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Chapter Text

Upper East Side, NYC 1978

These kinds of parties never end well , thought Freddie Mercury, as he stumbled along the wall of the apartment. Whose flat is this? 

He slid into a bathroom and locked the door. He was dizzy and unsteady as he braced himself against the sink. How did we get here from Mineshaft? 

Freddie tried to retrace his steps, but his memory was a blank spot. His head pounded. He stood perfectly still, focused on the noises coming from outside the door. They were the sounds of a party ending, which was a relief. Freddie heard a couple of men carrying on an obviously intoxicated conversation, and he heard the unmistakable low buzz of a needle tracking at the end of a record.  Freddie opened the door gently and looked both ways down the corridor, before heading into an open bedroom, to try and locate someone he recognized. Maybe some kind soul would take him back to his hotel. 

Two men and a woman he didn’t know were piled onto a bed, naked, limbs splayed over one another. A settee in the corner of the room sat unused, and Freddie eyed it. A feeling of surrender came over him. Maybe I’ll just have a rest for a few minutes . He thought, settling onto the sofa and curling up as comfortably as he could, despite the fact that his feet dangled over the edge. In their obviously raucous evening, the three on the bed had flung the duvet onto the floor. Freddie picked it up and wrapped it around himself. Before he dozed off to sleep, he had a peculiar tingling feeling all over his body. 

Chapter Text

Upper East Side, NYC 2020

Freddie shifted on the settee, a sharp ache radiating through his back. He opened his eyes to see the bright light of day flooding in through the windows. It took him a few seconds to fully register why he had ended up sleeping on the sofa in someone’s bedroom. But, then it came back to him, along with a splitting hangover headache. His mouth was dry and tasted terrible; he wanted nothing more than to brush his teeth and soak in a scalding hot bath for several hours. He tried to shake off the duvet, which was twisted and damp with sweat. He heard stirring on the bed, and remembered he had accidentally intruded on the detritus of a drunken threesome the night before. 

Freddie heard a yawning sigh from the bed above, and hoped the three would not fancy another sexual interlude in the light of day. In fact, he was keen to get the hell out of there before anyone even noticed him. He had absolutely no idea what had occurred the night before, but he did not want to have to rehash it with anyone. He stood shakily, stretching his back and turning to collect the duvet to drape it over the couch. 

“What the fuck!” a man’s voice exclaimed, followed by the stifled shriek of another man. 

“Stay right where you are, buddy!” yelled the first man.

Freddie froze. His back was to the bed, but he heard scrambling and slowly turned.

“Don’t move!” 

Freddie had turned enough to see two men: one sitting on the bed, eyes wide, and the other standing at the side holding a floor lamp like a baseball bat. 

"Woah, guys, listen, don’t hit me. I took a nap here, but I’m leaving. If one of you will let me use the phone, I’ll get a taxi.”

The men looked at each other and exchanged horrified expressions.

“How did you get in here?” the standing man said, ducking his head to look out the bedroom door. “What do you want?”

Freddie grinned sheepishly. “I mean, you have a party like that, there’s gonna be some people sleeping over - take it from me. Like I said, I just want a phone to call a taxi. Sorry to have scared you.” 

The man on the bed leaned in and then shook his head. “Wait, you look like…” 

Oh god, he’s recognized me, thought Freddie. Now, here comes the tabloid story, just what I need. Freddie Mercury wakes up half naked in an American bedroom with two men. 

“I know. Listen, my memory of last night is a bit...sparse. All I remember is being at Mineshaft, then being here…”

The man on the bed drew in a sharp intake of breath. “Mineshaft? As in…”

“Oh darling, we were all there. At least...” Freddie drew his hand up to rub his temple. “Well god, maybe you weren’t. Anyway, we started there. And ended up here. It’s all a blur.” Freddie threw his hands up in defeat, sincerely hoping someone would loan him the telephone so that this painful conversation could end.

The man in the bed chuckled and the man standing shot him a horrified look.

“What could possibly be funny?” he said. 

The man on the bed shifted a little. “What is the address of Mineshaft again?” 

Freddie closed his eyes and sighed. Whatever game they were playing was exhausting and increasing the throb of his headache. But, he didn’t want to be beaten this morning, so he played along. 

“Don’t know the number, but Washington between 12th and 13th.” Freddie crossed his arms over his chest, wishing he had on more clothing. 

“Holy fuck," said the man on the bed, sliding back against the headboard. He grabbed something off the nightstand and began to touch the object frantically. 

“I knew it!” he read. “Mineshaft was a members-only BDSM gay leather bar and sex club located at 835 Washington Street, at Little West 12th Street, in Manhattan, New York City, in the Meatpacking District. Opened October 8, 1976. Closed November 7, 1985!” 

Freddie furrowed his eyebrows. BDSM? 1985?

“So, what are you saying, Sergio?” The standing man had loosened his grip on the lamp (to Freddie’s delight). “That this guy is a fucking nutcase? Yeah, no shit.” 

Sergio looked up, a wild grin in his eyes. “So, what’s your name?”

Freddie motioned to himself. Oh god, here we go. “Oh, darling, I’m sure you know.” 

“Say it.”

“What is going on!” asked the other man. “Do you know him!?”

Sergio shushed him. “Just wait, Ace."

Freddie sighed. “I’m Freddie Mercury.” 

Sergio squealed in delight.

Ace scoffed. “Freddie Mercury, from Queen? With the moustache?”

Sergio was once again frantically touching his little gadget, before showing it to Ace. Freddie couldn’t see what they saw, but he watched them intently.  

“No, he didn’t have a moustache until the 1980s. See…”

Ace looked from the gadget back to Freddie, then back to the gadget. 

“Well, yeah he does look like him. So, is he some kind of impersonator? The point remains: why is he in our apartment?”

Freddie thought he was quite possibly dealing with two lunatics and wondered how he could escape without being throttled. Moustache? He thought, touching his upper lip. He did need a shave but it was nowhere near a moustache yet. He shifted uncomfortably, while the two men talked back and forth.

“Let me.” Sergio said, nodding at Ace.

Sergio looked Freddie up and down. “Ok, Freddie…” He began, sounding amused. “So, if it’s really you, then how do you explain being here, with us, in 2020.”

“Like I said,” Freddie sighed. “After the party, I just dozed off here, in your room. So sorry, lads. I will be off now. No harm done.” He turned to the door. Then he spun on his heel. “2020? What does that mean?”

Sergio and Ace looked sideways at each other. 

“The year. Two thousand twenty.”  Sergio said. “I mean, I do appreciate your authenticity in this whole...role play. Sincerely, I’m a huge fan of Freddie, too, but what’s your explanation of being in the year 2020 all of a sudden? Just curious.” 

Ace scoffed, and said to Sergio: “I don’t give a rat’s ass about authenticity . There’s a man in our bedroom! Role play or not, this is insane ! Stop placating him. Call the fucking police.” 

Freddie’s eyes widened. “No, no, no need for that. Listen, I am mortified to be here like this. Truly, I can compensate you for any distress I’ve caused. If I had my checkbook, I would do it right now, but at the moment, I’m a bit underdressed.” His hands were gesticulating wildly. “How about this: if I give you the number, you can call…”

Sergio suddenly got up from the bed and walked closer to Freddie.

“What are you doing!” Ace yelled, as Sergio walked right up to Freddie.

Freddie stood still, unsure just what exactly had led him to this bizarre situation. While he had at first been alarmed, he was getting more perturbed by the second. 

“Uncanny. Even the teeth…” Sergio said, eyeing Freddie’s mouth.

Freddie covered his teeth with his top lip as a surge of embarrassment flooded through his body. Now they’re making fun of me, on top of everything? 

“Look, I don’t appreciate this. I have told you what I’m willing to do, and I think it’s more than fair.”

“Sing something,” Sergio replied, staring at Freddie.

“I’m not a bloody puppet. Buy a concert ticket if you want to hear me sing.” Freddie shot back. 

Sergio broke into a huge grin and turned to Ace, whose mouth was agape. 

Sergio reached back to the nightstand and grabbed the gadget he had been messing with earlier. He stared at it, moving his fingers wildly. 

“I’ve paid my dues. Time after time.” The unmistakable opening of We Are the Champions floated into the room, from the tiny device.

Freddie snapped back dramatically. “Where is that coming from?” 

Sergio stepped closer and showed Freddie the screen of the device he held. 

Freddie’s mouth dropped as he saw the video of the song on the tiny screen. He watched, mesmerized. 

“Dear god.” He said quietly. He could not keep his eyes from the screen until the song finished. 

Then Sergio took the device away and Freddie looked on, in curiosity.

“That’s one piece of technology. How does it…?” Freddie didn't know where to begin. 

Did I drop acid last night? He thought, suddenly. Is this some kind of a trip? As a rule, he stayed away from psychedelics. But, god only knew what had happened the night before. He closed his eyes tightly and shook his head. This didn’t feel like any trip he’d ever had. Then, he remembered what Sergio had said about 2020. 

“Forty-two years later…?” Freddie mumbled. 

Sergio heard him and gasped. “So you’re coming from 1978?” 

Ace shouted from behind them. “Seriously, we’re going with: Freddie Mercury time traveled from 1978 instead of the obvious, that some nutjob broke into our apartment and is about to murder us while we play him some music?!” 

Sergio turned and shushed Ace. “Oh stop. Even if he were mentally unwell, you could be a little more sensitive!” 

“Oh yeah, I forgot, I have to be kind to the crazies who break into my home!” Ace said, sarcastically. 

Freddie laughed at their banter, in spite of himself. It seemed to to be all he could do at that point.  “What happened to the girl who was here last night?” 

Ace and Sergio exchanged surprised glances. “Girl?” 

“You know, that woman with the…” Freddie rounded two hands and brought them to his chest to indicate ample breasts. 

Sergio laughed. “We’re gold star gays. Not likely to find a woman in this bed…” 

Freddie looked more confused than ever. The day kept getting more and more odd. And his headache was not abating, either. 

“You stay right here!” Ace said suddenly. He slipped out the bedroom door. Freddie and Sergio heard him hurrying through the apartment, banging open doors, obviously checking to see if anyone else was there.

“Is he always this paranoid?” Freddie asked, hoping that Sergio would be a voice of reason.

“Well, I mean this is really strange, you have to admit. You claim to be Freddie Mercury, who… well, you know.” He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. “And you came from 1978? I mean come on, man. I have to admit, you do look exactly like him. But, you can’t blame Ace for being weird.” He leaned in. “Between you and me, how did you get in here?” 

Freddie ran his hands through his hair, exasperated. “I followed the crowd back to your flat. We drank entirely too much--god knows what else we did.”

“It’s the year 2020, Freddie.” Sergio said. “Let me start there. We are in Manhattan’s Upper East Side, in an apartment that belongs to my husband and me.” 

Freddie tilted his head at the use of the word husband. He didn’t recall if he’d ever heard a man call another man his husband so openly, especially to a stranger.

“We woke up this morning to find a strange man lying in our room, claiming to be a rock star who consequently has been…” He seemed to stumble over the words, and didn’t finish his thought. 

“Anyway, the other strange part about this, besides the fact that you seemingly traveled forty-two years in a single night, is that currently New York City, and much of the world, is under lock down. If you are from 1978, this is going to sound straight out of a science fiction novel. But there’s a global virus that has been...killing people. So, the governments have told us we can’t go anywhere unless it is absolutely necessary. We order our food and our groceries to be delivered, and we work from home. It’s been going on a few months now, with no end in sight. We haven’t even had people over for half a year.”

Freddie sat down hard on the sofa behind him, clutching his head in his hands, overwhelmed. Global virus. Lock down. What did those assholes slip into my drink last night? 

At that moment, Ace came back into the room, breathing heavily from his exertion of scouring the apartment. “No one else is here,” he said. “He couldn’t have gotten past...”

Sergio interrupted his husband. “Ace, I think it’s time you formally meet Mr. Freddie Mercury.” 

Chapter Text

After a few more moments of conversation, Ace was convinced that his husband was far too kind in indulging the whims of a delusional man who had inexplicably found his way into their home. And Sergio was convinced that a world famous and long dead rock star had time traveled into their apartment from the late 70s. Ace had at least conceded that the thin, well-mannered man did not pose much physical threat. He seemed docile enough that Ace could let his guard down a little. The three made their way into the kitchen together.

Freddie watched Sergio float around the lovely bright kitchen with ease. He was a handsome man, probably of some Latin descent, judging by his name and his soft looking caramel skin. He had kind eyes and a warm smile. Ace was rougher around the edges. He was taller, on the chubbier side, with a short beard and plastic frame glasses, but also quite handsome, in a totally different way. And they called each other husband. How darling. As Freddie contemplated, he noticed rings on both their hands. 

Curious, Freddie spoke up. “I noticed your rings….”

Sergio brought Freddie a mug of steaming coffee. “These are organic fair trade beans, by the way. I have oat milk, almond milk, and coconut milk. Ace insists on keeping dairy products,” he rolled his eyes. “So, we have half and half too.”

Freddie frowned. “I’m not sure what you just said, but no need to fuss over me. I take good old-fashioned milk, darling.” 

Sergio brought a paper carton out of the fridge and plopped it on the counter. “And we have Agave, Stevia, and Sugar in the Raw.” Then he paused and laughed. “Oh, gosh, I forgot... 1978.” He giggled and reached up into the cupboard where he found a carton of white granulated sugar. He peeked inside, shook it, and then held it out. “Or just sugar?” 

Freddie made a shrug gesture with his hands. “That will be fine, thank you. Wow, so in four decades, coffee has become a complex adventure, indeed.” 

Freddie was not exactly sure how he felt about being in “the future”. He honestly related it to an extraordinarily strong dose of some hallucinogen. But, for now, he was “going with the flow”, as Deaky always said. 

He cleared his throat. “I noticed your rings. Lovely. What significance do they have?” He took a spoonful of the clumped sugar and hesitantly added it to his mug. 

Sergio spun around, and Ace, who was sitting on the stool beside Freddie, spoke up. 

“Oh you know, the whole ‘marriage is an eternal circle ’ type thing. Right, Serg?” Ace said distractedly. He was messing with his own version of that nifty little gadget Sergio had, which Freddie was quite curious about, and made a mental note to investigate later. 

Sergio slapped a hand to his cheek. “Oh, my god. If it’s 1978 where you’re from… Awww!” Sergio walked over and put both hands on the countertop “Ace, gay marriage wasn’t legal in ‘78!” 

“Yeah, I know. We couldn’t get married till a few years ago.” Ace said, still looking down. 

Freddie looked back and forth between them. “You two are legally married?”

Sergio smiled. “Yes, Freddie. The United States legalized same sex marriage in 2015!” 

Freddie’s head spun. It suddenly came into focus that his trip was either extremely specific or something altogether outer worldly was happening. The idea of two men being legally married was almost as difficult to believe as time travel itself. 

“That’s wonderful,” Freddie breathed. “For you two. Congratulations.”

Sergio smiled at Freddie. “Thank you. This makes me sentimental.” He said, resting his head on his hands.

Freddie smiled warily, tipping the paper carton of so-called cream into his coffee. “Oh yes? How so?”

“Well, think about it. You never got to see gay rights fully realized, in your time. You weren’t even fully able to come out, because of all the bigotry and misinformation."

Freddie stirred his coffee and ventured a sip. Not bad. Surprisingly, quite tasty. But this conversation is getting a touch too personal. 

“Oh dear, let’s not talk about all that. It’s a dreadful bore. Tell me something fantastic. Like, what is that wonderful… thing you’re both playing with all the time? Where you showed me my song…”

Sergio looked on pensively, before sighing. “Oh gosh, that’s not my wheelhouse. Ask Ace.” He huffed and turned around.

“Huh?” Ace said, looking up for the first time in a while. “Hey Serg, how about those croissants?”

Sergio gathered three small plates from the cupboard. He opened a paper box on the counter and carefully removed three fluffy croissants. He handed a plate to Freddie, whose stomach rumbled at the sight. He had forgotten just how hungry he was. Once they’d all been served, Freddie allowed himself a bite of the fluffy, multigrain bread. He was careful not to scarf it down, although it was delicious. Ace didn’t seem to care and devoured his in two bites. 

“Ace, tell Freddie about the iPhone.” Sergio said, still nibbling.

Ace shrugged. “What about it?”

“Honey, he doesn’t even know what a cell phone is! Remember when you had that clunky Nokia? He doesn’t even know about those!”

“ Eye phone?” Freddie asked, washing down his breakfast with the last of his coffee.

Ace let out a breath. “Well, this is Apple’s version of a smart phone. They came out with it in the early 2000s, when the interface was just…”

“Ace!” Sergio interrupted. “First of all, I don’t even know what you’re talking about. Second, this guy was probably talking on a rotary phone last night.”

“Well, what do you want me to say?"

“Just show him,” Sergio replied, collecting their plates.

Ace scoffed and leaned over next to Freddie. He eyed Freddie with apprehension, before showing him the device he’d been touching all morning.

To Freddie, it looked like a miniature rectangular television. There was no other way to explain it. Yet, it was so thin. And the picture was a million times better than any television set Freddie had ever seen. Ace touched the screen and it responded—quickly. It was like a futuristic remote control.

Ace was talking a mile a minute, telling Freddie about “features” and “pixels” and god knows what all. Nothing made a bit of sense.

“Babe, show him a video,” Sergio responded, to the rescue.

“Like what?” Ace responded.

Sergio rolled his eyes. “One of his.” Then he added quickly. “Except, nothing post-1978. You’ve seen The Butterfly Effect. Let’s not go there!”

While Freddie looked on, bewildered, Ace’s thumbs tapped rhythmically on the shiny screen.

Before long, Freddie caught the first few notes of “Don’t Stop Me Now” and leaned over, and gasped when he saw himself on the screen. He nearly toppled the stool standing up.

Sergio ran over and looked over Ace’s shoulder at the video.

Freddie’s eyes were as wide as saucers as he watched the screen, his mouth falling open. “We’ve only just recorded this song. We haven’t even done a filmed performance yet!” 

