Post by Mustapha on Nov 29, 2008 1:35:11 GMT -5
Galileo nervously stepped down the halls searching for his friends. He was so awkward in places like this, he knew no one but the bohemians, but everyone there knew who he was and expected him to know them.
“Ah, Galileo Figaro, how are you this evening?” A man dressed in a formal tuxedo asked as he slipped past a large woman.
“Uh… g-g-good a-a-and you?” he stuttered nervously loosening his black tie. Tonight he was wearing a slightly damaged white suit shirt, a black tie, and black jeans and of course his signature leather jacket.
“I’m splendid.” The man said quickly before turning to order a drink. Gaz took this as an opening and bolted across the room, ignoring any calls for his name.
“Galileo!”
“Master Figaro!”
“Galileo!”
He kept running till a hand stopped him. “Oi, Gazza Fizza, didn’t you hear me?” Scaramouche groaned angrily before moving down her hand and slinking it through his arm.
He gulped at the sight of her, she wasn’t in her usual corset and skirt, but she had a red and black dress that stopped just above the knees and fitted tightly around her body. She rarely revealed her figure to anyone and Gaz always got a bit nervous when she did.
“Oh calm down Gazza, your sweating on my hand.” She laughed rubbing her wet hands on his jeans. He laughed but then swallowed hard again. “Gaz, look at me,” she sighed cupping his chin in her palms, “You can do this, it’s just another awards night. Nothing new mate, alright?” she reassured him and kissed him on his chin lightly.
“Thanks babe. Oh and where’s Meatloaf and M-m-Mustapha?” he stuttered, groaning in frustration. He hadn’t stuttered in a long time, and tonight of all nights, it came back.
She laughed and patted his bum. “You’re so cute when you’re frustrated. Anyway, they went to where we’re seated for the night. They wanted to check out the ‘competition’ as Meat puts it.” Scaramouche sighed rolling her eyes.
When they walked in they saw Meat straight away. It wasn’t hard to miss that tall bundle of blonde locks. She was watching a guy walk past and he winked at her. Meat blinked in shock and then began marching forward to give him a piece of her mind, when Mustapha stopped her.
“Meat, we can’t break into a fight before the show… that’s just not how it’s done.” She said sitting down the furious Scot in attempts to calm her a bit. “Right, but as soon as its intermission…” she said and put a finishing effect of her sentence by drawing a line across her neck menacingly. Mustapha laughed and then she saw Galileo and Scaramouche walking over.
Gaz smiled at the sight of Mustapha all grown up. She was 15 now and she was wearing something other than the usual vest and shorts. She was wearing a white collared short sleeve top with a black sweater vest over the top that had some badges in the corner, inspired by Meat. She was wearing a white skirt with black polka dots and leggings. But as usually underneath she wore her ratty converses. She said they were her good luck charms, that and the silver locket she had gotten form Meat a few months ago.
She fiddled with it, patting Meat on the back who was gritting her teeth. Gaz looked her up and down as well. She was wearing a dark blue, almost black, dress that flowed elegantly. The only thing was it had been Meat-a-fied... There were studs, badges, bangles, clips, bands, leather, beads, feathers, sparkles, rags and all bits of accessories Meat had collected over the years. Despite the clutter she still looked fabulous…with a dash of Rock and Roll.
“Gaz, Scara, ‘bout time ye showed up, we’ve been waitin’ fer ever!” She growled, grinning at Mustapha, who was tapping her foot and looking at her watch dramatically.
Gaz had to laugh; these two had now become inseparable, which really did Meat a lot of good. It got her mind of Brit and she now had a new soul mate. It’s as if Mustapha was her own way of being told it was okay.
“Alright ladies, how long till the show starts?” Gaz asked, relieved that his stutter had gone. “Well, about 10 minutes.” Mustapha mumbled, sighing. It seemed like they had all been there for hours.
“Let’s go walk around some more!” Scaramouche suggested. Or really ordered, before anyone could argue, she marched back up the aisle and everyone was expected to follow her.
