Hear The Cry Of Youth

Which he does, exactly as I knew he would. 'Gazza, baby! Rock'n'roll is anything you want it to be!' Quite right too. 'It's sex!' Yup, definitely that. 'It's style!' Fishnets, corsets and boots. That's style. 'It's rebellion'. We're living outside the bounds of Globalsoft, of course it's rebellion. They call us the 'rebels'. 'It's freedom!' That too. Anything outside of Globalsoft is freedom. But the Dreamer doesn't appear satisfied with this. 'Yes, but – what actually is it?' Sex, style, rebellion and freedom. Other than that we don't know. Globalsoft fear it, we love it, anything more the only ones who could tell us are dead. We don't know what it is. We will one day though. We will.

Big Macca goes on to explain what we do know. And there's not a lot of that. 'But what we do know is that there somehow came a day when rock'n'roll - died. But, we all believe that in time, there will come a man who carries the past within him. You see, somewhere on Planet Mall there are instruments, there must be. And if Brit is right, you are the man who can find them.' The latter part doesn't seem to go down well with Galileo, he seems really worried by it actually. Must be the first time the poor boy's had any responsibility, and now he has to bring back the rock'n'roll vibe. 'Me? Excuse me, Britney, bring back rock'n'roll? But I wouldn't know where to start!' With your dreams, kid! It's what they're for isn't it?

But, it seems Brit has better ideas. 'You start with your baby of course, like me and Meat. Like you and Scaramouche! You see, Galileo, what passes for music these days is only created for money, which is why it has no soul. But when rock'n'roll began, do you know why they did it?' Oh dear, he doesn't know that either. At least we do. We can help him there, but then it's gotta be up to him.

'They did it for their babies, of course! They did it for a crazy little thing called love.' Which seems to be the essence of rock'n'roll. Sex, style, rebellion and freedom are all about love. The love of a way of life, a free life. No rules, just love. 'This thing, called love, I just can't handle it.' Brit tells Galileo. Can't handle 'it'? I laughed slightly; he probably means he can't handle me.

I rolled my eyes at Scaramouche, who seemed to have understood what he meant, 'This thing, called love, I must get round to it.'

'I ain't ready.'

It's a crazy little thing, love.

No one is ever ready for love, which is why they always mean to get round to it, but never do, so they can't handle it. That love can't be handled shows that it's free, which is also a fundamental part of rock'n'roll.

'Um, Meat? Can I ask you something?'

Ooh, sounds serious, I lead her to a quiet corner of the Heartbreak, 'Sure Hen, what is it?'

'Um, what is love?'

I nearly fainted with shock. She doesn't know what love is!? 'You really don't know?' She shook her head and mumbled something indistinguishable. 'Well, this thing called love, it cries like a baby in a cradle all night.'

Brit didn't seem to have got the message that it was girl talk time, either that or he'd been eavesdropping, and couldn't wait to add his opinion, 'It swings, it jives, it shakes all over like a jelly fish.'

I laughed at his definition, but it was fitting, 'I kinda like it, crazy little thing called love.' Yeah, I kinda like it. That indefinable quality, it cries, it swings, it jives. It's everything. Brit wandered back over to Galileo, who was surrounded by a hoard of female bohemians. 'Come on hen. Dance!' I got up and started to do one of the many things the Bohemians do best – dance.

I noticed Brit gesture over to me while talking to Galileo, 'There goes my baby, she knows how to rock 'n' roll'. Again, stating the obvious, course I do! I'm a bohemian, we all know how to rock'n'roll. How to be free. He continues talking to Galileo, presumably about me. Or at least it'd better be, 'She drives me crazy, she gives me hot and cold fever, she leaves me in a cool cool sweat.' Well, I hope so. I do my best.

I miss Galileo's next question, he asks it so softly, but I hear Brit's reply – I think everyone does, 'I gotta be cool, relax, get hip, get on my tracks take a backseat, hitchhike, take a long ride on my motorbike, until I'm ready. It's a crazy little thing called love.'

Galileo then starts to repeat what Brit said, but with a questioning tone, as though he's not sure he's got it right, 'I gotta be cool, relax, get hip, and get on my tracks.'

Scaramouche seemed to have given up on dancing, and had joined them, 'take a backseat, hitchhike, take a long ride on my motorbike.'

Although I don't mind dancing alone – it makes me the centre of attention, but it seemed like they were having a conversation I wouldn't want to be left out of, 'until I'm ready, crazy little thing called love.' Love. It is crazy, and while Brit may have meant he couldn't handle me, I can't handle it in general. I love Brit so much, and I don't think I've ever told him just how much, something I must get round to doing.

'Oh yeah!' I turn round in time to see Galileo and Scaramouche starting to dance, but properly, starting to let go.

And then who would show up, but Khashoggi, Killer Queen's Second-in-Command, her dogsbody, with all his little cronies, the secret police. 'Oh yeah indeed. So finally I'm checking into the Heartbreak Hotel. So, Mr McCartney, I say hello, and you say goodbye…' And with that the police push us all back, behind their laser beams. In the confusion Galileo and Scaramouche were left behind, Khashoggi evidently had plans for them. But, instead of running, they stood there, like they were shell-shocked. As though they knew it was the end and were waiting for Khashoggi to get them. Which he went to do. Brit couldn't let this happen; we couldn't have spent our lives searching for the vibe, only to have it snatched away so soon. He broke through the laser cage, 'No! You'll never take the Dreamer while I'm alive!'

I remember his last words so clearly, he told them to run, that the future of rock was theirs to save. Breaking through the cage sapped his strength and they gunned him down. He fell, and everything was lost. My life is over, I cannot go on. What is the point now? Galileo and Scaramouche will be captured, and Brit is dead. There is no point, the vibe is lost. Everything is gone. Globalsoft have won. 'One by one, only the good die young.' It's so ironic now, Brit, then Galileo and Scaramouche. One by one.