Sergio smacked Ace on the arm. “What the hell!  You’re supposed to check the dates. Good job!”

Ace jerked his phone away and scoffed. “Well, then, don’t ask me to show him anything. You’re in charge of our time traveler guest from now on. I’m going to take a shower.”

Ace stormed off, leaving Sergio and Freddie in the kitchen. Freddie’s mouth hung open and his brow furrowed into a perplexed expression. If they have videos of things we’ve only talked about and technology we’ve never dreamed of, maybe this isn’t a hallucination after all.

“I’m sorry about him, Freddie. He’s not usually like this.” Sergio said, sitting on the stool beside him. He looked intently at Freddie’s face. His eyes searched, unabashedly staring, seeming to analyze his every pore.

Freddie shifted uncomfortably. 

“I’m sorry,” Sergio said, looking away. “It’s just… you’re really sitting there. I feel like I should ask for your autograph.” 

Freddie forced a smile. Despite his stage presence, and his innate ability to connect to fans, he was an incredibly private person. 

“I’d be happy to…” Freddie said, awkwardly, not sure if Sergio was serious about the autograph. Then, he thought he may as well be straightforward with this man, considering he had no idea how or when he would return to normalcy. “Could I bother you to take a bath? I feel dreadfully grimy, and not quite like myself.”

Sergio hopped up. “Oh of course! Gosh, I’m sorry for not offering sooner.” He motioned Freddie to follow him. “Right through here. I’ll grab you some towels.” Then he turned and looked Freddie up and down.. “But, you’re going to need a fresh set of clothes.” He bit his lip. “I know you’d swim in Ace’s clothes. You could try mine… I’ll be right back!” 

In a flash, Sergio was back, carrying two fluffy towels, which he placed on the closed toilet seat. He also had some jeans, which Freddie eyed warily. The idea of wearing another man’s jeans was not exactly an appealing idea, but he truly had no other options.   And, at least Sergio was of a similar slim build as Freddie. 

Sergio left the jeans and a t-shirt on the ledge of the sink, before pointing toward the shower. “Just twist that knob to the left, and then of course you can adjust the temperature. This is our guest bathroom, so there’s body wash and shampoo; help yourself!” He clapped his hands together. “Yell if you need me!” Then he closed the door behind him as he left

Freddie was instantly exhausted. It was hard enough acclimating to this bizarre and outlandish experience, not to mention sharing such close quarters with two total strangers. Sergio was nice enough, and he clearly meant well. He also seemed to be Freddie’s ally in the house, at least at present. Freddie peeled off his shorts and turned on the water, which came out in a forceful blast. What wonderful water pressure. You can never get this type of water pressure in England. Freddie thought, absentmindedly. But, of course, this is two-thousand-twenty. Of all the things to be impressed with. Water pressure. After seeing that impossible gadget… 

Freddie’s thoughts were silenced when he stepped into the steamy spray. How divine it felt against his body, and he stood for several minutes just allowing the water to massage him.  Once the bathroom felt very much like a sauna, he scrubbed himself down and rinsed off. Although he could have stood there a lot longer, comforted almost to the point of forgetting his circumstances, Freddie did not want to be rude in his consumption of his hosts’ resources. 

As he dried himself, Freddie remembered he was due to catch a flight back to London that same afternoon. Well, his ticket said September 3, 1978. He supposed it was long expired, wherever it was.  Is there a past version of me ready to board a plane back to England, while I stand here about to try on another man’s trousers? 

There was a small knock on the door. 

“Sorry, Freddie, I just realized something...”

Freddie wrapped a towel around his waist and cracked open the door. 

“I just got these. They haven’t been opened.” Sergio slid a plastic package through the crack in the door. “They’re all yours.” 

After thanking Sergio and closing the door once again, Freddie inspected the rectangular plastic package. Underwear. A three pack of Calvin Klein boxer briefs to be exact. They fit well, and Freddie began to feel a bit more like himself. That is, until he tried the jeans. Thank god Roger can’t see me now. 

A minute later, he heard another knock on the door. It was Sergio again, with an apologetic look on his face.

“I know you think I’m just hovering like a mother hen, but I forgot to tell you there are new toothbrushes in the drawer. Feel free to use one. We keep extras for our guests...” he sighed “Well, when people were allowed to come over.” 

Freddie was touched by Sergio’s attentiveness. He seemed very keen to make sure Freddie was comfortable in such an unfamiliar situation.

“I really do appreciate this. I would be lost without your kindness. Truly, you’ve just been marvelous.” 

Sergio grinned and bowed his head modestly. “Well, it isn’t everyday you share your home with a famous rock star.” He giggled. “Okay, I’ll leave you alone!” 

Freddie found a brand new toothbrush and some very minty toothpaste in the drawer, and he brushed his teeth twice in a row. Almost good as new. Now, about this hair of mine. 

When he finally emerged from the bathroom, Freddie took the liberty of walking into the living space. Theirs was a lovely apartment, no doubt quite expensive, and decorated very tastefully, yet minimalistically. He saw a record player and smiled. At least that’s something I recognize. He bent to inspect the record collection, and gasped when he saw one of his favorite Jimi Hendrix albums. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands. 

“Great album.” Freddie heard from behind him.

He turned to see Ace standing a few feet away. 

“His music changed my life.” Freddie said quietly, carefully setting the record back down.

Ace did not respond, but instead, he opened the turntable, picked up the record and fitted it onto the spindle. He grabbed a small remote control, held it upright, and pressed a button. Then, he clicked another button on the turntable. Freddie watched the needle rise and lower to make contact with the vinyl. He heard the familiar crackling sound as the stylus made contact, but his ears perked up, because the sound was amplified. Then, as if by magic, the room filled with the iconic fade-in of the F-note, followed by guitar. The music was all around him, and Freddie turned in awe as he heard the opening lines of “Foxey Lady”. 

This sound was unlike anything Freddie had ever experienced. All the hairs on his body stood on end. He closed his eyes and felt the vibrations of the music, as if he were standing onstage, just feet away from Hendrix himself. 

When the song was over, Ace pointed the remote and the music faded. Freddie’s body buzzed, and his skin tingled.

“This is the UK release,” said Ace, reading the back of the album sleeve. “In the US, this album starts with ‘Purple Haze’.”

Freddie was barely listening. He wanted more. He started to speak, then cleared his throat. 

“What...what kind of sound system do you use?” 

Ace showed Freddie their speakers: one slim central unit he called a “soundbar” and a couple other smaller speaker units, plus a “subwoofer”. Freddie thought he knew about sound systems, but that was in his time period. This was a whole new ballgame. 

“And it connects to your turntable?” 

“Oh, that’s all Bluetooth. I know there’s more audio integrity with an RCA cable and a receiver, but Serg bought this one, and he’s all about the convenience. It actually holds its own, though. And the TV is also connected to this system, so it works for us.” Ace shrugged, and stopped the record. 

Not understanding the specifications at all, Freddie exclaimed. “This is brilliant! Can you play something else?” He could not stop himself from grinning widely, with no thought of hiding his teeth as he normally would.

Ace smirked, the closest Freddie had seen to a smile from him since they’d met. 

“Well, take your pick.” 

Freddie bent over and flipped through the sizable collection of records, finding many artists he didn’t recognize. Then, he caught sight of a Queen album, which made him giddy. He could not wait to hear their music from such powerful speakers. Upon looking closer, however, he did not recognize the title. Confused, he touched the spine of the album, and began to pull it out to inspect it closer. Before he could, though, he heard a scream that stopped him dead in his tracks.

Chapter Text

“No!” 

Startled, Freddie whirled around. 

Sergio had his hands clasped on his head and a panicked expression on his face.

“Well, I guess these trousers look even worse from the back.” Freddie joked, touching his bottom. 

Ace erupted into an unexpected chuckle, and Sergio visibly deflated.

“I don’t want to be that guy ” Sergio began. “It’s just--if we show you things that haven’t happened yet in your time--in 1978--then how do we know it won’t change the entire course of human civilization?” 

Freddie snapped his fingers in recognition. “You know, I read a story like that once. Well, I didn’t read it myself . Brain told me about it. Some people go back in time to hunt dinosaurs or some such nonsense. And one of the lads steps on a butterfly…”

Sergio nodded fervently. “Yes, yes, it’s Ray Bradbury! That’s exactly what I’m saying! Someone steps on a butterfly in the time of the dinosaurs, and it fucks everything up in the future. Just that one little thing.” 

Ace shook his head. “So, this one fictional story is the user’s manual for time travel?” 

They stood in silence for a few seconds. 

“The only way to know for sure is to risk fucking everything up , like he said.” Freddie finally responded, shrugging. 

Sergio looked pleased that Freddie seemed to side with him. He nodded curtly at Ace, who rolled his eyes in response. 

Freddie was not entirely convinced. Even just him being there was undoubtedly causing major ripples in the universe. Unless, of course, the men were playing some sort of practical joke on him. But, unless they were the best actors on the planet, and had access to some phenomenal special effects, that theory was implausible at best. 

 And yet, Freddie desperately wanted to know what Queen album he’d been prevented from seeing. What year was it made? What was the title? What kinds of songs did we write then, in the future… or was it in the past? Lord, what a mess. 

Sergio seemed to have the exact same thought, because he darted over to the cabinet and began sifting through the records. 

“So, you’re just  going to hide everything from him?” Ace asked. 

“Just anything that relates to him directly.” Sergio replied. “Luckily, I only have a couple of Queen records.” He looked sheepishly at Freddie. “Sorry. I really love your music, but I’ve only just started collecting vinyl. I had all your CDs though!” He stopped himself. “Nevermind, I’ll tell you about CDs later.”

Freddie sighed. He couldn't argue, and he couldn’t very well pry the record out of the other man’s hands. But, his curiosity was at a fever pitch. 

Ace plopped down on the couch. “Don’t you see. It’s never going to work. Let’s say Britney Spears comes on the radio. Next thing you know, he’ll write ‘Baby One More Time’ on the next Queen album.” 

Sergio tutted. “Hush.” He waved his hand at his husband. “You know exactly why I’m acting like this.” He glared pointedly at Ace. 

Ace’s countenance visibly dimmed and he nodded, ever so slightly. 

Freddie wondered what they meant. But, he had grown accustomed to getting lost in all their references. He yawned and joined Ace on the couch. How long can this go on? Maybe it’s a 24 hour thing. Tomorrow, I’ll be back to business. Unless, I’m already back to business, in some split reality. If anyone could help me now, it would be Brian--with his A-levels in maths and physics . 

Ace sat bent over his gadget, tapping rhythmically, the glow from its screen reflected in his glasses. Sergio had collected the albums he wished to hide from Freddie. He scurried away, trying desperately to conceal them against his chest. 

Freddie lay back and closed his eyes. He imagined himself arriving at the studio with the other members of Queen, and felt a pang of sadness. They often argued like brothers, but they loved each other like brothers, too, and he missed them terribly. Though it had not actually been forty-two years since he’d seen them, Freddie had oddly begun to see it that way.

They’ll be old men now. Then, he opened his eyes as he did a bit of mental addition. If it’s 2020, I’ll be 74 in two days. Christ, that’s older than my father. Just about to turn thirty-two, Freddie rarely thought of growing older, at least not seriously. He shuddered at the thought of encountering himself as an old man. Maybe that’s what they’re hiding from me: a photo of myself all grey and wrinkled, flailing about onstage. He giggled to himself at the vision. Yet, the thought of staying with Queen that long also filled him with a swell of emotion. As long as my voice holds out, I’ll keep singing. 

In his reverie, Freddie had not noticed that he’d been left alone on the sofa. He stood and stretched, walking barefoot through the room  to inspect it anew. He had not noticed many house-plants inhabited the space. And he certainly had not noticed a cat bed in the corner. Freddie couldn’t contain the squeal that erupted from his lips. He adored cats. “Here kitty,” he called in a high pitched tone. “Pspspsps, kitty kitty!” 

Freddie rounded the corner just in time to see the door to the apartment swing open. He stood face to face with a petite woman holding paper bags and wearing what looked like a surgical mask. 

Chapter Text

“Oh, hi!” The woman said. “I didn’t know the boys had a guest!” Her eyes crinkled into what Freddie imagined must be a smile underneath the mask. 

“I’m Amy, Jason’s sister!” She said, making her way into the apartment and shutting the door behind her. 

“Jason?” Freddie asked, confused.

Amy made her way towards the kitchen, where she deposited the bags on the counter. 

“Oh,” she laughed. “Yeah, sorry, Ace . I never thought my speech impediment as a four-year old would lead to a lifelong nickname—which ironically, everyone calls him but me!” She started to remove her mask, then paused. “I assume you wouldn't be here if you had Covid?” 

Freddie raised his eyebrows and he hesitantly shook his head. Whatever Covid was, he definitely didn’t think he had it. 

Amy tossed her mask into her purse, which she hung over a barstool. She started to unload the paper bags, which contained take-away containers. The aroma of their contents wafted through the kitchen, making Freddie instantly hungry. 

Before Freddie could even introduce himself, while he was still grappling with each moment slightly more confusing than the last, Sergio rounded the corner.

“Ames!” He shouted, surprised. “Oh it’s Sunday!” 

Amy tossed her hands in the air. “Did you forget?” She blew him an air kiss. “You look great! I brought food from the curry place down the block. I saw a documentary last night and I got this craving, and I remembered that amazing place so close to you.”

It was easy to see that Amy had a big personality in a small body. 

“So, who’s your handsome friend?” Amy said, smiling over her shoulder at Freddie, as she opened boxes and containers. 

Grinning, Freddie spoke up. “I’m Freddie. Very lovely to meet you, Amy.” 

“And he’s British. How fun!” Amy said, making herself at home, opening cupboards and pulling out bowls and plates. “So, what brings you here, Freddie?”

Sergio caught Freddie’s attention while Amy helped herself to the contents of the refrigerator. He tried to signal something to Freddie, which Freddie could not quite interpret. He shrugged and mouthed what . They attempted a silent conversation through facial expressions. 

Amy turned and saw them. “Uh, did I interrupt something?” She asked, bluntly. “Look, I’d say we could do this another day, but I’m fucking starving.” She put her hand on her hip. 

Freddie liked Amy more and more by the minute.

Freddie contemplated how to respond to her question. Why am I in New York? Why am I in this flat? Why am I in the year 2020?  Before he could formulate a response, Ace walked in.

“I knew I heard your voice.” Ace said, a grin on his face. It was the first time Freddie had seen him with a genuine smile. It changed his whole countenance. Ace walked right up to Amy and gave her a full bear hug, lifting the little woman off the floor. She squealed and hit him playfully. Freddie heard him say softly to his sister, almost too low for anyone else to notice: “It’s so good to see you.” 

Amy beamed. “Wow, I don’t usually get this type of response.” She said happily. “Now, please, let’s eat. Freddie, are you joining us? I got plenty.” She gestured her hands over the take-out feast she’d assembled on the countertop. Without waiting, she grabbed a plate and began to spoon some rice on it. “I’m not waiting.”

They settled in to eat the delicious Indian food, which reminded Freddie of some of the dishes his mother used to make when he was a child. 

“So, how do you know these two?” Amy asked Freddie, in between bites of naan. 

Freddie drank from a can of flavored fizzy water he’d been offered. He chose not to look over, although he felt Sergio’s eyes staring his way. 

“Oh, we have mutual friends.” Freddie said. Then, changing the subject, he added cheerfully. “Amy, your dress is divine.” 

Amy brightened. “You know, my friend designed it! I’ll have to give you her card. She makes wonderful custom items.”

“I studied design at university,” Freddie offered. “I haven’t used it one bit.” He laughed.

“Oh god, I hear you. I majored in international relations. More like international sexual relations--just an excuse to sleep with all the exchange students.” 

She and Freddie burst into laughter. Ace raised his eyebrows and shook his head. 

They continued their conversation, laughing and joking together. Ace didn’t talk much, and Sergio sat looking petrified. Don’t worry, Freddie thought. I’m not keen to tell this lovely girl that I’m a time traveling rock singer and scare her to death.

“Why haven’t I met you before?” Amy said, putting her hand on Freddie’s. “Oh shit, I always forget not to touch people. I’m such a touchy-feely person. It’s so weird, isn’t it: this whole social distance thing. I hope you don’t think I’m too lax about it. This is honestly the only place I go besides my house…”

Oh! The global pandemic! The words that Sergio had told him earlier that morning came back to him in a flash. That’s what she’s talking about. And the mask is part of that, too. 

Freddie smiled. “I guess I just haven’t been lucky enough to be here for Sunday lunch before now.  I’ll have to hang around on Sunday afternoons more often.” He said, pursing his lips playfully. 

Amy smiled warmly. “You seem so familiar to me,” Amy said. “I swear, I’ve seen you somewhere before. Even your voice seems familiar to me, somehow.” 

Sergio jumped up. “Let me clean this up! Is that the time?” He looked over, doing a bad job at acting shocked to see the clock. 

“Are you trying to hurry me out of here, Serg?” Amy said, settling back. She seemed amused, and unprepared to leave anytime soon.

Sergio scoffed. “No way, Ames.” He slinked back to his chair. “You know we love having you here.” 

Ace didn’t say much during lunch, but he seemed to bristle every time Sergio spoke. Freddie knew he wasn’t the only one who sensed their tension. He saw Amy eying them as well. And, as blunt as she seemed to Freddie, Amy didn’t seem eager to pry into her brother’s marriage.

“My birthday is in two days.” Freddie said. He hadn’t intended to tell them, but he sincerely hoped to break the awkward silence that had settled on them.

Amy clapped her hands together. “Happy early birthday! I love birthdays. So, you’re a Virgo?” She feigned a look of horror. “Just kidding. I wish we could throw you a party. But, we can sing, anyway!” 

She started to belt out the birthday song, and motioned for everyone to join, including Freddie. When he began to sing along, Amy stopped singing and stared at him. Sergio and Ace stopped, too. Freddie continued for a couple beats, then stopped. Amy’s eyes were wide, and her mouth was agape.

“Your voice.” She said, leaning forward. 