Scaramouche wandered away form the group first. She began to examine all the people around her. A few of them she noticed were Gaga’s in disguise. Wannabes to put it at best. She crinkled her nose in disgust and kept walking. She felt a little wobbly in her new shoes, which for once were not boots. They weren’t as flat footed and she felt like she was balancing on a thread.
When she stopped to rest her feet, she noticed some familiar faces across the room. Suddenly a whole bunch of taunts came flooding into her mind.
“Check out the weirdo girls!”
“Doesn’t your mum download you anything decent to wear?”
“What’s today’s statement? Hello I’m a pathetic ugly little weirdo!”
She snarled at them slightly, realising they too had been converted to bohemians. Sensing her glares they all turned simultaneously and spotted her. “Oh, Scaramouche now is it?”
One of them smiled as they wandered over. They all surrounded her blocking her escape and she couldn’t bloody well push past them because her heels would trip her up. “Oh honey it’s been so long.”
“Not long enough.” Scaramouche said smiling with fake sweetness. Luckily the girls were still too dumb to realise she was insulting them. “We heard you’re big now, like famous!” The purple said putting an arm around Scaramouche like they had been friends for ages. Scaramouche faked some vomiting sounds and then turned back to the girl.
“Oh… I wouldn’t say… famous…I’m still the same freaky girl that you lot hated a year ago!” she said still smiling but gritting her teeth as she stealthily slipped out from the purple one’s grasp. “Yes, and we are terribly sorry about that Scaramouche, darling, we never meant to hurt your feelings. It was like playful banter!” The yellow one said getting closer.
Scaramouche was beginning to get a little claustrophobic so she slowly began to walk backwards. But just her luck the crowd followed.
“Bugger it all…where’s Gaz when you need him?” she mumbled under her breath.
-----------
“So master Figaro what exactly does bis mil lach no mean?”
“Well I-”
“And how long have you been singing?”
“I don’t really-”
“When are you and the hairy one’s heir planning to wed?”
“What are you-?”
“Galileo, I have a question!”
Gaz sighed. As soon as he walked out the safety of the main hall, he was swept up in a sea of paparazzi and media rats. They had been asking him all these questions and the more he tried to get away the less space he had.
Everything he said was twisted. One example was a short man with a bad toupee asked, “Is Scaramouche pregnant?” Galileo answered, “I don’t think so…” he saw the man right on his note book: Galileo Figaro, a shocking father figure, has no clue if his own wife is pregnant or not, busy sex life.
For one thing, he was not a dad yet, Scaramouche was not his wife, but who were they to go on about his sex life?
“Okay, I’ve had enough….please clear off.”
“Are you threatening us Mr. Figaro?” a woman yelled from the back, suddenly a roar of camera flashes, scribbling pencils, and annoyed grunts and disapproving glares were sent his way.
Blind, deaf and annoyed, he back against a wall, hoping the girl’s were all safe.
-----------
So much could be said for Meat, who was followed by the man who had winked at her earlier. She was calmer now and wasn’t ready to punch him but she was soon at her wits end.
“Look mate, yer nice and stuff, I’m just not ready fer a relationship yet. Alright? So bugger off.” She said slightly smiling before turning and walking away again. She sighed when she heard him begin to follow her again.
“MATE! CLEAR OFF!” she growled turning around and putting up her fists. She was wearing gloves, but she wasn’t afraid to get them dirty.
He stepped back a bit and she nodded in thanks. She soon turned for the bathroom when she saw him following her once more.
“That’s it!” She growled, leaping at him with one bold jump.
-----------
“Gaz? Meat? Scara? Helllllooooo?” Mustapha called out. She was pretty short so seeing over the seas of people was going to be a problem. She was split up from Scaramouche first, then Gaz disappeared and Meat ran off trying to get rid of some guy. Mustapha sighed and gave up in a corner, sitting down and giving a little huff.
“Look, it’s the Figaro kid!” A man with a camera yelled out. Mustapha looked up a little shocked when suddenly a swarm rushed over to her and flashed the cameras.
