Freddie and John shared a worried look. They had taken care of Brian the whole day, trying to cheer him up and letting him cry on their shoulders. Boxes of tissue had been emptied so quickly that they were out of them. Freddie decided they would stay at Brian's house for the night, just in case. John cooked delicious green vegetables with potatoes. During the whole dinner on the big table, Brian very slowly ate what was in his plate, turning his back to them. He was staring at Roger's collection of small cars that he had not taken with him. Now, they were drinking some tea, and Brian had absent-mindedly taken his cup from John's hands. He was sipping his tea without caring if it burnt his lips or not. He had never really payed attention to those cars, only when Roger was petting them with a huge smile and cleaning the dust out of them. Now, he knew every detail; he knew exactly were the paint was a bit damaged, what their brand was, what model they were, and he could even measure the size of the wheels with his eyes. He could finally remember which car was which, as Roger used to give them nicknames. Brian whispered them repeatedly, his eyes jumping from one car to the other.

“Oldy, Wheeley, Benty, Twin, Square, Bluesy, Pinky, Chryssi.... Oldy, Wheeley, Benty, Twin, Square, Bluesy, Pinky, Chryssi...”

He remembered that he used to roll his eyes everytime he heard Roger talking to his cars whilst calling them by names. He used to say it was stupid to feel this close to a collection of cars. And Roger always replied “You feel many things when you touch your guitars, and I feel the same thing when I take care of them.” How stupid he was... What if that was one of the things that made him leave? Brian swallowed his saliva. His hazel eyes stopped on something that had fallen. He did not remember what it was. He stretched his arm behind him and placed the cup on the table. Freddie and John stood still, thinking that he would finally say a word or do something. Brian stood up and walked up to the chest of drawers on what used to be Roger's side of the room. He looked at the thing he did not recognise. It was a frame, but he could not see the picture. He picked it up and turned it over. He gasped and blenched as he saw the photograph of he and Roger. The one that Roger stared at two days before, when all this started. When he said they looked happy on it, as if he already felt he was not anymore.

“Maybe I should talk to him for a minute” Freddie whispered to John, low enough that Brian did not hear.

“No, we should leave him alone. Let's finish this tea in the kitchen. It's a picture of Roger and him, I saw it one day.”

Freddie nodded and they silently stood up, with their cups in their hands and walked up to the kitchen. They both sighed, completely exhausted. It was the first time they found each other alone since they arrived. Freddie tapped his fingers on the work surface, on which he noticed a hole, as if someone had stabbed it. He shook his head and emptied his cup.

“Did Roger tell something?”

“Yeah... I asked him if he was sure of what he was doing and he said he was. I couldn't do much. And he admitted that he had nowhere to go, but I felt that he just couldn't stay in the house.”

Where do you think he is, now?”

“I have no idea. He said he would call me when he finds somewhere to go.”

“If you know anything, tell me about it, okay?”

John nodded and looked down, his arms crossed against his chest. He recalled the small conversation they had with Roger when he left Melbury Road. He took a deep breath.

“Are you going to kick him out of the band?”

Freddie was surprised by John's question, though he knew it would be asked anyway.

“I'm not the leader, John, it's not me who takes decisions. It's us. If it only depended on me, I would say no.”

“I don't want either.”

“The problem is Brian. We want him to stay, it's a thing, but Brian's opinion is another. And I don't know if Rog wants to stay.”

“He'd like to. I asked him about the band and he told me that he wouldn't quit if we still wanted him in it.”

Freddie nodded and sighed. The situation was grotesque. Everything happened so suddenly that it surprised everybody at once. He was terribly worried for Brian, but also for Roger. He could be anywhere, maybe he was in the street! He sighed once again and washed John's cup and his along with the plates, knives, forks and glasses. John took a cloth with which he dried them. He put them back in their drawers and on their shelves. Seeing that Freddie was haunted by something, he placed his hands on his shoulders and made him face him. His friend avoided his eyes.

“Freddie, it's alright, okay? Brian will get better, he'll recover from all this, I promise. And we'll find Roger.”