Sergio let out a small gasp.

“Oh god,” Ace sighed. “Here we go.”

“I know I’ve heard your voice before. Are you a singer?”

Freddie nodded, smiling shyly. “Yes, in fact I am.” 

“Well, your voice is absolutely gorgeous. Do you mind singing something else?”

Freddie glanced over. Sergio looked as though he were in physical pain, shaking his head and grimacing. Ace sat in silence, his head in his hands. 

“Another party’s over, and I’m left cold sober. My baby left me for somebody new.” Freddie did not even think about what he was doing. He launched into My Melancholy Blues. 

Amy brought her hand to her lips. “Holy shit.” She said, raising her other arm to show the others the goosebumps on her skin. 

Freddie smiled, then brought his top lip down over his teeth. 

That gesture alone must have sealed it for Amy. She leaned forward and then furrowed her brow, hand still on her lips. “You’re Freddie…” 

Amy did not have a chance to finish her thought before her eyes rolled back and she fainted. 

Chapter Text

The three men simultaneously rushed over to Amy. Her eyes fluttered open almost immediately, and they widened just as quickly.  She exclaimed: “Freddie Mercury!” 

“Careful darling, don’t pass out again.” Freddie said, holding her arm. 

Ace insisted on helping his sister over to the couch. All the while, she could not keep her eyes off of Freddie. 

“You are Freddie fucking Mercury.” She said. 

Unlike Sergio and Ace, Amy seemed to have no trouble believing Freddie was standing in the apartment. She took a deep breath, then laughed shakily.

“Oh my god. You’re…” Tears came to her eyes. “You’re really him. I would ask how but who fucking cares. It’s such an honor to meet you.” 

Freddie nodded and shrugged. “Thanks.” He hoped his decision to  ‘reveal’ himself to her wasn’t the wrong one. Although he’d only just met her, (only just met all of them really), he felt a kinship with her that he couldn’t define just yet. 

Amy stood up and paced around the floor. “I quit smoking, but dammit I would kill for a cigarette right now.” She looked at Freddie. “Do you happen to have one?”

Freddie shook his head. “Honey, I got here with just the clothes on my back.” He looked down. “Well, not these. These are his.” He pointed to Sergio. 

“Wait here.” Ace said, and went over to the refrigerator and reached around on top, before pulling out a pack of cigarettes. 

“Ace!” Sergio chastised. “What the hell!” 

“They’re not mine . Someone left them after a party. I threw them up here, just in case.”

He brought the pack over and handed it to Amy, who opened it and put a cigarette to her lips.

“At least go outside.” Sergio huffed. “If you’re going to poison your body.” 

Freddie hadn’t noticed the balcony, just as he hadn’t noticed the cat bed. It was right in front of them, obscured by long, floor length curtains. Just then, a memory came to him: a vision of the night before,  back in 1978. He recalled the same room, set up differently of course, with the balcony doors wide open. People had come in and out all night. I truly am in the exact same apartment, four decades later. 

“May I join you?” Freddie asked, and Amy nodded absently, sliding open the door. 

They settled into chairs on the patio balcony. Amy lit her cigarette and inhaled deeply. She looked at Freddie and offered him the pack. 

“How long have you...been here?” She asked, her eyes scanning his face.

“Just since this morning.” 

Amy nodded. “And how do you feel? ” 

Freddie was touched by the question. The response wasn’t straightforward, though he mostly felt bewildered. He told her as much. Freddie found himself admitting how scared he was that this situation was permanent, that he may never see his friends or family again. He didn’t bother with the details of time travel, because remarkably, it wasn’t the point. The reality was less glamorous: he was a man far from anything he knew, and vulnerable. I’m naked and I’m far from home. 

Amy listened intently, finishing her cigarette and reaching for another. “God, I shouldn’t, but...if there was ever a time to smoke, it’s now. Want another?” 

Freddie shook his head, and looked out over the terrace, to the view of a neighboring building.The street noise below was much less than he’d expected, from their altitude.

Amy turned to Freddie and sighed. “I’d love to show you around the city, but…” She explained the pandemic, telling him how everything had closed and people were relegated to their homes, and only necessary outings. She explained that even coming to see her brother and Sergio was technically frowned upon. “None of the fun things are open anymore, Freddie. You really couldn’t have come at a worse  time.” She laughed. “Listen to me, talking to you like you’re a tourist.” 

I want to wake up back where I belong. Like this was some crazy nightmare. But, if I do, then what happens to the me that is sitting here right now, sharing a conversarion with her? 

Freddie nodded, laughing. “I think Sergio has been hiding something from me. He doesn’t want me to know anything about myself, in the future, er, the past. That is, after 1978.” 

Amy looked up and squinted her eyes. Then, her eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and she drew in a sharp breath before trying to play it off with a forced laugh. “Oh, he worries about everything. Don’t take him seriously.  I love him and all, but that’s just how he is. I mean, no one really wants to know what happens to them in the future, do they? I don’t want to know when I’m going to die, or how. It’s kind of morbid. And besides, we’re supposed to live each day to the fullest, aren’t we?” She spoke fast, and her hands shook as she brought the cigarette to her mouth. 

Freddie frowned. “Who said anything about dying?” Then, the realization hit him in the pit of his stomach. “Oh god, oh I see. Oh god.” He brought his hand up to mouth. He sat for a moment in silence, before he ventured a question.  “I’ve died by now, haven’t I?”

Amy couldn’t look him in the eyes. Instead of responding, she took a deep drag off her cigarette. 

“Wow.” He said, standing up. 

Freddie sighed and looked into the sky. So, that’s it. That’s why they were being so weird. I’m not alive in 2020. 

Amy shuddered, and came to join Freddie by the balcony’s railing. She put her hand on top of his. 

“Look Freddie, I show all my emotions right here.” She pointed to her face. “I won’t be the person who lies to you. I hate when people lie to protect others. Maybe that’s why I divorced my ex.” She let out a dry chuckle. “But, listen, can you promise me you won’t ask me anything about...that?”

“About how I die?”

Amy flinched slightly, then nodded somberly. “Anything about it at all.”

How fucking weird is this? 

“Okay.” Freddie said, and looked away. Not that I wanted to know anyway.  “Honestly, I’m surprised Sergio hasn’t come out here to intervene in our conversation. He was so keen to hide this from me. He’ll be livid that it’s out in the open.” 

Amy chuckled. “Oh, he knows better than to mess with me.” She said, smiling. “Besides, I think it concerns you more than him.” She paused, then looked at Freddie, and smiled. “Lets stop with the melancholy blues.”  She squeezed his hand, then let it go. “You’re Freddie Mercury, for God’s sake! I have a thousand and one questions for you!” 

Freddie grunted. “Well, I hate talking about myself, so that should be fun.”

Amy clicked her tongue. “Oh, don’t be like that. You could have ended up in a worse situation. Believe me. You ended up with two affluent gay men in a New York City apartment. You can’t be too grumpy about that .” She nudged him playfully, and snubbed out her cigarette. “And besides, you got me now. And that’s the icing on the cake!” 

It was getting chilly out on the porch, but Freddie and Amy stayed there talking for almost an hour. Freddie found out that Ace had developed an app a couple years ago, which had led to a digression into an explanation of apps. Apparently, this app was lucrative enough to afford the men their swanky home. Amy herself had a podcast (cue another explanatory lecture), which she was hoping would lead to a book deal. Amy’s podcast supplemented the marketing job that actually paid her bills. 

Freddie wrapped his arms around himself, shivering. 

Amy looked down at him. “We need to buy you some clothes, my dear. At least you’re Sergio’s size and not Ace’s. We always joked that Ace could pass for straight, with his lack of fashion sense.” She chuckled to herself. “Oh, that’s a stupid stereotype.” Then, she added. “You’re bi, right?”

Freddie’s head snapped up. “Pardon?”

“Bisexual?”

“That’s an awfully forward question, don’t you think?” Freddie scoffed. “What does that have to do with anything?” He grabbed the cigarette pack out of Amy’s hand with a huff. 

“Oh dear,” said Amy. “I didn’t mean to offend you. For the record, in 2020, you don’t have to hide your sexuality. It’s not like it was back in the 70s.” 

Freddie fumbled trying to light his cigarette. “Well, in two-thousand and twenty, is it still okay for that type of thing to be private ?” He angrily shook the lighter. “This fucking thing won’t work.” 

Amy gently took it out of his hand and lit his cigarette for him. 

“It doesn’t matter, not one bit. I’m just curious. That’s my flaw, I guess. I ask the inappropriate questions. Feel free to tell me to fuck off. You’ll find that most people do.” She leaned back in her chair. “For the record, I experimented in college, but I found out I’m straight. Unfortunately . It’s a drag, because men are such idiots.” She smiled out of the corner of her mouth. 

Freddie laughed in spite of himself. “You’re wild.” He puffed on his cigarette and attempted to change the subject. “Do you know what’s bothering Sergio and Ace? They seem so strained. I’ve only just met them, but even I can see that.” 

Amy twisted her mouth. “I think you’d better ask them. It’s not my business to tell.” 

Wow, loyalty. You don’t see that a lot. She may have been outspoken and blunt, but Amy was not a blabbermouth. Freddie respected that. Too many people had big mouths, ready to tell other people’s secrets. Freddie knew firsthand that the people you could genuinely trust were few and far between. 

“It’s mostly guys for me.” He said softly. 

Amy looked up, confused. Then she nodded in realization. 

“I mean, you’re right. They can be idiots sometimes. But, you know…” He blushed. “Sometimes, they’re just...lovely.” He looked down, grinning bashfully. 

Amy chuckled. “Right on. I’d drink to that.” 

Freddie felt emboldened. “I never saw the sense in having to choose. I mean, I think women are lovely, too.” He looked at her through his eyelashes, gauging her reaction. “It seems that now, people are more open minded?”

Amy nodded. “Well, some of them. There are still assholes out there. Fortunately, the laws have changed, and overall, there’s more widespread acceptance of the LGBTQ community.” 

“Wow, that’s a mouthful of letters.” 

Amy described the acronym to Freddie, who shook his head. “Amazing. And I can’t even wear a fur coat without being called a poof.” 

Amy laughed, then looked at Freddie with a serious expression. “I should never have asked you that question. That was very rude of me. I tried to play it off, but that was a shining example of my verbal diarrhea. Just so you know, I won’t tell anyone.” 

“I don’t doubt that,” said Freddie. “Not to mention, if you tell them how you found out, they'll think you’ve gone mad.” 

“Very true.” Amy agreed.

Chapter Text

As they came inside, Amy and Freddie almost bumped into Sergio, who was standing at the door. 

“Well, I guess our conversation wasn’t so private after all.” Amy muttered. “Sorry, Freddie.” 

“I have a great idea!” Sergio interrupted, bouncing on his heels. “Now that we’re all on the same page.” He flashed Amy a quick look of irritation. 

Freddie raised his eyebrows and glanced at Amy, who shrugged and shook her head. 

Sergio continued, unfazed. “We don’t know how or why you’re here, right?” He looked at Freddie, who nodded. “And it’s only been half a day, but we don’t know if or when you’ll make it back to the 70s.” 

Freddie groaned inwardly. Don’t remind me. 

“But, if anyone would know how to help us, it would be…” He paused for effect. “Dr. Brian May!” He threw his arms out, obviously hoping for a more enthusiastic response.

Presumably, Ace had already heard the plan, because he sat in silence on the couch, looking unconvinced. Amy furrowed her brow and pursed her lips. Shestarted to say something, but stopped herself. 

“So what could Brian possibly do?” Freddie asked, then stopped. “Wait...doctor?” 

“Oh, absolutely, Freddie. Brian has a PhD in astrophysics now.”

“Of course he does, the clever clogs!” Freddie laughed. “And, wait, don’t tell me, Roger  is a gynecologist?”

Ace and Amy chuckled. 

Sergio sighed, ignoring him. “Hear me out. It’s perfect. Not only is Brian your band mate, but he’s a genius with the time-and-space stuff. If anyone would know how to get you back to 1978, it would be him.” 

Ace spoke up. “The man’s a scientist, not a magician. Do you even know how ridiculous you sound?”

Sergio turned dramatically and snapped at his husband. “Well, do you have a better idea, Mr. Know It All? Because all you seem to do is criticize me!” 

“All right, all right, guys. Let’s just chill.” Said Amy. “I mean, Serg, you make a good point. Brain is a smart dude. And I’m sure he’d have some theories about this situation. But, how the hell are we going to get in contact with him to begin with? And let’s say we do somehow inexplicably make contact with this world famous rock star. Then what? We just casually explain that we have a thirty-something Freddie Mercury from the late 70s in the apartment?”

Sergio visibly shrank. “It sounded better in my head.” He said, flopping onto the couch and resting his chin in his hand.

“What about your pod thing?” Freddie asked Amy. “That... pod-show you told me about.”

“Oh, my podcast. Yeah, what about it?”

“Well, that means you have connections in the radio industry, right? Maybe that would help get in contact with Brian.”

Although the entire idea seemed borderline ludicrous to Freddie, the idea of time travel seemed ludicrous before, too. Now, he was ready to examine any possibility. 

Amy smiled gently at Freddie. “Not exactly, babe. Everyone with an Internet connection has a podcast these days. Thanks for your vote of support, but…” She shook her head, trailing off, as she slid into an armchair across from the sofa.

Freddie slid into the floor and stretched his long legs in front of him. 

They all sat in pensive silence for a few moments.

In the meantime, Ace pointed a remote control at what Freddie thought was a huge black picture frame. With a start, he realized it was a television hanging on the wall. 

“Crikey!” He exclaimed, seeing the bright and crisp picture on the screen. He stood and walked closer, going around to examine the television from all angles. “That is brilliant.” 

“What do you want to watch?” Ace asked.

Sergio squealed. “Let’s keep it to the early 70s, please! Even if you already know way more than I would have told you…” He shot another piercing look at Amy. “I’d still feel more comfortable if we kept it to what he already knows.”

“I definitely don’t want to see myself on that massive telly, thank you very much. So don’t you worry about that!” Freddie exclaimed. 

“Nonsense.” Said Amy. “You were made for the screen, and you know it.” She got up and took the remote from Ace, before turning back to Freddie. She spoke into it: “Queen. Liar .” She looked back over her shoulder. “And don’t you say a word.” She added playfully, pointing at Freddie. 

Freddie grinned unabashedly. He was starting to adore this spunky little woman. It barely registered that she had just spoken into a remote control and conjured a video, as if from thin air. 

As he watched the beginning of the video, Freddie threw his head back. “God, Amy, you little minx.”  He playfully slapped at her as he watched himself strut around in the music video. “Look at my belt. I mean, really!” 

“Oh shut up. You know you’re fabulous.”

Mid-laugh, Freddie stopped suddenly. He turned to the others. 

“I’ve got it. I know how we can get Brian to talk to us!” 

Chapter Text

Everyone stared at Freddie.

“You see, Brian’s wife and his wife, Chrissy, bought a place in New York. We could show up there, and maybe ask the doorman to relay a message to the owners…”

Ace laughed. “You have a lot of faith in Brian’s relationships, I’ll give you that.” He had Google searched Brian May. “He’s been divorced from Chrissy for a long time now.” 

“You’re kidding!” Freddie said. “I wouldn’t have guessed that one. But hell, I should have known: no one seems to stay together anymore.”

Ace and Sergio shared a look that was not lost on Amy or Freddie, who politely chose to ignore it. 

“Well I’m sorry for my stupid idea. What the hell would I have even said if they did live there? ” Freddie slumped over. He seemed to constantly forget it was not 1978, despite all the obvious clues. What a paradox. 

“No, it’s not stupid, Freddie.” Amy piped up. “It’s just, a lot can happen in 40 years.” She mused. “I thought about the email route. But, Brian is so famous he probably gets thousands of emails a day from fans.” She looked at Freddie’s perplexed face and started to explain. “It’s electronic mail. I’ll tell you more about it later. Anyway, Brian probably has someone who sorts through all the emails, like an assistant or media person or whatever. He wouldn’t even see any of them if we did write.” 

“Unless we said something that caught their attention.” Freddie said, perking up. “Something that would leave them with no choice but to show Brian.” 

“It sounds like you have something in mind…” Sergio said. 

“I know loads of Brian’s little secrets.” Freddie laughed. “But, I have one that would definitely catch him off guard. When we were recording Bohemian Rhapsody, Brian got drunk once and told me something he said no one else knew.”

Everyone sat waiting. Freddie, lost in thought, didn’t realize that all eyes were on him again. 

“Well, are you going to leave us hanging?” Amy finally sighed. 

Freddie looked at her and laughed. “It’s a secret. And he’s still my mate, after all.” He shrugged.

“I respect that.” Amy said. “But, I assume you don’t have an email address. So you’ll be using one of ours. In other words, one of our nosy asses could easily find out what you’ve written. If we wanted to. And I can only speak for myself, but I would totally read it. And if I know them, these guys would, too.”

Freddie looked around the room. “You cheeky bastards.” He chuckled. “Well, okay. One night, Brian and I were pissed to the gills, talking about our best kisses... for whatever reason. You know how drunk conversations go. He asked me if it was nicer kissing boys or girls. I told him he was mad, and pretended not to know what the fuck he was on about. But, he kept on. Once Brian gets an idea in his head, he’s like a dog with a bone. God knows, he wasn’t going to remember any of it the next day, so I said it was nicer kissing boys. You know, I tried to play it off like some sort of joke. But, he got all serious and I thought I’d cocked-up royally. Then, he leaned in and told me that his first kiss was with a boy, when he was eleven years old. I’ll never forget the name: Reginald Dunsley. What a name that is, I tell you. I didn’t give a flying flip, of course. But, Brian was almost in tears, he was so distraught about it. He asked me if that made him gay, like I was the bloody expert on the matter! I said honey, what you do before you have hair on your balls doesn’t count…” Freddie flicked his wrist with a flourish, before adding: “Sorry, Amy.” 

“Hey, I’ve heard worse.” Amy chuckled. “So, that’s it? An innocent kiss as a little kid? That’s going to make him suddenly agree to talk to us?”