Mustapha was blind and the flashes affected not only her eyes but something in her mind was set off. One of the chips short circuited and her eye twitched nervously. She looked around at all the people and became very scared. She had no idea who she was, where she was and who these people were.
“Who are you?” She cried covering her eyes with her hands.
“This little girl is delusional!” One man bellowed and suddenly they all started buzzing words like ‘drunk’ and ‘drugged up’. Nervous, she fled the corner and ran away, only to have the people follow her.
“Ach! Leave me alone!” She screamed dodging everyone. She tripped and landed in the lap of a complete stranger. “Oh gosh!” she whined as she saw the people flashing their cameras some more.
“Stop!” The stranger yelled and suddenly they did. Mustapha was mesmerised, they were obeying his commands.
“Leave this little girl alone!” he bellowed sending the people fleeing in all different directions.
“You helped me…” Mustapha whispered looking up; the man had slightly brown-y black hair and small glasses.
“I wouldn’t let them hurt you…” he whispered helping Mustapha stand up.
“Thanks mister.” She smiled.
“Do you remember who I am?”
“I don’t even know who I am right now, mister.”
“Ah, the flashes must have short circuited your memory. Hang on a tic.” He mumbled as he pulled off his glasses and reflected the ceiling light’s glow into Mustapha’s eyes.
She winced and fell back blinded for a bit, waiting for the black dots to stop swirling in her vision. She remembered who she was and looked up at the man who helped her.
She gasped in fright
--------------
“So like I told him that if he wasn’t ready for a serious relationship, we were through after two whole love-filled days.” A small sympathetic gasp came from all but Scara.
For the past few minutes Scaramouche’s ear had been yakked off with this nonsense and complete garbage. “Oh Scara, love, I think you’re hair is fabulous but isn’t it a little pre-bohemian?”
“Yea, you should get a makeover!” the pink gaga squealed with delight.
Scaramouche rolled her eyes, “forget my hair, can I make over your attitude?” she mumbled a little too loudly.
“Excuse me?” The purple gaga said, a bit more aggressive than Scara expected but still, as if she cared less.
“Just saying, ‘girls’ you really haven’t changed a bit since high school, have you?”
“Uh, we are bohemian now!”
“Well, you certainly look the part but you lot are still the little bitches I left behind a year ago!” Scaramouche smirked bitterly stepping away from the girls, as they gasped from her ‘profanity’ use.
Scara rolled her eyes, “Ohmigosh! I said bitch, someone slap me!” She screamed melodramatically.
“You can’t talk to us like that, you freak! We were doing you a favour!” The yellow one said pointing her finger at Scaramouche like a child.
“Freak… how I’ve missed that name.” She said with a twinkle in her dark eyes, and then she emitted gagging sounds, causing everyone around her to turn and laugh at her little display.
The Gaga’s blushing furiously unleashed their version of hell.
“You freak!”
“Whore!”
“Slut!”
“Wierdo!”
“Loser!”
Scaramouche raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Oh. Alright then, well here’s what I think of you…”
No one in the room, probably including herself, was expecting Scaramouche to slap all five Gaga girls across their made up, slutty faces.
At once.
----------------
Galileo was now practically on top of a table being pushed further and further back by the crowd.
“Please, guys, really, is this necessary? There are other people here tonight you know!” He stammered, looking at the men and women with pleading eyes, but of course they ignored it and took everything he said out of context.
Suddenly a strange surge rushed through his body. ‘Oh god, not now…’ he thought. It was dreamer-time whether he liked it or not.
“At waterloo, Napoleon did surrender!” he sang, ending with an utterly confused expression from himself and everyone else in the room.
Then, he jumped on the table and stood up facing the large crowd that was growing by the minute. “Are you ready? Takin’ care of business! You get the best of both worlds! Take me on the floor, da da da, dah dada da!” He squealed in his girly-est voice, finishing with on his knees with his fist raised towards the sky, his head flopped back.
He slowly looked up at the crowd expecting the worst, and was stunned to see they had fallen completely silent.