“He could be anywhere, in any state. You know him, he can't control himself when he drinks.”

“D'you think he did?”

“John, it's Roger Taylor, what do you expect?”

They clucked and John hugged Freddie, patting his back.

“We're a team, Fred. It will be alright. We just shouldn't plan rehearsals for a while until everything get better.”

“Yeah, you're right, darling.”

They shared a smile and walked back to the living room. Brian had disappeared. Freddie panicked.

“Shit, where's he? WHERE'S HE? The kitchen door was open, we could see if he moved upstairs or to the loo! For God's sake, where's he?”

“Cool it, Fred” John whispered. “Come'ere.”

Freddie raised his eyebrows and stood beside John, looking down to the floor. Brian was lying on his side, curled up, pressing the photograph against his heart.

“He fell asleep.”

“It seems so. We should move him to his bedroom, he'll catch a cold here.”

John raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, really? Let me give you a friendly reminder: Brian's a fucking giant.”

“Come on! Brian's tall but he's as thin as a drumstick, he shouldn't be that heavy!”

John shrugged and they carefully lied Brian on his back. Freddie gently lifted him up by pulling him with his hands under his armpits. John sneaked under one of his arms and held him tightly. Indeed, Brian was not very heavy. They carried him carefully, trying not to wake him, until they reached the stairs. There, John let Freddie take hold of Brian's armpit and he grabbed his ankle. They managed to bring him safe to his bedroom without hitting his head anywhere. Fortunately, his bedroom door was the first on the left. Freddie opened it with his elbow and they lied Brian on it. They were a bit out of breath. Brian was not heavy, but after carrying such a weight, it could quickly become tiresome. Freddie frowned as he noticed that Brian was still fully dressed.

“Maybe we should remove his clothes, don't you think?”

“WHAT? No. Everything but not that.”

Freddie rolled his eyes.

“Come on, it won't be the first time that you saw him without clothes! Remember that time we wanted to surprise him after a gig by sneaking into his dressing room? You know, when the roadies, the manager and all those people were there. Brian was taking a shower. And Roger broke a glass on the floor by accidentally kicking it with his elbow.”

“I don't.”

“Ah, c'mon! Brian got so scared of the noise that he rushed out of the shower without taking a towel and he found us all there.”

“I still don't.”

“He hid his tool behind the playlist!”

“Oh yeah! Yeah I remember it now!”

John giggled, recalling Brian's face at this moment. Brian moaned in his sleep and he blenched, fearing that he might have woken him. But no.

“Come on, let's free him from his clothes.”

Freddie stepped forwards and carefully removed his socks first. John opened his wardrobe and picked a random t-shirt. He helped Freddie to remove the velvet trousers Brian was wearing. As soon as his long, thin legs felt the fresh air, Brian bent them, getting them closer to him.

“Ah, Brian, can't you help us a bit?” Freddie tenderly chuckled.

They carefully took the framed picture that he was still holding and put it aside. But when they put it away from him, he started to writhe, calling Roger's name. John quickly put it back in his hand, and he immediately calmed down. They managed to remove his sweater and put on the t-shirt instead. After that, Brian curled up on his side, pressing the frame against him. He semmed to feel that his two friends had placed him in the middle of the bed. Still sleeping, he moved back on his side, frowning.

“Must... free... Roger's side... He'll come back... He'll come back...”

And then, he snored. With a joyless smile, Freddie grabbed the sheets and covered his thin body. He hesitated before kissing him good night in his hair. John was pressing Brian's clothes against him, his eyes being filled with tears. Freddie turned to him and relaxed his shoulders. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders and led him out of the room, switching off the light behind them and closing the door. John sniffed and a tear rolled down his cheek. Freddie immediately wiped it away.

“We're going to bed, okay? I'm afraid we'll have to share a bed, but that'll be only for tonight, alright? Come on, you have to be strong too, dear.”

“It isn't about us, but I feel incredibly bad because of that.”

“You feel all the sadness around, it's normal.”

“Have you seen what Bri's just done? How he left Roger's side of bed? And... And...”