“You didn’t see how much it upset him. Brian is so open-minded and he’s the smartest guy I’ve ever met. But, he doubts himself a lot. I don’t want to hit him below the belt, but if I say that name, he’ll listen. I doubt anyone else on this earth knows about that. Except Reginald himself. Brian himself probably doesn’t even remember telling me. We certainly never mentioned it again.”

"Just to remind you, Freddie. It's been a long time since he told you that drunken secret." Ace said, skeptically. "I am having a hard time believing it will work." 

"Respectfully, do you have a better idea?" Freddie responded, a bit more saucily than he had intended. 

Ace raised his eyebrows, and conceded with a nod. "Fair enough." 

Amy pulled out what Freddie assumed was her eye phone and began tapping away. 

“Okay, there’s an email address for Brian. What do we have to lose?” She tapped some more, then held out the device for Freddie.

He grabbed it and stared at the screen. 

“Pardon me, but what the fuck am I looking at?” 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry, Freddie.” Amy said, grabbing the phone back. “I forgot, you have no cell phone experience, let alone smartphones. This is all just blowing my mind. You dictate what you want to say to Brian, and I’ll type it.”

“All right.” Freddie nodded. The whole situation made him feel like he was drunk and high and slightly mad. “Dear Brian… or should I say Dr. Brian May?” He shook his head. “What bollocks. Brian has a doctorate in 2020 and I’m fucking dead.” 

Everyone looked on, and Freddie noticed they weren’t able to meet his gaze. He scoffed and continued.

“I’m not saying Dr. Brian May, by the way. So.” He cleared his throat, and stood up. Beginning to pace the floor, he dictated: “ Dear Brian, I’m writing as a friend. A dear old friend .” He stopped. “Fuck, I’m not good at this. Come on, can someone help me?”

“I’ll jot something down, then you can see if you like it?” Amy suggested, and Freddie nodded.

“Yes, please, darling. I need the loo.” He turned to Sergio.

“Oh yeah, like I said, make yourself at home!” Sergio responded.

Once in the bathroom, Freddie stared at himself in the mirror. He fluffed his hair a bit, frowning. The only place he could go for a moment of privacy was the bathroom. What if this goes on forever? I can’t live with these two guys the whole time. But, there’s no way I can start a life from scratch without any of my things. He felt dizzy, and sat down on the toilet seat, elbows on his knees, face in his hands. He shut his eyes tightly, and felt a swaying sensation and a tingling all over his body. 

Chapter Text

Freddie registered the feeling as the exact one he had the day before all the madness began, when he lay down on the sofa to sleep and woke up forty-two years later. But, the feeling passed. He felt queasy, but he was not transported back to his decade. Damn .

He peeked his head out the door, but instead of going back to the sitting room with the others, who chatted amongst themselves, Freddie turned towards Sergio and Ace’s bedroom. He was not accustomed to snooping in other people’s things, but Freddie felt desperate for clues that may lead him back to his own reality.

The door to their bedroom was ajar, so Freddie slid in and saw the neatly made bed. He opened the drawer of the nightstand closest to him, expecting to see the usual suspects: lube, sex toys, maybe even a blindfold. But, instead he saw some hand lotion, a journal, a paperback book, a bottle of medication. Damn, nothing sexual at all?  Jesus, no wonder they’re so on edge. 

Freddie felt he was invading their privacy by rifling through their personal effects, but he was curious if anything he found would trigger what he needed to time-travel back. He had only been in the twenty-first century a matter of hours (and he had to admit some of the technologies were quite fun), but Freddie somehow felt the longer he stayed, the more possibility he would be permanently stuck there. Here I go, trying to make sense of a ludicrous situation with some equally bizarre logic.

He never thought he would open up so much to three strangers, but Freddie supposed the situation was anything but usual, and he did not have anything to lose by divulging private information. It was obvious they knew more about him than he did, since they knew when and how he died. How strange. Freddie did not like to dwell on death, but now that he had a window right into his future, it was very tempting to peek inside. 

Just as he opened the closet door, Freddie heard someone behind him and spun around, wearing what he imagined was a very guilty expression.

“Do you need something, Freddie?” Ace asked, his eyebrows furrowed. 

Freddie felt like such a fool, and scrambled to say something to explain why he was in their bedroom. 

“I just wondered...if I could borrow a...jacket. I should have asked.”

Ace sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I know you don’t need a jacket, Freddie.”

The singer bit his lip. He was not a very good liar and he felt that Ace had not liked him from the start. Now, he was going to hate him even more. 

Ace smiled halfheartedly. “He cheated.” 

Freddie tilted his head in confusion. 

“Sergio cheated.” Ace clarified, bowing his head.

Freddie did not know what to say. 

“I can’t seem to shake it. I told him I forgave him, and I did. But, I guess I’m not over it. Because I keep thinking about it.” He rested his head in his hands. “We go through all the motions, but…we’re not the same.” 

Freddie sat down gently on the bed beside Ace.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. When did it happen?” He asked. 

“That’s the crazy part. It’s been like seven months. I keep thinking it was just sex. It was just a hookup. But, still. In all our four years together, I never touched anyone else. Not that I never thought about it. But, then he goes and...” Ace took a deep breath, trailing off.

Freddie thought of his own infidelities, the ones committed on him, and the knots he seemed to get into where love and relationships were concerned. He couldn’t imagine someone wanting only him for four years.

“Well, I consider it a win if someone wants to… sleep with me more than once.” Freddie said, and laughed wryly. He realized just how profoundly sad that sounded when he said it aloud. He quickly added: “What I mean is, I think it’s really something that you have been together that long, and married! ” Freddie shrieked the last word, and Ace chuckled.

“Now you know why we’ve been so weird.” He said quietly. “You must have thought I was just an asshole.” 

Freddie shrugged. “Kind of.” He nudged Ace playfully. “But that’s all right, dear. It’s your house, and I’m an unexpected guest. A very unexpected guest. I think we are all a bit out of our element right now.” 

Ace nodded. “So what exactly were you searching for in our closet?” 

Freddie felt his cheeks redden. “Oh gosh, I feel vile. I don’t really know. I suppose I’m looking for anything that may take me back to 1978.”

“Like a time machine?” Ace asked. 

Freddie realized the other man shared his dry humor. 

“Yes, or...don’t laugh...some portal. Some Doctor Who type business.”

Ace clapped his hands together. “Oh, I could spoil so much of Doctor Who for you if I wanted to. Whole decades of it!” 

“Don’t you dare!” Freddie said, then plugged his ears dramatically. “La la la, I can’t hear you!” 

The two burst into laughter, and Freddie thought how wrongly he had misjudged the man. Ace was like a big teddy bear, when he thought about it. And he happened to have an affinity for big teddy bear-like men. Snap out of it, Freddie. The man is married. And in relationship trouble. Get yourself together.

They chatted a bit more, before walking back to the sitting room together. Freddie noticed that Sergio seemed to watch them intently and somewhat warily. 

“Ok, Freddie, I think I have something.” Amy said, referring to the email she had drafted. “Feel free to chime in.” She cleared her throat. “Dear Brian, I know you may not ever see this, but here’s hoping. I’m a friend, and I need your help. It’s difficult to explain in this format, but there’s no other way for me to reach you directly. You and I know each other very well, and I can prove that. A long time ago, you told me something very personal about yourself. Without going into specific details, I hope the name Reginald Dunsley rings a bell. I am not Reginald, nor am I his friend or family member, but you told me something very personal about him once. Please contact me at this email address, or this cell-phone number. I will explain everything. I await your response, Your Old Friend. And then I included my phone number.” She looked up, and shrugged her shoulders. “Well? How’s that sound?” 

Freddie nodded. “It’s great, Amy. Thank you, dear.”

Amy smiled. “Good! Then, I’m going to send it.” She tapped her screen a few times. “Now comes the hard part: waiting for the response... if there is any.” 

“Oh I’m sure there will…” Freddie said, stopping abruptly with a gasp. 

A white cat with black spots had sauntered into the room and was cautiously checking out the scene.

Freddie was ecstatic. He adored cats. He slowly bent, hoping to lure the animal closer without scaring it. 

“That’s Liza,” said Sergio. 

“As in Minelli?” Freddie whispered excitedly. 

Sergio nodded. “We couldn’t be gayer if we tried.”

“A girl after my own heart!” Freddie said, holding his hand out to Liza. She approached him tentatively, but quickly seemed to trust him. She rubbed herself against his leg, purring. Freddie petted her head and then turned with a goofy grin on his face. “I’m in love.” 

Freddie fussed over the cat, stroking her fur and cooing. Suddenly, Amy squealed, scaring Liza away. 

Freddie looked up, about to protest the abrupt departure of his new friend, but Amy blurted: “We got a reply!” 

“Already?” Sergio asked. “It’s been three minutes.”

Amy’s smile faded when she realized it was an automatic reply message. 

“Fuck! It just says they’re glad we emailed, but due to the high volume of messages they get, they may not be able to respond right away, yada yada, but they do appreciate our support.” She scoffed, plopping down on the couch. Still studying her screen, she suddenly sat up straight. “Wait, there’s a phone number here. On the email signature. It’s probably just a hotline, right?” 

“Dial it!” Freddie yelled. 

Amy pressed something, then held her device up to her ear. “It’s ringing.” She informed the others. “I’ll put it on speaker.” She tapped the screen, then held out the phone. They all heard the dial tone, followed by a connection.

A British woman’s voice came over the line. “Thank you for calling the Queen International Fan Club. If you know your party’s extension, please enter it now. If you would like to join our mailing list, please…” Amy ended the call with a huff. 

“I guess we just wait and see if anyone— any human—actually responds.” Amy said. She glanced at the time on her phone. “Oh man, I should get back home. I have to get some things done before tomorrow.” 

Freddie felt a wave of disappointment. He enjoyed having Amy there, and it was sinking in that everyone would have to return to their normal lives soon. Tomorrow was Monday, after all. He could not help but wonder where that left him. Freddie was not fond of being idle; he felt useless if he was not working on something. 

“Oh Ames, you should just go get your stuff and stay with us for a while.” Ace said. 

Freddie found himself nodding. “Please!” He pouted. 

Amy grinned widely. “I mean, if Freddie Mercury is begging me to do something, I don’t think I have a choice. I’m only human. Look at that face!” She pointed to Freddie, who burst into a full smile, teeth and all.

“Let me just run home and grab a few things.” She said, standing. “Actually, Freddie, do you want to join me? Just to get out and see a little of the city. Granted, it’s not normal, because of the pandemic, but you can get some fresh air.” 

Freddie could not nod fast enough. Amy made her way to the kitchen, where she grabbed her purse.

“But, you’ll need a mask,” she said.

Freddie remembered when he first met Amy, she had worn a strange mask. When she pulled it out, Freddie now realized it was made of cloth. 

“Guys, do you have any clean masks?”

Sergio hopped up and went to a drawer in the kitchen, where he pulled out a package, which he tore open. He handed Freddie a surgical mask that looked like something a doctor in an operating room may wear, only all black.

“Elegant.” Freddie said sarcastically, turning it over in his hands.

“Yeah, those are pretty basic. But, some people have cute ones. With all kinds of designs. Some people even have your face on their masks! Or your moustache… nevermind.” 

Freddie was excited to leave the apartment. He was also profoundly nervous. Just being inside a two-bedroom flat in 2020 provided him with enough surprises for a lifetime. Now, he was going into a huge city, forty-two years in the future. He half expected to see flying cars when they got to the street.

Instead, he saw a slightly cleaner New York, with newer cars. Amy was right, though. The street seemed less busy than he would have thought, although it was not a desolate wasteland, either. 

“Would you rather walk or take a cab?” 

Freddie looked down at Amy’s heels. Then raised his eyebrows at her. “I think we better call a car. Unless you live a couple blocks down.” 

Amy laughed. “I appreciate that. It’s more like a forty-minute walk. Ok just a sec, let me…” She pulled out her phone again and started tapping. “All right, someone should be here soon.” 

Freddie marveled at the utter convenience of the future. The mystery seemed to lie in those little touch-screen phones that everyone looked at all the time. 

It did not look like a taxi, but Amy assured Freddie their ride was approaching. They got in and said hello to the driver, but did not say another word before they started moving. Freddie wondered how he knew where they were going, but decided against trying to make sense of anything he saw. Instead he settled in beside the window to look out. 

It was not long before they arrived at Amy’s building, and they stood in front of a small brownstone with steps leading up to the door. 

“Mine’s a walk up. Not as fancy as Ace and Serg’s.” Amy said, walking up the stairs and using a key to unlock the front. From there, they entered a hallway with a staircase, which they ascended to the third floor. Amy unlocked apartment 3C and pushed open the door. 

Inside was a cozy little place filled with warmth and personality. Freddie immediately felt comfortable there. And his mouth dropped open when he saw a piano against the wall.

“You have a piano!”

Amy grinned. “Well, it’s my ex-husband’s. But, it was a bitch to get up those three flights, so he left it when he moved out. Now, it’s my problem.” She rolled her eyes. “I mean, if I had a bigger place, I wouldn’t mind.” 

Freddie had already walked over to inspect the instrument. “Does your husb...ex-husband play?”

“Yeah, Aaron is a music teacher.” She set her bag down and kicked off her heels. “Be my guest. It’s been a while since anyone’s played it.” 

Freddie sat down on the stool in front of the piano. He pulled back the lid and ran his hands along the keys. It wasn’t a grand piano, of course, but it was a solid-looking quality upright. Freddie launched into “Camptown Races”, sending Amy into a burst of giggles. 

“I can’t believe Freddie Mercury is in my house, playing the piano.” Amy said, when he finished. “I keep pinching myself, thinking I’ll wake up any minute.” 

“Me too.” Freddie said, turning on the stool. “Your home is lovely, Amy.” 

The walls were decorated with fantastic and unique artwork, and there were plants on nearly every surface, and a colorful rug on the floor. 

“Thank you. Feel free to explore. I’m going to pack myself a bag and grab some things. If you want a snack, just grab whatever you want out of the fridge. Mi casa es tu casa!” 

Freddie was quite thirsty, so he went to the refrigerator and opened it. He picked up a small plastic bottle labelled coconut water and took it with him as he inspected Amy’s place. With carte blanche to explore, Freddie felt less creepy than he had sneaking around Sergio and Ace’s bedroom.

 Amy had a small bookshelf overflowing with books. He wasn’t a reader himself, but Freddie still admired Amy’s diverse collection of titles. She really needed a new shelf, though, as the overflow novels were stacked in every nook of the space. He noticed what looked to be a photo album, and picked it up. Inside were wedding photos featuring a younger, radiant Amy and a tall, handsome black man with an equally elated expression. 

“Those are from our wedding.” Amy said from behind him as she stepped closer. 

Freddie smiled. “Great photographs. This must be Aaron.” He pointed to the man and Amy nodded. 

“Yes, that’s him. Gosh, that was almost ten years ago. Where does the time go?” 

That’s what I’d like to know. Freddie thought, but stayed silent. He wanted to ask what happened, but he felt he had pried enough into people’s relationships for one day. And he had only known her for a few hours. 

To break the awkward silence, Freddie turned and began to play the piano again. The lilting melody he tapped out was sweet and upbeat. 

“That’s lovely,” Amy said. “You play beautifully .” 

Freddie scoffed. “No, dear, my piano skills are rubbish. You see, I was never classically trained.” 

“That’s what makes it all the more amazing! And you’ve got such a unique style of playing.” Amy said, patting Freddie’s shoulder. 

“You may like this one,” Freddie said. “Brian and I thought of it together. We never wrote it down anywhere, or released it, or anything like that. We came up with it in ‘76. Let’s see if I remember. ” Freddie started to play, adding a few incomplete lyrics here and there. 

Amy was amazed and honored to hear an unreleased early Queen track, played by the lead singer himself--in her home. She swooned, getting lost in the music, before she suddenly had an idea that caused her to grab Freddie by the shoulders and spin him around.

Chapter Text

Freddie squealed, eyes wide. 

“I’ve got it!” Amy said, ignoring Freddie’s shocked expression. “We’ll record you playing that song, and send it to Brian! This song wasn’t produced or anything, so the members of the band are the only ones who know about it, right?” She nodded eagerly.

Freddie let out a long exhale. “You scared the shit out of me, Amy!” He chastised. “I’m not kidding, I may have crapped my pants.” 

Amy ignored Freddie’s remark and stared at him expectantly. 

He sighed. “Well, yes, you’re right. But, we riff off each other all the time...” 

“Yes, but your style of playing, plus your voice, plus this unreleased song? Come on, this is better than the Reginald what’s-his-name story!” 

Freddie frowned. He had thought that was quite a clever idea. But, seeing Amy’s face, he shrugged. “All right. But, how do we record it?” Don’t tell me, it has something to do with that miraculous gadget. 

“I do a podcast, remember? I have all the equipment already. Granted, it’s not like a recording studio , but it’ll be enough to get the job done.” 

Amy scurried away and Freddie rubbed his temples. 

“What - you mean now ?” He yelled after her. 

“Of course, now!” Amy yelled back from her bedroom. “Do whatever you need to warm up!” 

“Damn, you’re bossy.” Freddie smirked as Amy returned with an armful of devices.

Amy stuck her tongue out at him, and started to plug some wires into her phone. 

I knew that gadget had something to do with it.  If I could bring one of those back to 1978, I’d win a Nobel Prize. 

“You know, if I’m to do this, I want to do it right. I never do anything half-arsed. So, be prepared — because I can be an awful bitch in the recording studio.” Freddie warned.

Amy shot him a sassy look. “Well, bring it!” She said, leaning down. “Because, what you don’t know is: I’m known as the ball-buster in my business.” 

“Touché,” Freddie said, turning with a shimmy of his shoulders and purse of his lips.

Amy is a treasure. I really will miss her when I go back. 

Even in 1978, people had begun to treat Freddie differently because of his fame. He was wary of meeting new people because they often had ulterior motives in mind, or they were entirely too placating. Amy was different. Since her initial fainting spell, she definitely showed reverence for him, but without allowing it to color the way she treated him: like a normal person. 