“Uh...thankyou very much?” He said, with a slightly scared tone in his voice.
Then a riot broke out.
-------------
Meat was now kicking and screaming, her legs in all directions, which was not a good look for someone in a dress. But she couldn’t care less, she just wanted to get at this pervert and two taller and bigger guys kept holding her back.
“Let me at him!” she kept bellowing, but her stalker just dusted of his suit and smiled.
“Oh you think this is funny, ya pervert?!” Meat growled. “Well how about this?” she yelled before swinging her foot directly into between his legs. “Yea! Not so funny now is it, lover boy!” Meat laughed bitterly as he crumpled on the floor.
But she wasn’t finished she wanted to rip him to pieces now that she had a taste.
“Let go of me, before I do to you what I did to him!” She growled at the two burly men, gesturing towards the man on the floor. They let go immediately. “The things men do for their balls, I tell ya…” she said, smirking, at the ladies who had joined the crowd. Some of them laughed and others nodded in agreement. The men just slowly backed away hoping the girl weren’t getting any fresh ideas,
“So, ya stalker, why don’t you think no means no?” She said a little too hatefully as she pulled him up by his collar, she was extremely strong for her height. The guy just winced and tried to stifle tears, admittedly Meat felt a little bad for how hard she hit him. But only a little.
“Hey, cry-baby, I’m talking to you…”
“I just…uh… can we talk in private?” he said noticing the large crowd around them.
Meat scowled at him as if he had just told her he was going to make World War III. “Oh right…” He mumbled remembering he was a creepy stalker to her.
“Well then?” Meat folded her arms and tapped her foot impatiently, which made a clunking sound.
She looked down and remembered she had worn boots today; she winced at the thought of how these boots went crashing into that guy.
“I just thought you were really… pretty?” he said a little too quietly.
“Uh huh, and what was stalking me supposed to achieve?” Meat asked squinting at the weird man. “Well now that you say it like that, I mean yea it sounds stupid but I really do…kinda like you…” he mumbled sounding like a school boy.
Meat rolled her eyes; he was sweet even if he was a perv. Then she realised what he had said. He liked her.
Then one word came out of her mouth.
“Brit…”
---------
Mustapha shivered, petrified on the floor, wishing that someone was here. Gaz, Scara or Meat, anyone just as long as they got her away from this guy.
“Why…. Why?” Mustapha stammered, it was all that she could force to come out.
“Listen, I needed to talk to you and I thought tonight might be the only chance of seeing you again.”
“Please...go…” Mustapha pleaded a tear running down her cheek; painful memories began to unlock themselves right before her eyes.
This man was the source of all her suffering as a child. He ran the Global Soft tests, he stabbed instruments into her skin, he put the chips in her brain and he even hit her for fun. She rubbed a section of her stomach that she had forgotten about.
The section with a large slash running across it.
He had decided he was sick of using his hands; he wanted to leave a mark on Mustapha to pull her back into line. There was a scalpel lying on the table next to him. He cornered the little girl with the scalpel and cut through her shirt, leaving a running mark and bright red blood, that Mustapha had no idea existed.
She winced as if experiencing the pain all over again. He noted her expression and bent down to stroke her cheek.
Scared of what hell he might unleash now that she was older, Mustapha fled the area running between people, more terrified now than ever.
“Help! Help me! Galileo, Scaramouche! Meat Loaf” She screamed as loud as she could when she realised the man was following her.
Then she reached a dead end, she was blocked in a corner. And the man stood across from her in the empty aisle she had created.
“Get him away from me!” She cried. Suddenly the two burly men walked in and grabbed the man by the arms dragging him away. He didn’t make a scene.
Mustapha was too terrified to notice; she slid to the floor and cried sobs so loud that the whole room went silent. Even the others could hear her now. But she didn’t stop she kept crying and crying trying to let the pain go away.
Not a camera flashed, no one spoke.
They just watched as the little girl poured her heart out.
