Page 32 of Spread Your Wings
“I’m here, with you. I’m better than okay.”
Mustafa smiled, a genuine one that lit his entire face.
“I’m so glad I could join you. Not just for the concert, you know. I wanted to be here with you.”
Sammy nodded, not wanting to ruin the moment with maudlin words.
They tried to spread out Bex’s sleeping bag to sit on it. The crowd pressed around them until they were standing shoulder-to-shoulder. It was still an hour-and-a-half before the concert.
To pass the time, Sammy suggested a game of “I Spy.” It started as a friendly game between him and Mustafa. It turned into a vicious one-up between Kenny and Simon.
“I spy something green!”
Sammy opened his mouth to say, “Reefer.” The smell of marijuana wafted from behind them on the breeze. He suspected the group of men to the left of them weren’t sharing a hand-rolled tobacco cigarette.
“Is it your face, you jealous bastard?” Kenny said.
“Jealous?” Simon asked, ignoring Sammy. “Why would I be jealous?”
“You thought you had a chance with Sammy, but this other bloke took your place.”
“Is bloke a good name or a bad name?” Mustafa asked Sammy. The other two men were too wrapped up in their argument to pay attention.
“It means a common guy, a regular guy.”
“Shut up and kiss him already,” Bex said to Simon.
“What if I don’t want to kiss him?” Simon glared at Kenny, who pointed to his cheek and puckered his lips.
“Then find someone else to kiss and stop moping. Fifty percent of the men at this concert are gay or bi. The other fifty percent are here with their wives or girlfriends.”
“I don’t want to be your common guy,” Mustafa whispered in Sammy’s ear. “I want to be your special guy.”
“You are my special guy,” Sammy said, meeting Mustafa’s soft brown eyes. They crinkled at the corners when he smiled. The trauma they’d shared in Sarajevo more than made up for all the trivia Sammy had yet to learn about Mustafa. Special didn’t describe Sammy’s need to learn everything there was to know about Mustafa.
“Not yet,” Mustafa said. “I will be.”
Sammy didn’t ask what Mustafa meant. They were now in the stage’s shade where the wind was cooler. He zipped his leather jacket up to keep out the wind.
When Brian May walked out on stage at six, Sammy nearly lost his shit. They’d been playing a montage of Freddie, and “Bohemian Rhapsody,” on the big screen. Seeing Brian, real and in person, was almost too much.
“Good evening, Wembley and the world,” Brian May said. “We are here tonight to celebrate the life, and work, and dreams, of one Freddie Mercury. We’re gonna give him the biggest send-off in history!”
Roger Taylor told them to cry as much as they wanted, and to don the red ribbons that had come with their programs. They did.
John Deacon said some words. Even five rows from the stage, his opening statement was lost in the hum of audience chatter. Then, the guitar riff from one of Sammy’s favorite metal songs, “Enter Sandman,” played, and the concert began. The music was so loud it rattled his ribcage and made his ears hurt, but he didn’t care. This was a once-in-a-lifetime event.
Metallica’s Jason Newsted’s hair was a shade lighter than Sammy’s, but longer, and curly. He rubbed the back of his neck as the crowd pushed them from behind, wanting to be closer to the stage. Mustafa steadied him with a hand at his waist, and they swayed together to the beat.
They danced like that to “Nothing Else Matters.” The words touched Sammy as they never had before. His eyes, which had been dry and gritty all day, even while seeing the remaining members of Queen, now blurred. Mustafa handed him a travel pack of tissues from the pharmacy. The man had thought of everything.
Then Freddie appeared on the screens, towering above the stage, singing, “Take My Breath Away.” They cried some more. The video rolled into “The Great Pretender,” Freddie’s solo version. By the time he sang the final words, “Still around,” Sammy was sobbing on Mustafa’s shoulder. Mustafa rocked him through “Melancholy Blues.” When Freddie started singing, “Somebody to Love,” his tears faded to awe. Freddie Mercury had one of the purest voices in the world.
“Being natural and genuine is what wins,” a mustachioed Freddie said. Freddie grinned from ear to ear in interview footage displayed for the crowd. Sammy hadn’t seen the interview before.
Mustafa leaned on his shoulder and whispered in his ear, “Being natural with you comes so easy. I never expected it to be so easy.”
Sammy nodded, words failing him again. Mustafa made him speechless with every revelation.