“All right, let’s do this fucking thing!” Freddie shouted, clapping his hands. “And, do you keep any type of drinks besides… coconut water?”

“Ah, yes, you mean an adult beverage.” Amy said, cocking her eyebrow. “What’s your poison?”

Freddie shrugged. “Anything with an alcohol content, darling.” 

Amy laughed. “If we start down this road, we may not make it back to Jason and Serg’s.” 

Yet, even as she spoke, Amy had already made her way to the cabinet, where she pulled out a bottle of red wine. She held it up to show Freddie, who nodded in approval. She pulled down two stemless glasses and began to uncork the bottle. 

Freddie started to tinker on the piano, warming up. He played the first few notes of Bohemian Rhapsody, and Amy stopped to close her eyes and enjoy the song. Freddie stopped playing and glanced over. 

“And the wine?” 

“Coming, Your Highness.” Amy joked, pouring generous portions for them both.

She brought a glass to Freddie, who thanked her and took a sip.

“You see, this is my lubrication, honey.” 

“Sexy,” Amy responded, sipping her wine.

He waved his hand at her. “For my voice, you minx!” 

“In that case, I’ll go ahead and say it: alcohol is terrible for your vocal cords. It actually dries you out. Totally the opposite of lubrication. That is, according to my ex, the music teacher.” 

Freddie rolled his eyes, and turned to the piano. 

They fooled around with the recording of the song for a while, but Freddie kept wanting to do it over, as if it were actually going to be sold as a single. He simply was not satisfied until he felt something was as good as he thought it could be. Meanwhile, the wine was flowing, and before long, they’d finished the bottle. 

“We should order some food, Freddie.” Amy said, standing to stretch. 

“Oh fuck the food. Do you have more wine?” 

Amy raised her eyebrows. “You weren’t kidding about being a bitch.” 

Their rapport felt like they’d been friends years instead of mere hours. 

Freddie feigned shock. 

“And listen sweetie,” Amy continued. “I went through a divorce recently. You can rest assured that I have plenty of alcohol in my home.” 

As Amy uncorked another bottle, Freddie stood to join her. 

“So, when are you going to tell me about Aaron?” He said, twirling his finger on the countertop.

Amy sighed. “Oh god, let’s have another bottle first.” 

After a while, they began to ignore their recording project in favor of chatting and tinkering on the piano. Amy couldn’t play a tune, nor sing one, but she was enthusiastic, and Freddie thought that was just as important. She asked if he knew a song and he would play a bit of it, which enthralled her. At points, she laughed so hard her jaw ached. 

“I can’t remember when I’ve had this much fun. Certainly not in the past year!”  

Freddie smiled sincerely, then noticed it had gotten dark outside. “Oh, my, what about going back to…”

“Oh don’t worry,” Amy interrupted. “I texted Jason--er Ace, a while ago and told him you were staying with me tonight.” 

“Well, that is mighty forward, young lady!” Freddie said. “And just where do you expect me to sleep?” 

“Oh, with me of course.” Amy laughed. “We can sleep head to toe. You know. So that it’s not inappropriate.” She slurred her words slightly, as she was pleasantly tipsy.

Freddie made a face .“Oh please. I’ve had some of the best sex of my life head to toe. It in no way deters the funny business. In fact, I think it encourages it.”

Amy burst out laughing. “Well, then you’ll take my bed and I’ll take the sofa.” She looked at her small couch and frowned visibly. 

“I simply cannot put you out of your bed, Amy. I’ll just come out with it. If we share a bed, I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.” 

Amy squinted at him. “It’s not you I don’t trust. It’s me. I haven’t gotten laid in a looong time.” 

Oh my. What’s going on here? She’s just a bit drunk is all. 

“What about that food?” Freddie changed the subject. 

“Oh…” Amy looked slightly embarrassed. “Um, yeah let’s order something. What are you in the mood for?”

Chapter Text

Freddie shrugged. “You know the best places around here.” He cleared his throat and shifted.

Amy looked at him with a contrite expression. “Look, Freddie, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I was only kidding.” She paused. “I mean I wasn't kidding about not getting laid,” she laughed dryly. “But, I mean…I wasn’t actually serious about you and me...”

Freddie took her arm, shaking his head. “No, no, darling. I get it. It’s all right. It takes a lot to make me uncomfortable.” He smiled. “It’s just that, I’m seeing someone. Well, I am back in 1978. And what you said made me think of... that person.”

Amy looked relieved. “Oh! Yeah, I see! You have to tell me everything!” She grinned widely. “Just let me place an order from my favorite spot; you’ll love it.”

The truth was, Freddie’s homesickness was sinking in, now that he had been in 2020 almost a full day. He always joked that he needed a break from the band, but now that it had come true, he wanted nothing more than to hear one of Roger’s wisecracks or one of Brian’s thoughtful observations or John’s silly laugh. They’re my brothers. 

He felt silly for having spoiled the vibe, though. He knew Amy meant nothing by it. After all, she and Ace and Sergio had gone out of their way to make Freddie comfortable when he had shown up so unexpectedly. They’d racked their brains to think of a way to get him back home. He wondered how his situation would have gone if he had arrived in the home of someone else, someone less understanding. 

Of course, he missed Joe, too. Joe was the whole reason Freddie was in the States to begin with. They’d only just started seeing each other and Freddie still felt that nervous excitement that comes with a new fling. He had seen Joe the night before all the time travel business. But, he did not remember where Joe had ended up after Minehsaft. 

“All right! The food should be here in a half hour!” Amy said. “Now, who is this lucky fellow who has Freddie Mercury’s attention?”

Freddie chuckled. “Oh, you just happen to know it’s a guy , do you?” 

Amy pretended to contemplate, then quickly nodded.

Freddie rolled his eyes. “Oh fuck it.” He couldn’t help but smile. “His name is Joe.”

“Is he cute?” Amy asked, sitting on the couch. 

Freddie laughed. “Oh, Amy!” He plopped down beside her. “Yes, he’s cute . And he’s very sweet. I’ll be dreadfully sorry if I somehow fuck it up because of the fact that I’m now in another century. I’ve never been good at long distance relationships.” He joked.

“Well,” Amy replied. “If we can finally record this damn song, we can send it over to Brian and see what he has to say.” She turned to face Freddie. “I know it seems like a long shot, but I have a good feeling about this.” She patted his leg. 

“Thank you, Amy.” Freddie said. “You’ve been so kind to me. Pardon me, but your ex must have been an idiot to let you go.” 

Amy sighed. “Oh, yes, Aaron. You know, the shitty part is: he’s not an idiot. I mean, sometimes it’s easier to call our exes liars than to admit that the reality was far more...complicated.” 

Amy’s phone started to buzz. 

“Oh, the food!” 

After they ate, they continued to chat and tinker on the piano. Before long, Amy’s yawns were so frequent that Freddie stopped and told her to go on to bed. 

She giggled, yawning again. “Let me grab you something more comfortable to sleep in.” Amy returned with a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. 

“I know I’m thin, but I don’t think I’ll fit into your things, dear.” Freddie said.

“Oh, no, these are Aaron’s. I haven’t gotten around to throwing them out. They’re clean.” She handed them over. 

Truthfully, Freddie was too tired to care whose trousers he wore. His exhaustion had hit him suddenly, as the day's events all came rushing to a halt. 

“And, you’re welcome to share my bed. It’s big.” Amy added quickly. “No monkey business.” 

Freddie laughed. “All right, I’ll do it. Because I am not sleeping on that sofa.” He pointed to the small couch. “Unless you have a quaalude handy.” 

A while later, the two got into Amy’s very soft and reasonably large bed.

“You don’t snore, do you?” Asked Freddie, side-eying Amy. 

She laughed, yawning again. “No, fortunately for you, I do not.” Her eyes drifted shut as she spoke, and soon, she was asleep. 

It impressed Freddie how fast she fell asleep. While he was completely knackered, he found it hard to shut down his brain. He kept thinking of the night before, and the drive home from Mineshaft. He closed his eyes to concentrate and he could remember being in the backseat of a car with maybe three other men, all stuffed together. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost smell the sweat and leather. He tried to recall if Joe was among the men in the back of that car. He could not quite picture their faces, but he could see their leather pants, and remembered his own sweaty bare legs sticking to the car-seat. He remembered one of the guys joking about Freddie wearing shorts in September, and teasing him about his legs. 

Come on, where did we go after that? Freddie didn’t think they went back to the apartment after that. No, there was another stop between Mineshaft and the flat where he had fallen asleep on the bedroom sofa. Suddenly, with intense and unexpected clarity, Freddie knew that stop most likely held the clue as to why he was in 2020, and maybe, just maybe, how could get back to 1978.

Chapter Text

Freddie awoke to find Amy’s petite body curled against his side. She looked comfortable, so he was careful not to move too much and wake her. Although he had a slight headache, Freddie began to push his memory again, back to the night of Mineshaft, desperate for more clues.   He squeezed his eyes  shut, trying to physically push himself to remember anything relevant from that night. Then he realized how ridiculous it was to try and force a memory that was probably long gone.

Amy stirred beside him and rested her hand on Freddie’s chest. She blinked her eyes open and quickly pulled her hand away, rolling onto her back. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m not used to sharing a bed.” 

“It’s quite alright, dear. And, good morning. I hope you slept well with me in your way.”

Amy smiled. “Actually, I slept very well. Better than usual. I felt … safe with you here.”

Freddie looked surprised. “Me? Well, I don’t know if I’ve heard that one. But, that’s a very nice thing to say.” He smiled warmly. 

Amy sat up, stretching her arms back. She scooted off the bed, and threw on a robe. 

“Coffee?” 

“Yes, please.” Freddie answered.

A bit later, Amy brought two mugs to the bed and climbed back in. 

“What about your work, dear? After all, that’s why we came here in the first place. I don’t want to be the reason you’re not able to concentrate.” 

Amy took a sip of coffee. “No, believe me, I have all day. That’s the beauty of freelance work. As long as I have access to my computer, I’m golden.”

Freddie looked around the bedroom in the light of day. On the  nightstand closest to him was a framed photo of Ace and Amy on either side of an older woman. As he leaned down to inspect it, Amy spoke up.

“Not many people keep physical photos anymore, Freddie. You wouldn’t believe what these things have done to us.” He glanced over to see her holding up her phone. “These are our cameras and photo albums now. But, I still print my favorites.” 

Freddie furrowed his brow. The phone also takes photographs? The things it could do never seemed to end. Freddie loved snapping photos, especially candid shots of his friends, which he gave to them after they were developed. As he turned back to the photo, Freddie realized the woman looked very familiar. 

“Who is this?” He asked. 

Amy looked over and smiled. “That’s my mom.” 

Freddie couldn’t keep from staring, sure he had seen the woman before. But, where? It made no sense. 

“You favor her,” he said, turning. “You make a very lovely family.”

Amy smiled. “Yeah, Mom’s great. She moved to Massachusetts after my dad died. That’s where she grew up. But we still see her as often as we can.” She slid out of bed. “Well, I guess I can’t stay here all day, as tempting as it is.” 

Once Amy left the room, Freddie picked up the frame and stared at the woman again, before shaking his head and putting it down. What are you looking for, Freddie?

Amy prepared French omelettes, insisting she didn’t need Freddie’s help, despite his repeated offers. 

“You’re a good cook, Amy!” Freddie said, when he’d finished his breakfast. “You didn’t strike me as… I mean, I had no idea.” 

Amy laughed aloud. “Well, it’s just eggs! I’m not Martha Stewart or anything.” 

Freddie looked confused. “Who?” 

“Well, I’m not Julia Child, how about that?”

“Oh ok.” Freddie nodded in recognition. 

Freddie did insist on washing the plates, which Amy allowed. 

 “I think I’m going to tinker a bit on the piano, try to perfect this song so we can send it off today.” He said, when he finished. 

“Perfect. I’m going to do a little work in the bedroom. Just let me know if you need anything.” 

On the table was a thin, silver metal rectangle with a picture of a bitten apple on it, which Amy picked up and carried towards her bedroom.

“What is that?” Freddie could not help but ask. 

Amy turned, lifting the object slightly. “Oh, my Macbook? It’s a laptop...a computer.” 

Freddie raised his eyebrows and shook his head. He could not even formulate a proper question.

Amy came back over and sat down on the sofa. She patted the spot next to her and Freddie joined her.

“Ok, prepare to have your mind blown.” She said, setting the metal rectangle on her lap.

She opened it like a sideways book. There was a keyboard inside, like a typewriter. And a screen. A very thin screen, with a picture of a beach scene. 

Freddie’s eyes widened. Amy looked at him and giggled.

“See, this is the screen. And you can type here, obviously. This is the trackpad. It’s like a mouse.” Seeing Freddie’s expression, she stopped to consider her words. “You see, in order to...do things, you have to move this.” She pointed to the cursor. “And this is how you do it. You glide your fingers here. And it moves the little pointer. Then you tap when you want to select something. Watch me.” 

Freddie watched Amy move the cursor around the screen. Then, she asked him to try it. 

He leaned forward and put his finger on the trackpad. He tapped it down and Amy told him to ease up the pressure, so that he simply slid his fingers over the surface. When he saw the cursor moving, he grinned.

“Now, you see that little colorful circle?” She pointed to the Google Chrome icon. “Try and move the pointer there.” 

Freddie did so, slowly but surely. Amy told him to tap the trackpad twice. When he did so, the screen changed and he gasped slightly. There was a white screen with colorful letters that said Google. 

“Is this your work?” Freddie asked, incredulous.

“Well, this is the Internet. I’m not a tech person, so someone like Jason should probably explain this to you, but basically the Internet is...a web that connects computers and users all over the world. So, we could communicate with someone in India right now, or South Africa, or England. We could see the news reports from almost any place on the globe. Our phones have it, too. I know you were super confused about how I called a car yesterday. That was the Internet, too. It’s probably the most impactful invention of the past fifty years, Freddie.”

“I know governments and militaries use big interconnected computer networks. You’re saying anyone can access it?” 

“Oh yeah. So, ask me anything.”

“Huh?”

“Ask me any question, big or small. Same random factoid.” 

“Oh gosh, I don’t know, Amy. I’m sufficiently astounded for one day.” 

“Freddie, you haven’t even seen anything yet.” She pulled up Google Earth and typed in her own address. 

Freddie gasped as the image of the Earth zoomed in and zoomed in until they saw a crystal clear picture of the street. Amy moved the cursor and they were looking at the front of her apartment building. 

“Christ!” Freddie said, jumping up. “They’ve got a camera out there right now?” He went over to the window. 

Amy started laughing, and apologized when Freddie looked back at her with a scowl.

“Oh, no, I think it’s satellites. You can see anywhere on Earth. Give me an address and I’ll show you.” 

Freddie came back over, warily. He narrowed his eyes. “You sure this is safe?”

Amy chuckled again, then stopped herself. “Yes, Freddie. It’s all right.”

Freddie cleared his throat, then gave her an address, which she typed into the search. The picture zoomed out again and then moved across the ocean to England, where it zoomed in once again in London, then on a street, and finally, in front of an unassuming house.

Freddie opened his mouth and uttered a small gasp. “That’s where I grew up. It looks the same.” He grinned. “That’s something else! I can’t believe I can see the window to my old bedroom.” He pointed to the window, then he furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s that blue plaque on the wall there? Oh wait, it says my name!” He leaned forward. “Freddie Mercury...Fred Bulsara. 1946 to …”  Freddie put his hand up to his mouth in surprise. “1991.” 

Chapter Text

“Fuck.” Freddie said as Amy slapped the laptop closed. “1991? My god, I’m only what? In my mid-forties?” He ran his hands through his hair. I don’t even make it to my old age? He paced the room. “How does this happen?” 

Amy looked helpless. “Um…” She stuttered. “Freddie, I told you not to ask me this.” She put her face in her hands. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea this would happen.” 

Freddie shuddered. “I need some air.” 

Before Amy could respond, Freddie slid on his shoes and stepped out the door. He ran down the stairs and out the main door, where he stood on the stoop of the building and took several deep breaths. 

Someone walked by wearing one of those ridiculous masks, and Freddie remembered he should have one, too. He cursed and wondered what harm it could do if he were walking in the open air. Then again, no one had explained to him how the virus was transmitted. Yet another mystery to bend his mind into a pretzel. Destructive global virus. Dead at 45. The future fucking sucks. He tilted his head back and continued to breathe slowly. Never one to dwell in self pity, Freddie shook his head, attempting to bring himself out of the shock and despair he felt at finding out the exact year of his death. 

“Hey man, you got any cash?” Someone on the sidewalk asked Freddie. The man was likely homeless, and his clothing was disheveled. 

Freddie had a sudden flash of a memory: an image of someone lying on a sidewalk in a heap of dirty blankets and clothing. He quickly shook his head. He sincerely wished he could help the man, but he had nothing to offer. “No, I’m sorry; I don’t.” 

The man muttered as he walked away. Without thinking, Freddie sprinted down the stairs and onto the sidewalk. With no specific destination, he strode at a fast clip. He assumed the looks he got from passersby were due to his lack of mask rather than from being recognized as Freddie Mercury. For one, he was in ill-fitting blue jeans instead of one of his fantastical stage costumes. And his short hair was unkempt and curly, not at all how he would normally style it to go in public. And finally, there was the obvious issue of his entire anachronistic existence of being 32 in the year 2020. If I keep my mouth shut, no one could possibly guess who I am... especially since I died some twenty years ago. Freddie felt wretched, grumpy, and completely out of his element. 

When he realized he had been walking fast for several minutes, Freddie looked around, realizing he had not paid attention to any of the street names. He passed a newsstand, where he stopped to look at the newspapers for sale. I’m surprised they still make newspapers, with that Internet business. He leaned down to inspect the date on the paper, if for nothing else than to solidify his new twisted reality. September 4, 2020. The day before what would be my 74th birthday. 

“Buddy, this ain’t a library. Either buy somethin’ or move along,” said the vendor. 