----
Scaramouche whisked her head around; hearing the screams that sounded oddly familiar made her freeze, mid cat-fight. She stood over the purple Gaga and had her hands tangled in the yellow one’s hair. She stood unembarrassed whether or not she was flashing the purple one and not worrying what underwear she wore today.
“Phapha?” She muttered pulling her fists out of the tangled, matted mess of hair and stepped back, not taking her eyes of the edge of the room where the screams had come from. “Phapha!” She yelled running from the heap of whining brats.
----------
“Pardon?” the guy asked, “What’s a brit?”
Meat opened her mouth to answer when she heard the sobbing. She flicked her head around and miraculously her hair remained in the messy bun on her head. The sobs got louder as the room got quieter.
“I ‘ave to go…” Meat mumbled slowly walking before looking back at the pervert.
“But when will I-”
“I gotta go!” Meat yelled, letting her boots clunks as she stormed through the large crowds, a short Scottish blonde on a mission.
-------------
Galileo uncovered his eyes as the room went quiet, had the reporters killed each other? He hoped stupidly. He was just as relieved when he saw they weren’t looking at him any more.
“GET HIM AWAY FROM ME!”
He heard Mustapha squeal from across the room. “M-m-Mustapha!” He yelled leaping off the table and running through the crowd ignoring people yells, protests and questions.
“Mustapha! I’m coming!” he yelled even louder to make people move aside for him.
Just then, he ran into two other people who were running.
“AYE! WATCH IT MATE!”
“BLOODY HELL, WATCH YOURSELF!”
“Meat! Scaramouche!”
They all looked up and realised they had run into each other. They looked at one another dumbfounded for a while before hearing the sobs again and remembering their mission.
“W-w-we better-” Galileo began before Scaramouche put a finger to his lips. “Listen Gazza, you check the bar room, Meat you check the seating areas. I’ll check the other half of the room.”
They all nodded and leapt back onto their feet and began to search for the little pink haired girl.
--------------
It had been ten minutes and Scaramouche started to fret, she had not seen Mustapha since they had been split up. “Phapha where are you?” Her forehead had become sweaty. She decided to stop into the bathroom to wash her face and think over where she had looked. As she pushed opened the door she heard a sniff. A little, sad sniff.
“Phapha?”
“Go away.”
Scaramouche smiled sadly at the little miserable voice that came from the last stall. Scaramouche walked over and looked under to see two little raggedy green converses swaying back and forth slowly.
Another sniff sounded and Scaramouche rapped her knuckle on the door. “Mustapha, little Phapha…” she whispered sweetly, smiling softly.
Mustapha sniffed even louder and blew her nose on a piece of toilet paper that she had been nursing for a while.
Scaramouche knocked harder this time to find out the door hadn’t been locked. Mustapha sat there looking up at Scaramouche with red, blood shot eyes that were swelled with tears.
“Oh Scaramouche!” Mustapha whined crossing her arms and sobbing hard.
“Now come on, I’m like your big sister! I’m allowed to see you cry! You’ve seen me cry a few times…”
“But I’m older now…”
“Well with the way you’re acting I could’ve sworn you were a baby.” Scaramouche smiled kneeling at Mustapha’s lap.
Mustapha scowled and hopped of the porcelain bowl and began to walk out. Scaramouche rolled her eye and grabbed phapha’s hand. “Oi, what is it?” She laughed at Mustapha’s pout.
“You just don’t get it! No one get’s it!”
“We’re not going to have one of your little breaks down sessions are we?” Scaramouche sighed planting a hand on her hip.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mustapha said a stern tone and yanking her hand back causing Scaramouche to glare at her.
“Well, it seems every time I talk to you now, you end up crying like a pathetic little baby and then we have some ground breaking discussion about how hard your life has been! I get it Phapha; you’ve had the life of a martyr! Get over it really! It pisses me off big time, mate, so just get a grip! You really want to know what I think?! I think you’re just a bitchy little girl who can’t accept someone trying to be nice to you! No wonder you have no friends at school!” Scaramouche growled stamping her foot on the tiled floor.
