Alright, I re-wrote parts of this so that it could be a shorter chapter instead of five altogether. Enjoy!
I Want To Break Free
Sometime later--Galileo couldn't be too sure how many days, hours, weeks it was--Galileo woke up in what seemed to be some sort of hospital room. There were at least ten other beds. He noticed movement on one and went to go see who it was.
"What the fuck," was the response from the girl, who happened to be Scaramouche, when she saw Galileo two feet away from her face.
"H-h-hi, G-g-gaga girl," Oh, nice, real smooth Galileo.
"I ain't no g-g-g-g-g-gaga girl, and I don't happen to appreciate people in my face!" came the defensive reply. "Who're you?"
"I'm—well, I don't really know who I am," answered Galileo. Ditto.
"Gee, that must make things a little difficult."
"But I know what my name is, at least." Yeah, like she really thought you didn't know your own name.
"And what's that?"
"Galileo Figaro," he said proudly.
She raised her eyebrows. "Nice name."
What? Someone actually likes my name? "Why thank you!"
"You CANNOT believe I was being serious. Mind if I shorten it?" Galileo's face fell. Shorten it? How could you shorten it? Galileo doesn't go without Figaro, and Figaro doesn't go without Galileo! You should be happy that I just let you call me Galil—
"So, Gazza, how did you get here?" Gazza? GAZZA!
"I um, hear voices in my head. Songs, like. A bunch of random words that follow a tune. I'm—well, I guess I'm mad." There is no way, no HOW that she is going to get away with calling me Gazza. "How about you?"
Scaramouche looked at the floor. "They think I'm gonna be a rebel, 'cos" she looked up and towards the door, "SOME PEOPLE DON'T LIKE THE WAY I DRESS!"
"I think that you dress beautifully," Okay, that maybe wasn't the right thing to say...
"Thanks…" Scara noticed the bandages on her head. "What do you think they did to us?"
"I don't know."
"Do you know anything?" she was starting to get annoyed.
"Well…umm…I know that I'm d-different," came the stuttered respond. Geez, right when you think you lose your stutter…
"I'm different too. The Gaga girls hate me," said Scaramouche, looking, once again, at the floor.
"The BoyZone clones hate me. Do you know why they hate you?" asked Gazz, trying to get through her shell.
"Sure. They think I'm a lesbian 'cos I don't wear pastels," shrugged Scara.
"No, that's not why…" Great, Galileo…talk yourself into a corner, why don't you? "They hate you because…because you're an individual! They're scared of you—"
She cut him off. "That's enough false cheer for today, Gazz. So, ever think that maybe we should get out of here, oh I don't know, BEFORE anyone comes back?"
Why didn't I think of that? "Yeah…but wh-where would we go? Back home? We'd just get arrested again, and brought back, and tortured." Pretty good cover, if I do say so myself!
Scara grinned. "Ever hear of the rebels?"