Freddie scoffed, about to reply with an equally rude remark, but feeling too devastated to bother. He walked along, but soon realized he had no idea where he was. I didn’t turn at all, so if I just go back the way I came, I’ll arrive back to Amy’s.  But, as he doubled back, Freddie felt more disoriented than ever. He began to consider that he had made a huge mistake leaving Amy’s apartment. 

When he saw a police car drive slowly by, Freddie hesitated before waving it down. The cop rolled down the passenger window as he stalled beside Freddie. 

“Is there a problem?” The officer asked. 

Freddie shrugged. Seemingly infinite supply. “ I think I’m lost. I am trying to find a friend’s house. She lives near 23rd… West 23rd St.?”

The officer eyed him warily. “You don’t have the address?”

Freddie shook his head. “No, I only know it’s somewhere near 23rd.”

“Well, 23rd Street is pretty long. You’re gonna have to narrow it down. Can’t you just call your friend?” 

“I don’t have...um...a phone.” Or her phone number for that matter. This is humiliating. Why did I flag him down? To draw attention to the fact that I’m a mess?

The officer smirked a little, then looked Freddie up and down. He sighed.

“I could drive you around, to find it.” He motioned with his chin towards the back of the car.

Freddie thought that was incredibly generous of the officer. And truly, he did not see any other option at this point. But, before he could respond, he suddenly had a flashback of a police car. He closed his eyes, picturing it vividly: the street and the flash of police lights on a rainy night.

“Sir?” The officer interrupted.

Freddie felt foolish as he opened his eyes to see the officer eyeing him suspiciously. He thanked him, but denied the request for a ride, and quickly walked away. He was sufficiently embarrassed for one day. No need to top it off by climbing into the back of a police car like a criminal. 

But, fuck if he knew where he was going. He just walked along, hoping to recognize Amy’s place among all the other similar brownstones in the neighborhood. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for him to hear someone calling his name. Up ahead, he saw not only Amy standing in front of her steps, but Ace and Sergio as well. The three came rushing towards him. 

“Oh thank goodness,” said Amy, putting her arm around Freddie in a half-hug. 

“Amy called and told us you’d escaped.” Sergio shrieked. 

“Escaped? He’s not a prisoner.” Ace rolled his eyes. 

“You know what I mean!” Sergio replied. “We were worried to death, Freddie. We came over right away. We were just about to split up to go look for you. Amy was going to stay behind in case you came back.”

Although it was a bit much, Freddie was flattered by their concern.

“I’m all right. I needed to walk a bit.” 

Sergio shot a scathing look at Amy, then turned back to Freddie with concern. “I can imagine, after finding out that information! That’s why you should have stayed with us . I would never have let this happen.” 

“All right, Serg. Lay off me, will you?” Amy retorted. “I didn’t do it on purpose. It’s not like I’m trying to fuck everything up…”

“Well, if you’d stop trying to show off and impress him, then maybe…”

“OK!” Ace said firmly, silencing the two. “Are you two going to argue all day, or are you going to tell Freddie the good news?” 

“Good news?” Freddie asked. God, I could use some good news right about now.

Sergio spoke up, his voice quivering excitedly. “Brian replied to our email!”

Chapter Text

Freddie’s mouth dropped open. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, then grimaced. “Oh god, don’t tell me his reply was: sod off and never contact me again.” 

“Actually, we haven’t read it yet. We were waiting for you!” Sergio exclaimed, grinning. “That was my idea.” 

Freddie scoffed. “So, I’ll have you to blame when it goes to shit and you’ve gotten me all worked up for nothing?” 

Sergio’s smile dropped. 

“Bloody hell, just read the damn thing. Don’t drag this out.” Freddie sat down hard on the steps. 

Amy pulled out her phone and tapped a bit. 

“Here goes,” she said, crossing her fingers. “Brian writes: ‘Wow, I haven’t heard that name in ages. Now that you have my attention, what can I do for you, old friend ?’ Then he closes with just, ‘Bri’.” 

Freddie leaned forward. “After all that, he writes two lines?” He dropped his head into his hands and sighed. 

“But, I think it’s really him,” Amy offered. “That’s something! It wasn’t an automated reply, or one of his assistants or something. And he says we have his attention!” She glanced at Freddie, who rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m just trying to be positive.” 

Freddie clicked his tongue. “Oh, I know, darling,” he said quietly. He looked up with a sad smile. “Just hasn’t been my morning, you know.” 

Amy sat down beside Freddie. “C’mere,” she said, holding out her arms to him. 

Freddie accepted her embrace, which was not a polite half-hug, but a truly warm gesture of kindness. And, as cliche as it was, it made him feel better.  

“Ok, now, laddios, shall we take this little party back to your house?” Amy asked, looking at Sergio and Ace. “I think we’ve established that I’m a terrible fucking host.” 

By the time they’d gathered everything they needed and traveled back uptown, Freddie felt as though he’d been hit by a bus. He supposed his body was catching up to the intensity of his situation. Time travel is hard on the body. As they approached Ace and Sergio’s apartment, Freddie had a flashback. In it, he stood over someone who was obviously in distress, but he could not make out the details. It was all too fuzzy. Then, it was gone. What in the world happened? And why can’t I remember? 

“I brought the recordings of the song that we have so far,” Amy said to Freddie once they were inside. “We can use my computer to edit it, if you want.” 

Freddie nodded and yawned. “I don’t think I’ve napped since I was a child, but I guess those forty-two years I lost are catching up to me.”

Sergio overheard. “Freddie, you are welcome to lie down! Let me show you the guest room.”

Sergio led Freddie into the bedroom and motioned to the bed. “It’s more comfortable than it looks.” 

Uncharacteristically, Freddie didn’t wait, but sat down heavily on the bed. Sergio shut the door carefully behind him as he left.

As he dozed off, Freddie’s mind fixated on a woman’s face. His last thought before dozing off to sleep was that she looked a lot like the woman in the picture on Amy’s bed stand: Ace and Amy’s mother. 

Chapter Text

Freddie heard the clink of a glass and indistinct laughter. He sat up in bed and looked around. He had slept on top of the duvet, fully clothed, and he did not know for how long, although it was now dark outside. 

Freddie went to the door and opened it carefully. He could hear many voices laughing and talking, and music playing faintly in the background. 

Are they having a party?  How long was I asleep?

Before he could round the corner for the living room, he ran right into someone he recognized: Joe, his boyfriend. Freddie’s eyes got so wide that Joe grabbed him by the arm. 

“You all right, Freddie?” Joe asked softly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost. We’re about to head to Mineshaft. You ready?”

Freddie could not speak. Mineshaft. 

“Joe?” He asked hesitantly. 

“Yeah…” Joe’s eyes had now widened in concern.

“What year is it?” 

Joe’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “The year? What do you mean?”

“I mean what is the date today?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Freddie.” 

“The date, the date! What year is it?”

“Freddie, what are you on about?”

“Tell me what year it is!”

“Freddie! Freddie! Freddie!” 

Freddie woke with a gasp to see Amy, Sergio, and Ace standing over him. Ace was calling his name while the other two looked on with concerned expressions. 

“What…” Freddie swallowed hard, his eyes darting around. He was drenched in sweat and trembling. “What happened?” 

Amy stepped forward. “You were screaming, so we came in to see if you were okay. You were having some sort of nightmare.”

“Do you know what you dreamt of?” Sergio asked. 

Ace rolled his eyes. “Do you really think he wants to relive it?” He scoffed.

“I was back in 1978, I think,”Freddie began. “I saw my...I saw Joe. It was so real.” His eyes glistened. “He looked at me like I’d gone mad when I asked what year it was.” He rubbed his face with both hands. “I feel like I’m going mad right now. I have to get back.” He looked up and narrowed his eyes. “Let’s send the recording to Brian-- today.” 

Freddie folded his arms across his chest and shyly watched as Amy explained her computer program. She needn’t have bothered. It all sounded like Greek to him. But, when he heard the clear, sweet notes of the song coming out of the computer’s speakers, Freddie smiled and nodded. 

They tinkered around a bit, but left the recording mostly unpolished. Freddie did not have the energy to be a perfectionist at this point. He simply wanted to get home, as soon as he could. So, Amy did her magic with the electronic mail and sent the recording to Brian. 

Meanwhile, Sergio had set up a mat in the center of the room. 

“Don’t mind me, guys. If I don’t do my daily yoga, I’ll be off all day.”

Freddie eyed him curiously. “May I join you?”

Sergio’s hand flew to his chest. “Oh my gosh, yes, of course!” He ran to get a second mat and laid it down parallel to his. “I follow a YouTube video.” 

Freddie raised his eyebrows and shrugged. As if I know what that means.

Sergio grabbed the remote control and clicked around a few times as different things appeared on the screen. At once, Freddie gasped.

“Elton John!” 

One of the recently viewed videos was an Elton John interview from a couple years prior.

“Is that really Elton?” Freddie asked, moving closer to the screen. “I’d know her anywhere. But, she got fat!” 

Ace burst into laughter from behind them. 

Sergio frowned. “That’s not very nice,” he chided, clicking his tongue. “Elton is doing wonderful things for the community. He even has an AIDS charity…” His hand flew to his mouth. 

Chapter Text

To everyone’s relief, Freddie had not heard or paid attention to Sergio’s comment. He was busy pointing to the screen and laughing into his hand. 

“God, I can’t believe Elton gets to live to old age. Good for her! At least one of us does.”

Sergio looked behind him and saw Ace and Amy with their eyes wide, giving him looks that said: that was close. He grinned sheepishly, and quickly scrolled past the interview with Elton.

Freddie bit his lip and sighed, a pensive look replacing the amused one. 

“You know what, Sergio,” he said quietly. “I’m not in the mood for yoga. Thank you, though, darling.” 

He turned. “Excuse me, will you?” He said, slowly walking towards the bathroom, his head down. He closed the door softly behind him. 

“Fuck, Sergio, that was close,” Amy said quietly, slapping his shoulder.

“Hey!” He whispered through his teeth, rubbing his shoulder. “ I’m not the one who told him he dies in the future. And I’m not the one who let him find out what year he dies.” He glared. “So,  back off. Besides, he didn’t even hear me. Not that he would even know what I was talking about.”

“So then why did he look like he was about to cry?” 

“Oh, I don’t know: for all the reasons I just mentioned?” Sergio replied sarcastically. 

Just then, they heard the sound of water running in the bathroom. 

Amy and Sergio exchanged confused expressions. 

“Should we check on him?” Amy asked, wringing her hands. 

“Oh for god’s sake, leave the man alone,” Ace said, falling back on the couch. “He’s not a child. Let him shit in peace.”

Sergio opened his mouth in disbelief. 

“Yes, yes, I said it: Freddie Mercury shits!” He threw his arms in the air, then softened his voice. “He’s just a man, Serg. He’s just a man who woke up and found himself in the wrong century. And he has nowhere to go besides this apartment, with us - god help him. Look what happened when he tried to take a stroll down the street. You all panicked like it was the end of the world.” 

Sergio scoffed, about to protest, but Ace continued.

“What are you afraid he’s going to do? Drown himself in the bathtub? I think we all need to lay off him a little bit. Imagine if you couldn’t even go to the toilet without three relative strangers watching your every step.”

Amy nodded. “Well, when you put it that way, it sounds kind of messed up. I mean, I guess you’re right. When he slept in my bed last night…” 

“Wait, what!” Sergio shrieked. “He slept in your bed? Amy, are you serious?” He clasped his hands on either side of his head.

“Calm down,” Amy rolled her eyes. “We didn’t do anything.”

“Well, that was probably more his decision than yours.” He looked her up and down.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Amy tilted her head, narrowing her eyes at Sergio.

“All right, enough!” Ace yelled. “Do I have to play referee every time you get into the same room with one another? You would think you two are the siblings in this situation. Sheesh.”

Just then, they heard a distinctive ding from Amy’s computer. They all turned slowly and looked at one another with raised eyebrows. 

Amy rushed over and frantically pulled up her email. She gasped and shook her fists in excitement, before turning to the guys and nodding.

“It’s from Brian!” 

Chapter Text

“Please read it before you go bothering Freddie about it,” Ace suggested. “I don’t think surprises are very helpful at this stage.” 

Amy nodded, then read aloud. 

“Wow, I have not thought about that song in a while. Very impressed. In fact, I have a few questions for you. Call me.”

Amy turned, her mouth agape. “He left his phone number.”

Sergio squealed. “Brian May’s phone number!?” 

He and Amy grasped each other’s hands in excitement.

“So, now they’re best friends again…” muttered Ace, shaking his head.

Amy looked over towards the bathroom. She didn’t wait for anyone to tell her no, but instead headed over and knocked on the door, turning back to the men with a joyful grin.

“Freddie,” she called. 

There was no response. She looked back at the guys, her eyebrows furrowed.

“Freddie!” She said louder, knocking again.

“Yeah!” Freddie yelled from inside. “It’s unlocked.” 

Amy frowned and looked back at Sergio, who put his hands up and shrugged. She pushed open the door slowly. 

There was Freddie, lying in a bubble bath, grinning like a child. 

“I just love baths,” he sighed, as Amy closed the door behind her.

Amy was unsure how to respond, and tried desperately to avert her eyes from straying to the water. Although he was fully covered in a thick layer of suds, Freddie was undeniably naked under there.

“Oh, don’t be shy. I don’t have anything you haven’t seen before.”

When he saw Amy’s expression, he laughed heartily. 

“Now, why have you come in here to interrupt my delicious soak?”

Amy sat on the closed toilet lid and glanced down. Freddie’s knees stuck up out of the water, but he looked infinitely more relaxed than he had been earlier. 

“Well, Brian replied, and told us to call him. He gave us his phone number!” 

Freddie hit the water with his hand and splashed soapy bubbles across the floor. 

“Excellent! So, let me just get out of here and we’ll phone him right away!” 

He started to stand, and Amy jumped up. 

“I’ll just…” she started for the door. “Leave you to it.” From the corner of her eye she saw he was already standing and reaching for a towel. 

Amy stepped outside and had to laugh. Freddie was a lot of things, but he was certainly not modest. 

“So?” Sergio asked excitedly when she got back. 

“He was in the bath,” Amy responded, with a chuckle. 

Sergio’s eyes widened, then his face went through a series of expressions. 

“He’s coming out now, so we can place a call. It should be about 8pm in England now, if that’s where Brian is.”

Freddie came out, barefoot, a towel around his waist. 

“All right!” He clapped his hands together. “I hate to ask you again, Sergio, but will you lend me some more clothes? I’ll pay you back someday, dear.” 

Once Freddie had dressed himself and toweled his damp hair, he squeezed in with the others on the couch. Amy sat in the middle holding her cell phone. 

“Ok, here goes.” She dialed the numbers, then crossed her fingers as she pressed send. 

After several rings, the four on the couch felt disheartened to realize Brian may not answer at all. Then, finally:

“Yes, this is Brian.”

Amy’s face lit up and she grinned goofily. 

“Hi, I’m Amy. I sent you the email earlier, with the sound recording…”

“Ah, yes, Amy. Thanks for calling. Just a moment…”

She had Brian on speakerphone, so they all heard shuffling and then his voice came into the receiver clearer than before.

“All right. First thing’s first: how did you come by that song? I don’t recall ever having recorded it or released any part of it.” 

Amy looked over at Freddie, who sat with his hand over his mouth. 

“Well, that’s the, uh, thing,” Amy started. “It’s a little hard to explain.”

“And that voice ,” Brian said. “Well, the fellow you have singing is incredible. It’s uncanny how close he sounds to…”

“Bri,” Freddie spoke up. “Bri, it’s me.”

There was no sound on the other line for a second.

“Hello? Who’s that?”

“It’s me, Freddie,” the singer said, taking the phone from Amy and speaking close to the screen. “Something strange has happened, Brimi. I went to sleep in 1978 and I woke up here and now. I don’t even…”

“How dare you?” Brian interrupted in a stern voice. “This is a cruel and despicable joke to play on someone.”

“Brian, wait! It’s me. Don’t hang up!” He flailed his hands out, silently imploring the others to intervene, but they sat helpless. 

Then, Amy snapped her fingers, and blurted out, “We could do a video call, to prove it!” 

“Please, Brian, I need your help,” Freddie continued. “You owe me. I lied to Chrissy to save your arse when you had that Spanish girl over.  But, bloody good it did. They told me you and Chrissy split up.”

There was silence on the other end of the call, and they worried that Brian may have hung up. 

Then, they heard a soft chuckle. “My god. That Spanish girl. All right, I’ll give you five minutes to make this make sense. Just give me a minute to find my glasses.”

Chapter Text

While Amy disconnected to do whatever was necessary to make a “video call”, Freddie allowed his thoughts to drift. Brian was in his 70s now, by all accounts an old man. Freddie felt a twinge of trepidation at the thought of seeing his friend suddenly aged forty decades. After all, the last time Freddie had laid eyes on Brian, the guitarist was thirty-one years old, as cheeky as a teenager, with that wild mop of brown curls framing his face. Am I actually ready for this? But, what choice did he have? Brian was the only link to his past, to a reality that seemed more and more like a dream with each passing hour.

“Ready, Freddie?” Amy asked, and Freddie looked up suddenly.

Ready Freddie. 

“Yes, yes, of course!” Freddie snapped back to the present, nodding. 

Amy held up the phone and pressed a button. Her face appeared on the screen, and Freddie watched with fascination. 

Video calls. His head spun with the possibilities of such technology. True to form, most of his initial thoughts were mischievous and improper. Goodness knows, video calls could make long-distance relationships infinitely easier. He imagined how different his relationship with Joe could be if they had video calls in 1978. 

Then, suddenly, the small screen lit up with the unmistakable face of Brian May. 

Freddie opened his mouth in a surprised laugh. 

“Hello, Brian. It’s Amy,” Amy said, waving. 

Then, before Brian could respond, she turned the phone so that Freddie appeared on the screen. The singer saw a small box of his own image in the corner, and a larger one of Brian. Amy handed him the phone.

“My god, Brain!” Freddie could not help but interject. “Look at you!”