Mustapha raised a hand over her mouth as she gasped loudly, echoing around the white room. Immediately Scaramouche realised what she had just said.
“Is that… Is that what you really think?” Mustapha said breathing heavily, trying to prevent herself from crying, but salty tears already made their way down her pale cheeks.
Before Scaramouche could answer and apologize, Mustapha bolted from the bathroom, almost knocking out Meat.
“Mustapha! Wait!” Meat called, and she looked back in the bathroom to see Scaramouche standing there with a guilty look on her face.
---------------
Galileo walked around the bar room, it was small and he didn’t dare leave in case Mustapha came, but there were only so many times he could circle it and not look mad. Well, madder that he truly was.
“Buy you a drink handsome?” A blonde at the bar asked, she was a reporter obviously judging by the camera and pad with a pen but she seemed nicer.
“N-n-no thanks, Scaramouche will get mad if I do…” Galileo laughed even though it was true. If she found him drinking while he was supposed to be finding their little Mustapha, he was a goner.
“Sounds like a real Nazi,” The woman laughed, “Sounds like you could use a little freedom, someone with a few less restrictions…” she said standing up slowly and facing Galileo, flicking her hair back.
Galileo raised an eyebrow in confusion and before he knew it she had her lips on his, her breath and tongue entering his mouth and exploring, her hands roaming up and down his muscled back.
He tried to pull back, but she wouldn’t let go. He didn’t feel right; he felt like throwing up, he loved Scaramouche. This wasn’t right.
When he finally pushed her off she laughed hard and blew him a kiss before walking off, swaying her gaudy hips. He snarled in disgust and looked at the door way to see two sets of eyes staring at him. One were blue with a glint of green, Meat stared her jaw dropped her eyebrows crinkled in hate. The other set were a beautiful mousy brown, although now they were rimmed with tears, horribly sweet tears. Scaramouche put a hand over her mouth as she ran from the room crying, pushing through the crowds, not caring who she bowled over, she needed fresh air.
Meat rolled up her already short sleeves and marched towards Gaz, he gulped terrified of what hell Meat might unleash.
“RIGHT! MATE! Let’s get one thing straight ‘ere, ye are a complete an’ utter bastard for doing that! Especially to Scara, she’s the best thing that ever happened to ye mate! An’ you go an’ lock lips with some harlot with a tongue that’s pointier than her hips!” Meat bellowed jabbing Gaz in the chest as he backed up against a wall.
“I know, I know!” Gaz yelled before dropping to his knees. “What have I done…?” He sobbed running his fingers through his hair as tears drops as heavy as his heart dropped on Meat’s shoes. Meat stared, shocked, as Galileo continued to cry.
-----------
Mustapha stormed down the road.
“No more tears, she wants to be that way…fine!” She mumbled bitterly to herself. “I don’t need her, if she hates me then I…” Mustapha stopped and rubbed her eyes.
“Who am I kidding?! I love Scaramouche, she’s my family. Hate or no, I love her…” Mustapha sighed and then kicked a can that was on the pavement next to her. “ARGH! Why do I feel like this?! It’s horrible!”
Mustapha- HEY! Hey, hey, hey! (Stomps feet on the ground)
No I'll never look back in anger
No I'll never find me an answer (Points angrily into mid air)
You promised me you'd keep in touch
I read your letter and it hurt me so much (grabs heart and falls to knees)
I said I'd never, never be angry with you! (Jumps back up and leaps onto wall)
I don't wanna feel like a stranger no (Places one foot in front of the other, while walking on the wall)
'Cos I'd rather stay out of danger (almost falls, pinwheels arms)
I read your letter so many times
I got your meaning between the lines (Jumps up and down angrily and looses footing, falls on ground on bum)
I said I'd never, never be angry with you (sniffs, wiping eyes)
I must be strong so she won't know how much I miss her
I only hope as time goes on I'll forget her (Begins to climb up tree)
My bodies aching can't sleep at night (falls out)
I'm too exhausted to start a fight (punches a tree)
And if I see her with another gal
I'll eat my heart out 'cos I love her
Love her love her love her (jumps up and down and sits angrily on floor)
Come on baby let's get together (backwards rolls onto knees)
I'll love you baby I'll love you forever
I'm trying hard to stay away (Walks away from wall)
What made you change? What did I say? (Grips pigtails angrily and storms back to wall)
Ooh I need your loving tonight
Ooh I need your loving
Ooh I need your loving (beats legs on the ground in beat)
Ooh I need your loving babe tonight (slumps onto bum)
Hit me (Slaps her self in face and rolls across ground, picks at grass and blows at fringe in annoyance, jumps up and dances around angrily only to fall back down)
Ooh I need your loving tonight
No I'll never look back in anger (Stands up and sits against wall)
No I'll never find me an answer
Can't be no warning how could I guess?
