always forward.

Not to add too much of my viewpoint here, but I think that's something the BoRhap movie lacked. It was effect without cause. The meeting of goals without the drive of ambition. Ambition is all the boys have ever been. 

With this chapter I included a little diagram of the Kensington Marketplace that was drawn by Alan Mair himself. Freddie started working for Alan in 1969 and actually spent more time working for Alan than with Roger in the stall they shared. Pat and Sue Johnstone were working right near Alan and were good friends of Freddie and everyone—such good friends, in fact, that they were the founders of the Queen fanclub! (Woo! You go girls! Still going strong even over 40+ years later!). Even though all the units are described as stalls, I should mention, they're a lot like tiny little rooms. They've got plastered walls and everything. If you've seen Roger's posts of it on instagram–bless him—than you get the feel.

The end of this chapter was set up to go more into the next bit, but it just got so long that it's to be continued in the next. This was the night (well actually irl it was one day later) that Wreckage would record that lovely demo tape of Green that's available around online. Next chapter I'll post the link to it. Anyway, thanks for reading! New update...eventually 😂