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They had always joked about it, and he had even laughed along.
Because really, it was ridiculous. The idea that they’d just not come back onstage at the end of his big solo, and see how long it took him to notice.
He would notice right away.
Right?
---
It was an almost indescribable moment, how it felt to be up there, thousands of eyes on him, and only him. The crowd hanging on each note, the stage all his. He tried not to be a selfish man, but at this part of the show, he could let himself relish in selfishness, and know that it was wholly allowed.
Even so, as the last note rang out, he peeked back to see why Roger hadn’t started playing yet, he was ready for them to be back, to share the stage again.
But Roger wasn’t there.
Muscle memory was a gift, kicking in and running through another version of a solo even as a slight panic set in. Maybe Roger needed an extra minute backstage. That was fine.
However, Freddie and John surely would have still come out, and they weren’t there either.
If something had gone wrong, they would have signaled to him in some way, the show would have been paused. That much was certain.
So this was only a blip. A few extra moments with the crowd to be enjoyed. Perfectly fine.
Until he hit the end of the solo, and still...no one.
Was the crowd starting to notice? He couldn’t tell for sure, but they had to be guessing that a solo usually didn’t make up the rest of a show (tempting as it might be, from time to time.)
He was experimenting now, to change up the sound of the solo (when it went on this long, was it still a solo? What on earth could he call it?) The crowd seemed happy, but the few visible faces near the front were starting to look questioning.
As much fun as it was to really stretch, to see where he could go with extra time, this was too much. Where in the fuck were they?
The faces in the front now looked actively confused. This was a problem, he could not lose the crowd.
He let the last note ring, and strode over to his mic, running through the potential ideas in his head.
“Well,” he started, and god his voice sounded too loud. But did it sound as unsure as he felt? “I hope you all enjoyed that. I don’t normally get to play around that long. Was lovely, wasn’t it?”
The crowd cheered, and his heartbeat slowed closer to its normal show-time rate.
“It was! Now, I don’t know all what’s happened backstage, but while they muck about, why don’t we do something new?”
They cheered again, and in fairness it wasn’t like they had many options for reacting (really only cheering or booing), but it was such a relief each time they shouted happily.
“I play, you sing,” he said. “I don’t have microphones for all of you, sorry.”
Laughter, warm and kind, from the fans.
“But I think altogether, you won’t need any mics. And no worries, any we play now, we’ll still play later on in the show with everyone else. There’ll be two versions of it, the one we make right now, and the one with the rest of the lads, alright?”
One of his techs ran out his acoustic, and he started into Love of My Life, a crowd favorite already, so it should get everyone singing.
And it did, and he would have been lying if he didn’t admit it brought him to tears. They could have been mad, at the concert not progressing as planned. They could have shouted, could have thrown things. Instead, they were this beautiful united front, accepting that if it was only going to be him for a little bit more, then they would make the concert their own this way. It was similar to the connection that came on whenever they slowed things down for the acoustic portions, but it was entirely his with them for the moment.
And he wanted to bottle it, so he could bathe in the memory of it. In that feeling of love and happiness, just him and the crowd, and the notes floating around them all.
He would admit mild shock that they remembered Leaving Home Ain’t Easy as well as they did. He had hesitated to go into it without announcing it after Love of My Life, but most of the crowd jumped right on it. The few that didn’t that he could see were still plenty in the moment though, seemingly humming along or just enjoying it as it was.
Sleeping on the Sidewalk was...odd, to play on the acoustic, and without anyone else, but again, they had him covered. There were enough people trying to fill in the sound of where the rest of the band would have been that while it was certainly different, it didn’t lack for anything.
As they neared the end of it, he pondered what he could do next, only to finally hear Roger batting about with his kit.
“I think that’s all for us,” Brian chuckled as he played out the end of the song. “But you were all wonderful; I’ll reach out about any touring opportunities with you. How does that sound?”
Cheers again from the crowd, though he could feel their eyes switching to Roger. He couldn’t blame them, because he wanted to try and get close enough to talk to him if he could, to find out what in the hell had been going on.
However, John and Freddie trotted out a moment later, and there was no time to try to talk to any of them then.
---
“So it started as a prank?” Brian asked.
They were sat in the hotel room he’d been sharing with Freddie, him on the armchair in the corner, Freddie splayed over one bed, and John and Roger sharing the other.
“It was supposed to be only that,” Roger replied. “And five minutes, max. Then my fucking trouser zipper got stuck while I was trying to change and there was Crystal cutting me out of them-”
“Meanwhile my other outfit was...well, I still don’t know where it fucked off to,” Freddie interrupted. “Just you wait, I’ll find it tomorrow, in the next town, in the wrong suitcase or something...but I was stuck helping look for that-”
“And what about you?” Brian asked John.
“I was waiting in the wings for the two of them,” he shrugged. “No one let me know what was going on, so I just...hung out.”
“You didn’t think to come on without them?”
John shrugged again. “Thought maybe we were extending the prank, and you were doing fine. Didn’t want to interrupt it, after you started playing with the crowd. That was really sweet.”
Freddie nodded. “Filming concerts is such a pain, but if we could have filmed anything last night; I would have loved to have gotten that. I could hear bits of it while I was rooting through all our things. You did well.”
Roger’s face was thoughtful. “Could add it to the shows every now and again. That little bit extra, just you and the fans. What do you think, Bri?”
It was an interesting thought. Would it be the same, without the weird pressure of not knowing what was going on with everyone else, why they hadn’t been back onstage on time?
“Maybe,” he finally replied. “Or is that your way of telling me I should expect this prank to happen again?”
“Oh no,” Freddie scoffed. “I think it jinxed the rest of us, doing that.”
“I was fine,” John said.
“Yeah, but Freddie was wandering about half-naked, and I was afraid I was going to end up with a bit of my cock snipped off while I was wrestled out of my trousers!” Roger cried. “We don’t need to tempt fate again. But doing it without the prank bit, having Brian do that extra time with the fans...that on its own I think would be good.”
“Every now and again might be alright,” Brian said. “It was a nice moment, don’t get me wrong. Even so, it was strange, not having the rest of you with me.”
“Aw,” Freddie smiled. “You missed us!”
“I might have,” he teased.
“You did,” Roger teased right back, grinning at him. “Well, we missed you too. Would have rather been onstage than caught in my clothes.”
“Could have been the show I finally went out almost completely naked,” Freddie murmured. “Might as well have, for as long as it took me to get into something else.”
“I was really alright, waiting in the wings,” John added again. “But all the same, I don’t think I’d want to be out there without the rest of you.”
Truthfully, Brian couldn’t imagine it either. Maybe if they each dipped into experimenting with more solo work alongside Queen, but even that was hard to envision. It had been fun for a turn, being alone up there, but better was the stage with his found brothers beside him.