I'll have to learn to forgive and forget
Ooh I need your loving (begs, with clasped hands)
Ooh I need your loving
Ooh I need your loving tonight (leans back on wall and groans sadly)
HMPH!
Mustapha crossed her arms and looked at the stars. “Betcha you never had to go through this!” She yelled at the sky.
“Who are you talking to?” A croaky voice sounded behind her, Mustapha turned and gasped, only to see Scaramouche sitting above her on the top of the wall, with tears stains on her pink cheeks. “Scaramouche, I should have suspected as much.” Mustapha said coldly leaning back on the wall and crossing her arms.
“I guess I deserve that…” Scaramouche mumbled submissively and wrapped her arms around her self, placing her head in her lap.
Mustapha glanced up, only to double take. Never had Scaramouche, THE bad arsed babe, taken an insult or response in that manner. Mustapha furled her eyebrows in confusion and then sighed.
She got up and sat next to Scaramouche on the wall. They did not speak, they didn’t touch, all they did was just sat and watched the sky.
“I’ll start then… I never meant to make you that mad at me, really…” Mustapha sighed not taking her eyes off of a particularly bright star. “Mustapha-”
“No, let me finish! I just never think anyone can understand, I mean after all, I am part scientific experiment, it’s not in me to understand everything. Either way, I am… sorry I suppose, I’m not sorry that I feel angry towards you but I am sorry you feel angry towards me, because I never meant to do anything to make you feel that way.” Mustapha said simply before breathing heavily, she felt a little better.
Just then, Scaramouche broke out into large sobs. “What?!” Mustapha asked, worried she had done something else wrong. “I’m just so lucky to have you…”
“Well, you have Gazza too, don’t forget,” Mustapha said smiling slightly, and then her face fell as Scaramouche began crying harder.
“That Bastard!” Scaramouche whined, Mustapha tapped her shoulder and asked what Gaz had done.
“He kissed some slut behind my back, when we were looking for you…” Scaramouche snuffled into her knees, so muffled that Mustapha almost didn’t hear her.
“Maybe… it wasn’t a kiss?” Mustapha said, innocently.
“Yeah and I’m the queen of France! They were getting it on like Pop with a bottle of whisky!” Scaramouche bawled loudly. Mustapha winced, that would not have been a pretty sight.
Mustapha was at a loss for words so she simply raised her right arm slowly and placed it stiffly and softly on Scaramouche’s shoulders, much to her surprise, Scaramouche leant in and cuddled into Mustapha.
“The worst part is he was right to do it.”
“What?”
“Look at me Mustapha! I’m certainly not the beauty queen he deserves. I mean I’m short, I’m ugly, and I need Meat to help me get a decent set of clothes together! And look at this!” Scaramouche wailed grabbing at her stomach through the red dress and squeezing it.
Admittedly she wasn’t skinny, or tall, or great at fashion, but if there was one thing Mustapha knew, it was that she wasn’t fat, a short-arse, and a gaga and most importantly she was the most beautiful girl Mustapha had ever seen, and she hoped that one day she could be just like her. Mustapha told Scaramouche all this and Scaramouche smiled sweetly.
“But she is prettier than me; I mean she’s a blonde, a skinny tall model-worthy blonde! He deserves a girl like her…” Scaramouche cried softly.