“I was there, darling, I saw all that. It makes me sad too, but I try not to show it. There's enough pain in here. Come on, let's go to bed now, mmh?”

John nodded and followed Freddie to the guest room. When they opened the door and switched on the light, their eyes widened. The room was a mess. Chairs and bedside tables had been thrown on the floor, a white dressing gown was spread, somewhere in front of the bed. The sheets were pulled and a pillow was on the floor.

“I'm taking this one” Freddie said, pointing at it.

He walked up to it and put it correctly on the bed. John looked at everything around him.

“Maybe we should tidy all this?”

“We'll do it tomorrow. I'm exhausted.”

John nodded again and started to get undressed, and so did Freddie. John switched off the light and tried not to bump into something in the dark. Freddie was reaching his hand, and John took it so he could sneak in the bed safely. The moon was slightly enlightening the room. They wished each other's good night and fell asleep.

Roger pushed the button of the doorbell like mad. He leant against the red brick wall. The door slithly opened and a young woman wrapped in a pink dressing gown appeared.

“'Ello, ma'am. D'you have a bed for the night?”

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

“Roger Taylor! Who could imagine that? What are you doing here?”

“I think I'm in the street.”

“Why did you come here, precisely? Don't you have this lovely boyfriend of yours?”

“Shhh, shhh. I broke up with him this morning. And I'm homeless now. Listen, I know you're still mad at me 'cause I left you for'im...”

“For God's sake, Roger, you stink! Did you drink or something?”

“I spent the whole day in a bar.”

The girl sighed and rolled her eyes. She widely opened the door, grabbed Roger's arm and pulled him inside before slamming the door.

“You're so nice, Rose. Thank you.”

“My bloody name is Violet, Rog. You never got it right anyway.”

They climbed Violet's stairs and got inside the flat. Roger dropped his suitcase and massaged his hand whilst looking all around.

“Wow. The decoration changed.”

“You haven't come back for more than four years, what did you expect?” she sighed. “D'you want a cup of tea or something?”

“No, thanks. Can I use your phone?”

“Why? Rog, it's 3 a.m.!”

“I need to call a friend.”

Freddie and John jumped as they heard the telephone ringing downstairs.

“Damn, who's this bastard who calls at this hour?” Freddie grumbled.

“I think I know” John said. “Hold on a minute, I'm answering.”

John tried not to bump into something again and ran out of the room. The telephone stopped ringing. If he really was Roger, he knew he would try many times again. Indeed, the telephone rang once again. He ran down the stairs and almost jumped from the staircase to the telephone. He picked it up and pressed it against his ear.

“John Deacon here.”

“Hey, Deaks.”

“Roger, where the fuck are you?”

“I found a bed where I can sleep, there isn't any problem.”

“I guessed that, but where are you?”

“Remember Violet?”

“Yeah?”

“You've got the answer.”

“Rog, for fuck's sake, don't tell me you left Brian for her!”

“No, what are you talking 'bout? I didn't know where to go, and it was the first address that came to my mind. And as you wanted me to call as soon as I find somewhere to go, well...”

“No, you said that, mate. Where's her home? Is it far from here?”

“Why d'you want to know?”

“For rehearsals. Freddie doesn't want to kick you out of the band. But as we're a band, a team, everybody should have his own opinion, mmh? We'll ask Bri later, not now, he's really shook up, you have no idea.”

“Shit...”

“You knew what it would do to him.”

“I know. But I hate knowing that, ya see.”

“I do. Listen, mate, I'm exhausted, I really want to go back to bed, Fred and I are staying here for the night, as you can guess.”

“Yeah, yeah, I see, that's good.”

“Take care, mate.”

“Yeah.”

John did not need to hang up, because Roger immediately did. John sighed and silentely went up the stairs, walked up to the guest room and sneaked into the bed.

“Was it Roger?”

“Yeah. He's at Violet's, the girl he left for Brian.”

“Oh oh, that's not good.”

“I thought he had left Bri for her, but apparently not. He just thought of the address to spend the night. He was wasted.”

“I see. Let's get back to sleep. Good night.”

Freddie lied on his side and immediately fell asleep again, and so did John.