They had just finished recording a new album. As always with them, it had been quite a process, although it had been done quicker than their previous ones. They had yelled at each others quite a lot and had needed the few days spent with their respective spouse/girlfriend/cats to wind down from their various arguments and feel like seeing each other again. They were, however, quite happy with the result. They only had a little time before the whole craziness of album promotion and preparation for touring started again, and Freddie suggested they could spend a weekend together, just the four of them amongst friends, before the circus started again. They all agreed to meet that night at a small pub near Roger’s house. He knew the owner and they would have the back room for the four of them.
Uncharacteristically; they all arrive on time. Even Freddie, with his uncommon notion of punctuality, even John who has a small child, even Roger who lives next door, even Brian, who feels exhausted, drained as he often did at the end of recording an album. They were all just really looking forward to seeing each other.
They sit down around the table, get a beer, then start discussing where they should head to. John does not want to be far away from his kid, so Freddie’s grand plan for a visit to Tokyo is quickly forgotten. John suggests Edinburgh, then agrees that September in Scotland is possibly a bad idea. Roger’s plan to go to Paris seems to be getting the most approval. The three plans have in common that they include partying hard and getting positively shit-faced. Roger, Freddie and John bustle with energy and keep getting ideas. Brian is pretty silent. He had been hoping for something quieter, he really is too exhausted for all that. He suggested as much a while ago, offered to go somewhere to just talk and watch the stars but nobody seems to have listened. So he sighs and tries again:
“Come on guys, we could to something quiet for once, talk to each other, maybe get some sleep at some point in the weekend”
“Come on, old man!” mocks Roger “Live a little. You’ll have all the time to sleep when you’re dead.”
The others add a few other teasing remarks and come back to discussing their plans. Brian usually does like partying, even if he never lasts as long as John, but right now he is too tired. Even the sound of his friend’s playful argument is getting much. He is getting the beginning of a headache, and when Roger punches him amicably in the shoulder just a bit too hard, he sees red.
The usually calm man suddenly starts shouting which is something he rarely does outside of the recording studio, taking everyone by surprise:
“Look, you can go have some more parties and get drunk all you want. It’s what we’ll be doing on tour, anyway. Right now, I’m exhausted, I just want to get away from it all for a while. But since you seem to be unable to live without the noise, just go without me. That way I’ll get some more time with Chrissy. And you Roger, don’t fucking punch me!”
With these last words, the guitarist storms out from the bar.