Brian squinted and shook his head. 

Freddie turned to Amy, grinning unabashedly.

When Freddie looked back at the screen, he saw Brian’s eyes wide and his mouth agape.

Freddie covered his smile with his top lip, and leaned closer to the screen to get a better look at his friend, who appeared to be dumbstruck.

“Say something, will you, Bri?” Freddie said, grinning once again. “They told me you were a fucking astrophysicist. You clever-clogs! My one question is: if you’re so smart, why the hell are you still styling your hair like a bloody poodle?” 

Brian’s chin dropped as he stared at Freddie through the screen. His eyebrows scrunched together and he let out a hitching half-laugh, half-sob. 

“What is this?” He asked, voice quavering. 

“Who the hell knows,” Freddie replied. “Do you believe that it’s me now, or do I have to pull out my cock and prove it?” 

Brian burst into a fit of laughter that quickly turned into sobs. 

“My god!” He said, through tears, his chest heaving. “How?” 

Freddie wanted to reach through the screen and pull Brian into a hug, and it felt almost criminal that he could not. 

“You tell me,” Freddie said quietly. 

Brian’s face contorted in tearful incredulity. 

“Don’t fall apart on me now, Maggie May. I need you more than ever,” Freddie said, holding back his own tears. 

“I can’t believe this,” Brian finally said. “In fact, I think I must be hallucinating.” 

“Imagine how I feel! When I woke up in this whacky century, I thought someone had drugged me, darling!”

Brian leaned closer to the screen. “God, Fred, it’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you terribly.” He bowed his head forward. 

“Yeah, they told me,” Freddie nodded. “I always knew it, didn’t I?” He whispered, close to the screen, forgetting the other three were in the room. “It’s better to burn out than fade away, though, right? I was never meant to make old bones.”

“No, Fred. That’s not…”

The singer interrupted. “Can you help me get back to 1978?” 

Brian took off his glasses to wipe his eyes, then put them back on. “I’m a scientist, not a magician.” 

Ace raised his hands. “I said the same thing!” 

Sergio shushed him. “Not helpful,” he mouthed.

“Really, Freddie. Time travel is not my forte,” Brian continued. “Despite writing ‘39, I am not exactly a time-travel expert.”

“Well, you’re the best I have right now, Brimi.”

Freddie looked into the screen at his friend, or at least the version of his friend flashed forward four decades. The curly haired guitarist, with the same kind hazel eyes, looked back at him, barely able to contain his emotions. 

“Ok, Freddie. I’ll try my best. I’m going to get a flight to you as soon as I can.”

Chapter Text

“I may have to find a private plane, though,” Brian added. “I’m sure they’ve explained the pandemic to you.” 

Freddie nodded. “God yes. I couldn’t have come at a worse time, could I?” 

The guitarist stared through the screen again, shaking his head slowly. 

“You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamed of you...dreamed of talking with you just one more time...imagined what I’d say if I could go back in time.” Brian said, closing his eyes. 

“Well?” replied Freddie. “What have you come up with?”

Brian shrugged and sighed. “At the end of the day...just that I love you.” 

Freddie’s breath hitched in his throat, and, not one to cry in front of people, he pressed his lips together and didn’t speak. Truthfully, he couldn’t speak, or else his voice would crack and give away the gigantic lump in his throat. Instead, he simply nodded and swallowed hard.

Clearing his throat, Freddie spoke at last. “All right, no more misery guts. I’m here now. And you’re there, all grey and wrinkly.” 

Brian jokingly put up his middle finger. 

“Tell me, Bri, do your balls really sag when you get older, or is that an old wives’ tale?”

“Fuck off!” 

They were back to their usual banter, just as though no time had passed at all. 

“Oh, but what about Roger and Deaky?” Freddie said suddenly. “You must invite them along. We’ll have a little reunion.”

Brian seemed reluctant to answer right away. His face went through a few different expressions. 

“What is it? They’re still alive aren’t they?” Freddie clutched his hand to his heart. 

“Yes, yes,” Brian responded. “John hasn’t… Well, John doesn’t come around as often.” He furrowed his brows and looked at Freddie through the screen. “When you...oh god how strange...when you were …gone, he was never the same after.” 

Freddie hummed in response. “Well, shit. What about Roger?”

“Yeah Roger is still around. Did they…” Brian motioned with his hand to indicate the other three. “Did they tell you about what we’re doing with the band now?”

Freddie raised his eyebrows and turned to Amy, Ace, and Sergio, who sat rapt, watching the conversation.

“No, they certainly did not.”

“We still tour, Freddie. Well, not this year. The pandemic put a cork in everyone’s plans. But yes, Roger and I do Queen songs.”

“Well, who the bloody hell sings for you?” Freddie said, quite animatedly. 

“First of all, no one, and I mean no one could ever replace you, Fred. Not in a million years. But, our singer’s name is Adam. We even call it Queen + Adam Lambert, and not just Queen. He’s a good lad, Freddie. You’d like him.” 

Freddie pursed his lips and squinted his eyes. “Well, god dammit Brian. I never knew you to be such a rat bastard!” 

Brian’s mouth fell open and he sat stunned for a few seconds. Then Freddie burst into laughter. 

“Oh dear, you should have seen your face!” He laughed, holding his belly with the hand that wasn’t holding the phone. 

Brian sighed and shook his head while Freddie regained his composure.

“You know, I don’t give a light who sings our songs. I’m just chuffed they’re still being sung in this day and age. But, I’ll tell you one thing: this Adam fellow can’t be half as handsome as I am.” He slapped his own cheek and grinned. 

Although both men could have easily talked all night, Brian said he had to disconnect so that he could get right on the phone to find a flight to New York City as soon as possible. 

Chapter Text

When they disconnected, Freddie stared at the screen for a few seconds before handing it back to Amy. She touched Freddie’s arm gently. 

“You okay? That was a lot.” 

Freddie turned and nodded. “Yes, dear. Thank you. I’m not sure how I feel. This is all quite outlandish. I mean, who is Adam Lambert?”

Freddie felt sincerely honored that Queen’s music had outlived even himself, but he could not help but feel a twinge of an emotion he had trouble identifying. Was it jealousy? 

Sergio piped up. “Well, would you like to see some videos of Adam performing with Queen?” 

“No!” Freddie said quickly. “I mean, not yet. I need to take all this in before I see my replacement .”

Amy shook her head. “Like Brian said, Adam is not your replacement. Come on, how could anyone replace you?” She bumped his shoulder. “You’re an icon.” 

“Keep on, dear,” Freddie said. “I simply love to have my ego stroked.”

Freddie had seen 31 year old Brian a matter of days ago, in 1978.  So, seeing him in his 70s jarred Freddie. But, Freddie realized the interaction had been quite different from Brian’s point of view. Present day Brian had not seen Freddie in nearly thirty-years, and certainly not Freddie back from the dead . He was surprised the guitarist did not faint or have some sort of convulsion. In fact, he was shocked Brian even believed him at all, instead of scoffing it off as some elaborate prank. I guess he knows me too well to doubt that I am who I say I am.

The question of his own death plagued Freddie, though. Now that he knew he died in 1991 at age 45, he did the mental addition and concluded that in 1978, he only had thirteen years left on the planet. Thirteen years. 

Meanwhile, Sergio could not contain his excitement. He had begun to dart around the house frantically.

“Brian May is coming here? I mean, is he? Will he come right up to this apartment? Or do you think he’ll want to meet us somewhere? Oh God, Ace, you have to help me clean up here.” 

Ace sighed. “Calm down. I don’t think the cleanliness of our home is going to be the focal point of a meeting between Freddie Mercury and Brian May.” He shook his head. “Jesus, I can’t believe that sentence just came out of my mouth.” 

“Should we give him our bed? What do you think he likes to eat?” Sergio ignored his husband, wringing his hands.

Freddie overheard and called over his shoulder, “Brian is a vegetarian…. Well, he was in ‘78.” 

Sergio gasped in delight. “Wonderful, good info!” He scurried off in a tizzy. Then he popped his head back around the corner and added, “we’ll do vegan, just in case!” 

Freddie could not help but chuckle at Sergio’s excitement. But, he also felt a pang of dread. What if Brian could not help him after all? What if the whole mission was an exercise in futility? 

Chin up, Mercury. That’s not the way to think. 

If he had to stay in the year 2020, would it really be so bad?  Men could marry other men. One hand-sized gadget had replaced cameras, televisions, telephones, and god knows what else.  Besides the deadly virus, which was, admittedly, quite alarming, the future seemed a relatively decent place. Except, he would be alone if he stayed. Sure, he had Amy, Ace, and Sergio, and possibly the remaining members of the band, all in their 70s. But, everyone else… Freddie stopped himself from finishing that thought. It was too dark. And anyway, Brian would help. Freddie would likely be back in 1978 in no time, thinking this was all some fever dream. In the meantime, he could learn a bit about the future--a future he would never get to experience.

Ace sat on the end of the couch, staring intently into his gadget. Freddie called his name, and he glanced up. 

“Do you mind if I ask you about…?”

Amy had left the room, presumably to help Sergio in his frenzied preparations. 

“That is, how is it… being… well, being with a man. For you?” He stuttered, not quite sure of his own question. 

Ace looked up and scratched his head, turning to Freddie. 

“How do I like being gay?” 

Freddie put his hand on his mouth for a moment, then made a half-shrug. “I suppose what I meant to ask is: how do people treat you? Sergio mentioned before that people are more open minded. I just wondered, erm…”

“Ah, yes,” Ace replied, setting down his phone. “Well, in New York City, we’re a dime a dozen.” He laughed then smiled sincerely at Freddie. “It’s still hard for a lot of people, Freddie. It sort of depends where you are, who you’re around. Lucky for me, my mother was always my biggest ally. She knew I was gay before I did. When I came out to her, she said ‘I was wondering when you’d tell me!’”

Freddie’s mouth fell open. Ace’s own mother loved him, accepted him, regardless.

“That’s not to say I didn’t get shit in school. Kids can be cruel. I didn’t have it as bad as Sergio did, though. I don’t really come across especially gay, if you know what I mean…” He shrugged. “I learned really quickly how to code switch . Oh, you won’t be familiar with that term… um, I learned how to blend in.” 

Freddie knew exactly what he meant, but he had never taken the time to think about it before. It was like tiny pinpricks of recognition were hitting him all over his skin. He had always been different: his demeanor, his mannerisms, his very way of being. At some point, he had realized those things separated him from other people, made him different. He learned how to present himself so that those attributes stayed hidden, or were passed off as performative or camp . Just another part of his act. 

He wanted to ask a million things, but he had no words for the feelings inside of him. 

“Ace!” Sergio called, dashing into the room. “Help me here! I’m about to do a grocery order.” 

Ace scoffed, turning. “Can’t you see we’re in the middle of a conversation?” 

Freddie patted him on the leg. “It’s all right, dear. Go ahead. Thank you for the talk.” 

Ace nodded. Then, he stood up slowly, sighing at Sergio. “All right, all right, what do you want me to do?” 

Before his husband dragged him away, Ace looked back over his shoulder at Freddie and smiled.

Chapter Text

Amy announced that Brian had texted her and said he would arrive the following day at around 2pm, and that he had already made accommodations. Sergio, despite all his worry, was disappointed that Brian wouldn’t be staying the night. 

“I mean, he could have used our bed, couldn’t he, Ace?”  He huffed. “Amy, did you let him know?”  

“No, Serg, I did not tell Brian May that he could sleep in your bed.”

Sergio threw his hands up. “Well I just don’t see why our place wouldn’t work for him…”

“The dude is a famous rock star. Why would he want to sleep in someone else’s bed, for god's sake? During Covid no less,” Ace interrupted. “Besides, just an hour ago, you were pulling your hair out worrying that our sheets didn’t have a high enough thread count for him.”

Sergio groaned and stomped off. A few seconds later, he reappeared. 

“So when is he arriving here?”

Amy shook her head. “Well, Ace is right. Brian is concerned about Covid, so … he’d prefer we met somewhere else.”

Sergio squealed in frustration. “So, I bought all that vegan cheese for nothing!” He hissed, storming out. 

“ Vegan cheese ?” Freddie whispered, raising his eyebrows. 

 Ace shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I just live here.”

Liza, the cat, found her way to Freddie again, and settled on his lap while he flipped through a magazine. He was surprised magazines still existed, with all the outrageous technology at every turn. The glossy pages were chock full of good looking men in interesting fashions. Freddie pored over the clothing, and his eyes widened when he saw a man wearing a skirt. He was not in drag, nor was playing a role or eliciting a laugh. This man wore the garment unabashedly, with his chin raised, one hand on his hip, staring confidently into the camera. Freddie shuffled, bringing both legs up onto the couch. Liza meowed in protest as she hopped off his lap. 

“Sorry, lovey,” Freddie muttered distractedly.

He was spellbound as he flipped through the pages, lingering on the bare torsos of the men there. If he stayed in the future long enough, he would have to meet someone, he thought. He felt a pang of guilt about Joe, but surely he would understand—considering the circumstances. 

“Oh, I love that issue,” Ace said from behind him.

Freddie snapped the magazine shut.

“You’re welcome to keep it.” He put a hand on Freddie’s shoulder. “There are some great articles in there.”

“Ah, yes, I’ll have to take a look at the articles.” Freddie nodded, blushing. 

Amy updated the guys on Brian’s plans. He sent the address to a conference space where he wanted to meet, so they could practice social distancing. Amy took a moment to describe the concept to Freddie, who looked on in awe. 

Sergio had begun to prepare a meal with all the vegan cheese that had been delivered to the apartment. Freddie watched as Ace pulled up a program called Netflix on the television. 

“What would you like to watch, Freddie?” 

Freddie corked one eyebrow up. “I wouldn’t know where to begin, my dear,” he sighed. 

“There’s a show called The Crown, about the royal family. Queen Elizabeth 2 and her family, through the years. Not exactly my style, but Sergio loves it. Then, there’s the Great British Bake Off…” 

“I see the Brits have taken over television,” Freddie laughed, clapping his hands. “I never would have guessed.” 

Liza had come back up to join him, and he cradled her affectionately. “You know I don’t care about all that. Just watch what you like. I’m busy with Ms. Manelli here.” He stroked her fur and relished her soft purr. He missed his own cats, and wondered if they were okay in the past. He hoped he had not disappeared into thin air, leaving them all alone. If so, surely someone would go over and check on the little darlings. 

Ace chose a program and settled back to watch it, while Freddie closed his eyes. His brain conjured an image of that woman again: Amy and Ace’s mother. His eyes shot open. He had met her before. Somewhere . 

The next morning, Freddie awoke in the guest bedroom, stretching his arms above his head and grinning when he remembered that he would see Brian that day. He hopped out of bed and tossed on a robe Sergio had loaned him. He slipped open the door and sauntered into the sitting room.

“Happy birthday!” 

He had all but forgotten his birthday, but obviously the three of them had not. Amy, Ace, and Sergio stood beaming at him. He covered his mouth with his hand and laughed. How very sweet of them. 

“Oh, you lovely darlings!” He giggled. 

“Come on, I’ve made breakfast,” Sergio said, taking Freddie’s arm.

When they arrived in the kitchen, Freddie was touched to see that Sergio had prepared lovely buckwheat pancakes with freshly made raspberry coulis, fluffy scrambled eggs, and a pot of Earl Grey. The table was set with fresh flowers. Freddie marveled at how three relative strangers had made him feel so welcome in such a short time. 

“You’re all such dears,” Freddie said, sipping his tea. “I cannot thank you enough for this surprise.” 

“That’s not all!” Amy said, standing. “We got you something else.” She hurried out of sight and returned a few minutes later holding a small box and handed it to Freddie.

“Goodness, you had no business buying me a gift!” He said softly. He was far more touched than he could ever articulate, especially when he lifted the lid of the box and saw what was inside. 

Chapter Text

Inside the box was a cuff style silver bracelet engraved with swimming koi fish. Freddie reached down and ran his finger along the intricate, subtle detail of the piece.

“They’re koi fish,” Sergio pointed out. “I read that they are a symbol of all sorts of things, including friendship.”

Freddie looked up, nodding. “When we were in Japan, I fell in love with them. I promised myself I’d have my own koi pond one day.” He carefully slid the bracelet on his wrist. “It’s lovely. I adore it.”

Sergio smiled brightly. “I’m so glad. And, when you get back to 1978, maybe, since it’s on your body, it’ll go with you…”

“Wow,” Freddie said, sighing happily. “You all have spoiled me today! And I get to see Brian later. What a birthday! Not bad for 32.”

While Sergio cleared the table, Freddie approached Amy.

“How in the world did you all find this so quickly?” He asked, turning his wrist to admire the bracelet.

Amy smirked. “Well, Freddie, 2020 is good like that. You can get almost anything you want at a moment’s notice.”

Freddie silently wished he had traveled to the future in something more than the flimsy shorts that now sat folded in a chair in Sergio and Ace’s guest bedroom. As if reading his mind, Sergio came up and put a hand on Freddie’s shoulder.

“You’re welcome to ransack my closet and find yourself something to wear. Seriously, be my guest.”

Freddie settled on a pair of black trousers and a short-sleeved, button down shirt with a funky colorful pattern. When he emerged, Sergio clapped his hands together.

“I love that shirt! I found it at a vintage resale shop. It’s very 80s, isn’t it?” Then he giggled. “Well, not that you would know!”

When they arrived at the conference space, clad in masks, there were chairs placed apart. Six feet apart to be exact, according to Ace.

Just as Freddie was sitting down, he saw someone enter the room to his right. He turned and his eyes landed on a fluff of grey hair.

“Brian,” he whispered, jumping up from his chair.

Brian stopped in the doorway. Though Freddie could not see his face under his mask, his eyes were already shiny with tears.

“Freddie?” He called.

“Yes, darling, it’s me!” Freddie strode closer, his heart pounding. “Listen, Bri, I don’t give a damn about this six-feet business. I hope that’s okay…”

Before he could finish, Brian had stepped forward and enveloped him in a tight embrace. Freddie wrapped his arms around his friend and felt the sobs wracking his body, aged by decades but so familiar.

“I’m so sorry, Freddie. I’m so sorry,” Brian wept.

“For what, dear?” Freddie asked, his voice muffled inside his mask. “Oh, bugger this bloody mask,” he said, ripping it off and sighing.

Brian pulled back and took his own mask off.

“I don’t know. Everything.”

Freddie took in Brian’s tear stained face. “Why, you have no reason to be sorry.” He chuckled. “Look at you. You’re just the same.” He leaned back a bit. “Still wearing the clogs, I see.” He shook his head in amusement.

“I’m an old man,” Brian sniffed. “Something you never got to be.” He squeezed his eyes shut against another wave of tears.

For once, Freddie did not have a clever remark. He simply nodded.

Once Freddie had introduced Brian to Ace, Amy, and Sergio, the five of them sat in their distanced chairs. The other four chatted briefly amongst themselves about a vaccine against the novel virus. Freddie could barely keep up. Brian kept looking over at Freddie the entire time, always with a look of melancholic fascination.

Finally, the subject turned to Freddie’s strange appearance in the twenty-first century. Brian asked questions, all while scribbling in a notebook.

“What were you doing the night you … time traveled?” Brian said, huffing out a laugh. “I cannot believe I’m saying that.”

Freddie laughed. “I’d just been out to a...club,” he said, and stopped. Brian did not approve of the types of clubs Freddie frequented. “With a few friends.” He looked down. “And Joe Fanelli was there. He’s a...friend of mine. Was. Is?”

“Oh dear, yes, Joe,” Brian sighed, and Freddie’s face snapped up.

“What?” He asked, staring at Brian. “Why did you say it like that, Bri?”

When Brian could not meet his eye, Freddie leaned forward, elbows on knees.

“Dear god,” he said into his hands. Then, abruptly, he stood and began to pace. “What the fuck. Why is this happening? Brian, what do I do?”

Brian stood and joined Freddie. He stood beside him and grasped his hand.

“I don’t know why this happened. But we’re going to figure it out and everything will be alright.”

“Joe isn’t just a friend, Brian,” Freddie whispered. It was the first time he had said anything of the sort to him.

“I know, dear,” Brian said, squeezing his hand.

Freddie glanced up, expecting to feel shame or even fear at something so personal coming to light in front of Brian. Yet he only felt relief.

“I love him,” he said airily, feeling a lightness in his chest. “Is he gone?”

Brian took both his hands and rubbed Freddie’s.

“Let’s not go down this road.”

“Brian. Is Joe dead?”

After a moment, his eyes closed, Brian nodded.

Freddie took a deep breath. “I have to get back. I have to see him again. I have to tell him…” He let himself fall forward, into Brian’s arms. The tears he had held for days came pouring out, beyond his control. He sobbed quietly against his friend’s shoulder.

After his emotional moment, Freddie felt sufficiently embarrassed. He mentally thanked Amy, Ace, and Sergio for politely looking away when he wiped his eyes and straightened himself up.

“All right, everyone. Let’s talk astrophysics,” Brian said, clapping his hands together.

“Nerd!” Freddie called out, and everyone laughed, breaking the melancholic mood.

Brian had already sketched out a very complicated little page full of equations and charts with lines going this way and that. It made Freddie’s head hurt just looking at it. He sat and chewed on a fingernail while Brian held up his sketches to show them, like a teacher reading to a class of primary school children.

“Once you get finished, can you translate all that in English, dear?” Freddie interrupted once, rolling his eyes good-naturedly.

Brian started to say something, then sighed. “Oh, I knew this was too much. Sorry about that. I got a little carried away last night. So, we’re all familiar with the theory of special relativity, right?”

Freddie raised his eyebrows, so Brian nodded and continued. “Alright. So, there is no absolute frame of reference for anything on earth. We must measure everything in relation to something else. Usually that frame of reference works best when it is constant. Unchanging. One such constant is the speed of light. Are you with me?”

Freddie stifled a yawn, but nodded. The others nodded tentatively.

“Time moves slower the faster you travel. This goes even for trains or airplanes, too, folks. Although the difference is minute, there is a difference. Now imagine the speed of light, which is far times faster than a 747 jet.” Brian stopped and ran his hand through his curls. “You see, the fact that you came forward in time actually makes more sense than if you would have come back…” His eyes went back and forth as he got lost in deep thought. “As for going back...that is where the difficulty lies.”

“Shit,” Freddie said. “I understood that bit!”

“What we need to discover is how you traveled so exponentially faster than the speed of light—”

“Or why,” Amy interjected. “Sorry to interrupt, Dr. May—”

“Brian,” he corrected, waving his hand to signal her to continue.

“Brian,” she said with a smile, sitting up taller in her seat. “Well, forgive me, but maybe the matter of getting Freddie back to 1978 does not depend on high level science at all. Maybe it’s more emotional. Maybe it’s something that cannot be measured.”

“Ah, metaphysics,” Brian nodded. “Philosophy of space and time, if you will,” he said, nodding.

“Right,” Amy said. “Maybe there was an emotional event, or some life-changing occurrence, that caused Freddie to wake up in 2020. Maybe there’s a reason he’s here after all.”

“Or maybe I’m having a very vivid and never-ending nightmare,” Freddie said with a huff.

Amy smiled sympathetically at him. “Sorry to be personal, Freddie, but did anything traumatizing happen the night before you arrived here?”

Without warning, Freddie got a perfect picture of headlights shining on an immobile figure lying in the street, rain pouring down upon it. Just as quickly, it was gone.

He nodded quickly. “I think it did. But I don’t have a memory of the night beyond heading to the club with some friends, and then being back at the flat, deliriously drunk. Everything in between is hazy. We took a taxi to get there, I know that. And we all jammed into the back, pressed up close against one another. Joe, and I, plus someone else…”

“I could hypnotize you!” Sergio said, jumping up.

“Oh, for god’s sake.” Ace tilted his head back and sighed heavily. “You don’t know how to do that.”

“I saw a YouTube video!” Sergio pouted, crossing his arms. “It looked easy enough.”

“You’ll fuck him up even more!” Ace responded.

Brian laughed from his chair and rubbed his face. “Oh, my, this is quite amusing. By the way, is anyone hungry? Do you think we could get a pizza up here?”

Ace nodded. “Great idea, Brian. I’ll order. What would you like?”

“A veggie pizza is fine,” Brian answered. “But can you make sure it has vegan cheese?”

Chapter Text

With his belly full of veggie pizza, Freddie nodded at Brian. 

“So, are you going to tell me how I die?” 

Brian had just taken a sip of water and he coughed and sputtered at Freddie’s question.

“Sorry, darling,” Freddie said. “But, I’m getting impatient here.  I know you don’t want to tell me, but I think I deserve to know. Maybe there’s something I can do to prevent it.”

Sergio’s face contorted and he started to speak.

“I know,” Freddie interrupted. “You’re going to tell me that if I fuck with the universe, it will change the course of human history—but this is my life. I didn’t ask to show up in the dystopian future. Now you’ve gone and told me I don’t even make it past forty-five years old, and you expect me to swallow it all down without a second thought?” Freddie stood and began to pace. “Then you drop it on me that my Joe…” he couldn't finish, and took a deep breath. “Well, if one of you doesn’t tell me, I’ll find out on my own.” He spun on his heels and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the other four. 

Brian sighed. “I was afraid of this. I feel morally conflicted about this, Freddie. I can’t articulate what it is that makes me uneasy, because—frankly, I thought time travel was physically impossible until now.”

Freddie waved him along impatiently. “Don’t get long winded on me now, for God’s sake.” 

Brian huffed out a chuckle and nodded. “I’m afraid of the implications of putting that information into your head. If—” he glanced at Freddie— “when you go back to 1978, knowing this information could have a dramatic impact on—”

Freddie let out a mighty roar in the large room and had all eyes on him immediately. 

“Just tell me! I’m not a child. And I will use Amy’s Inter-world to find out if I have to!”

Amy frowned, then she snapped her fingers and whispered to herself: “oh, the Internet.”

“All right,” Ace spoke up. He rubbed his hand over his face. “It’s a virus.”

The room was eerily silent for several seconds, until Freddie shook his head and spoke up. He thought Ace must have been referring to what had everyone masked up and walking around like surgeons.

“What?” he asked.

“What caused your…well, you contracted a virus, Freddie.” 

Ace’s gaze was steady, and his voice reassuringly calm.

“It’s transmitted through blood.” 

Freddie’s shoulders dropped. 

“And semen—sexual fluids. It’s transmitted mostly through sex.”

Freddie’s hand floated up to his mouth, but he still couldn’t make sense of it.

“Well, herpes is a virus, isn’t it? I never heard of it killing anyone.” He laughed wryly, but it echoed flatly in the quiet room. 

“This virus attacks the immune system. It destroys your body’s ability to fight off infections.” 

He spoke slowly, but Freddie was grateful, because his head spun.

“Here, sit down,” Amy suggested. 

Freddie looked at her and registered what she said seconds later. Then, he fell into the chair, his chest heaving. 

“Okay, so I got a virus and I got it through sex?” 

Ace nodded. “Most likely. You can also get it through sharing blood in any way. Through needles, blood transfusions, or any time when you have enough contact with the blood of a person who has the virus.” 

Freddie put his hand up. “Okay that’s enough. Thank you, dear.” 

He did not mean to be sarcastic. Truly he appreciated the information, but he could only process one thing at a time. 

Ace nodded, his face conveying his understanding. 

“So, is there a vaccine for this thing, or a cure?” Freddie finally asked.

Ace shook his head. “There are medications that can keep the virus from affecting the body, and in ideal cases, can cause it to become undetectable in the blood. That is a major breakthrough that allows people living with the virus to lead normal lives—and can prevent them from passing it to other people. Unfortunately, some people don’t realize they have it until the virus has already destroyed their immune system beyond repair. It’s still a global health crisis, especially for people in places affected by poverty or lack of access to medical care or medications.” 

Ace sounded like a doctor, or a spokesperson. He was so knowledgeable that it sounded like he was reading from a script. 

“It’s called HIV. Human Immunodeficiency Virus,” Ace said with a curt nod. “In fact...I'm HIV positive.”

Freddie’s mouth came open in surprise. Ace didn’t look ill at all. 

“I take medications every day, and I’m happy to say I’ve been undetectable for years now.” He turned to Sergio and smiled. 

Sergio returned the smile. 

“The medicines came too late, Freddie.” His face changed, and Freddie saw that his eyes were shiny. “The medicines came too late for a lot of people.” He brought his hand to his mouth and cleared his throat, obviously trying to hold back his emotion. “I’ll tell you more later, Freddie. We can have a chat, just you and me.” His eyes never left Freddie’s. 

Freddie nodded. “Ace, darling, you are lovely for explaining all that to me. I know we’ve effectively rained on this parade." He swept his hand around the room, where everyone stared in pensive silence. "But I did want to know, so I take full responsibility.” 

He was trying to make light of it all, trying to make sense of everything he had heard. He wanted to know how to prevent the mysterious virus, and how he could tell everyone in the world about it. But he felt tired, like the wind had been knocked from his sails. What he needed was—

Brian stood quickly and made his way over, as if reading his mind. He leaned forward and captured Freddie in a hug. Freddie stood and stumbled forward into Brian’s arms. 

“Lord, Brian, I was never this much of a little bitch in 1978, was I?” he whispered into Brian’s curls. 

“Oh, you’ve always been a bitch” Brian responded with a deep, vibrating chuckle. 

Freddie slapped Brian’s back and squeezed him tighter. 

Just then, a telephone began to ring and Freddie stepped back. 

“Where’s that coming from?” he gasped. 

Brian laughed. “That’s my phone, Freddie. Someone’s calling me.” 

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out another of those newfangled gadgets. Freddie still hadn’t gotten used to the idea of a telephone coming out of a pair of trousers. 

“Oh!” Brian gasped, staring at his phone, which kept up its shrill ringing. “It’s Roger!”

Chapter Text

Brian stared at the screen, then back at Freddie, as the ringing continued. 

“Well, answer it!” Freddie said, waving him on. “Let’s see what he has to say about this little predicament I’m in…” 

Brian bit his lip and pressed a button on the screen. He held the phone, not up to his ear, but out in front of him.

“Hiya, Rog!” Brian said loudly. “I’ve got you on speakerphone. I’m here with…some people.” He glanced up at the others, who stood listening. 

Freddie stepped forward. “Just get to the point, will you?” he said, taking the phone out of Brian’s hand and putting his mouth close to the screen. “Roger Meddows Taylor, I do hope you still have your blond hair, my dear. It might break my heart if you’ve gone as grey as Brian here…” 

Freddie smirked, his eyebrows raised, waiting for a response. 

Brian shook his head, shrugging. 

“Who’s that?” Roger asked through the phone. 

Freddie rolled his eyes dramatically. “It’s me. Good Lord, don’t you recognize my voice? Shall I sing you a tune? Better yet…” He glanced around. “Remember when you stole that lady’s coat off the back of a chair in a pub, and it turned out it was real fur and we sold it at the stall for 200 quid?” 

Sergio threw a hand up to his mouth, stifling a laugh. 

Brian’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. 

Roger was silent on the other end of the line, until he chuckled. “God yes, but what you don’t know, is that I got 250 quid for it. I kept the extra 50, for my trouble.”

Freddie nearly dropped the phone. His smile stretched across his face. “Fuck you!” he laughed happily. 

Roger rasped out a chuckle. “Brian texted me a bunch of bollocks about time travel and god knows what-all, and I thought I might have to finally have him committed…” he stopped talking. “Would you get Brian to do a video call? I want to see your face.” 

Freddie nodded, though Roger couldn’t see him. He handed the phone back to Brian, who adjusted his glasses and tapped on the screen with a fingertip a couple times. 

“Let’s call you back. I don’t know what I’m bloody doing,” he finally said.

“Here, let me?” Amy stepped forward, offering her hand. 

Freddie was pleased to see that not everyone in the twenty-first century was savvy with the newfangled technology. He felt a pang of tenderness towards Brian, though, bent over with his glasses low on his nose, his grey curls hanging in his face. His body was older, with wrinkles and lines that weren’t there the last time Freddie saw him. It was surreal, to see the sagging flesh of Brian’s face, the effect of gravity on a being made of carbon, of flesh and bone and muscle. 

But Brian was more than that. They all were. They were made of something more, something that stretched beyond the sum of their parts. They had to be. Or else…what did that mean for Freddie, who was, by all accounts, nothing more than dust by then? 

Amy’s sharp laugh burst through Freddie’s reverie and he glanced up in time to see Roger’s face on the small screen. 

Roger looked exactly the same. Only of course he didn’t. Now, he had white hair and a white beard, white hair and a fuller face. Yet, those same sky blue eyes looked out with the same cheeky glint, the same boyish charm.

“I’ll be damned,” Roger said, shaking his head, squinting out from the screen. “It is really you.” With that, his face scrunched up and his hand flew up to cover a sudden bout of sobs. “You left us…” he said through his tears. “You weren’t supposed to go so soon…”

Freddie watched him and didn’t know what to say. Obviously he was aware that Freddie knew his fate. Freddie was sure no one had heard as many unbelievable things in one day than he had—than they all had. And he knew the ache of sorrow would overtake him if he let it. So he cleared his throat. 

“I’m sorry, Rog. Really, no one is more sorry about me dying than me.” He chuckled, then shrugged. “Now, get yourself together and help us. They all say Brian is the brains, but I know you. You’ve read more books than anyone I know—and I imagine more so now that you’re an old man.”

“Hey watch it,” Roger said, rubbing his eyes. 

“Come on, it’s a compliment,” Freddie said, waving his hand. “Anyway, darling, jokes aside: what is your opinion on this time travel business?” 

Roger looked like he was really contemplating the situation. He asked a few logistical questions, like what Freddie was doing when he time traveled. 

“Well, I’m certainly not an astrophysicist,” Roger said, winking. 

In the background, Brain chuckled and rolled his eyes. 

“But,” Roger continued. “I love science fiction novels. So, I think I’m also somewhat of an expert in my own right. So usually with time travel, you’re traveling with either…” He put his hand up and started to tick off his points. “Portals or wormholes, time-machines—which I don’t think is the case here, based on what I’ve heard—or the good old fashioned time slip. That’s the one I think you’re working with, Freddie.” 

Freddie raised his eyebrows. “Time slip? Oh, tell me more, wise one.” 

Roger frowned. “You’d better be nice, smart arse. A time slip is basically the idea of traveling through time by unknown means. Unfortunately, the time traveler usually only ends up going back to his original time by unknown means, too. In other words, you’re at the mercy of whatever unknown force brought you here.” 

“And that’s your theory?” Freddie asked, exasperated. “That I have no control over any of this?” 

Roger nodded somberly. Then he raised his eyebrows. “Unless…” 

Freddie stared at the screen. “What!” 

“Well, hear me out. Maybe you’re supposed to learn something, or do something, in order to go back. Could be a lesson. It’s like in a fairy tale, when true love’s kiss breaks the evil spell…” 

Freddie scoffed. “As much as I wouldn’t mind kissing a bunch of people to figure that out, I have a feeling now is not the best time to be a tart—what with this pandemic business.” 

Roger shook his head, clearly amused. “Yes, you wanker, it was just an analogy. What I mean to say is, if you can figure out the reason you showed up here, maybe that’ll be the key to going back.” 

Ace piped up for the first time in a while. “Hey, what about trying to recreate the scene before he went missing?” He got closer to the screen and did a quick introduction to Roger. “We can’t exactly have a big party, but we can do one with the five of us here…” He turned to Freddie. “What were you drinking that night?”

Freddie squinted, trying to remember. “I usually go with vodka.” 

“All right, we’ll get you drunk, and try and recreate the party as best you remember.”

Freddie nodded to Ace, wondering how to broach the subject that it might take a couple eight-balls on top of the vodka to get him into the state he was in when he time traveled. 

They’d worry about that later, though. For now, he clapped his hands together. 

“I think that’s the best plan I’ve heard yet! Let’s do it.”