“Hey! Gazza is yours! Didn’t he tell you that back at Wembley?! And even if he does deserve a girl like that, then he certainly isn’t worthy of a woman like you!” Mustapha jumped off the wall as she explained this to Scaramouche.
“Oh Mustapha, my sweet little Phapha, what did I ever do to deserve a cheesy little kid like you?” Scaramouche laughed. She slid off the wall and leaned against the wall on the floor and patted the grass next to her, motioning Mustapha to take a seat.
Mustapha sat down and Scaramouche put an arm around her and hugged her in closely.
Scaramouche began to sing to her softly, rubbing up and down Mustapha’s cold arms.
S-Hey little babe you're changing
Babe are you feeling sore? (Looks down at Mustapha)
It ain't no use in pretending
You don't wanna play no more (Rubs her nose against Mustapha’s)
It's plain that you ain't no baby (Rocks her gently)
What would your mother say?
You're all dressed up like a lady (pats Mustapha’s skirt)
How come you behave this way? (Ruffles her fringe)
Sail away sweet sister
Sail across the sea (motions out towards the sea)
Maybe you'll find somebody
To love you half as much as me (hugs her tightly and laughs)
My heart is always with you
No matter what you do (Taps her nose gently)
Sail away sweet sister
I'll always be in love with you (Kisses her on top of her head)
Forgive me for what I told you
My heart makes a fool of me
You know that I'll never hold you (lets go of Mustapha)
I know that you gotta be free (Mustapha pulls arm back around her)
S+M-Sail away sweet sister
Sail across the sea (Hold hands)
Maybe you'll find somebody
To love you half as much as me (point to themselves)
Take it the way you want it
But when they let you down my friend (Mustapha jumps up)
Sail away sweet sister
Back to my arms again (Scaramouche pulls her back and cradles her in her lap)
S-Hot child don't you know you're young
You got your whole life ahead of you?
And you can throw it away too soon
Way too soon (Hugs her tightly and begins to cry softly)
MUSICAL INTERLUDE- Mustapha picks up a flower and puts it behind Scaramouche’s ear, Scaramouche laughs and tickles Mustapha under her arms. Mustapha calms down and they both look out towards the sea, Mustapha wipes a tear off of Scaramouche’s cheek and blows it into the wind
M- Sail away sweet sister
Sail across the sea
Maybe you'll find somebody’s
Gonna love you half as much as me
My heart is always with you
No matter what you do
Sail away sweet sister
I'll always be in love with you (Mustapha kisses Scaramouche’s cheek)
“So…we are…sisters?” Mustapha whispered, as if she would break the world if she broke the silence.
“Of course, my little Phapha, my sweet, cheesy Phapha.” Scaramouche laughed.
Just then a rustle in the bushes sounded behind them. Galileo came tumbling out, tripping over roots and ripping his suit pants. Scaramouche leapt up pulling Mustapha with her.
“Scaramouche, I-” Gaz stuttered only to be interrupted by Scaramouche.
“Don’t Scaramouche me! You broke my heart Galileo!” Scaramouche said bitterly, Galileo shivered, she had used his full name and it sounded like ice.
“It wasn’t my fault!”
“Like I’m going to believe that! Run Mustapha!” Scaramouche yelled pushing Mustapha out in front of her as they ran down the street; Mustapha glanced back at Galileo slowly before shaking her head and running again.
Galileo dropped to his knees. He’d lost them.
He’d lost his Scaramouche.
He’d lost little Mustapha.
He’d lost everything, and the awards hadn’t even begun.
TO BE CONTINUED!
“Ah, Galileo Figaro, how are you this evening?” A man dressed in a formal tuxedo asked as he slipped past a large woman.
“Uh… g-g-good a-a-and you?” he stuttered nervously loosening his black tie. Tonight he was wearing a slightly damaged white suit shirt, a black tie, and black jeans and of course his signature leather jacket.
“I’m splendid.” The man said quickly before turning to order a drink. Gaz took this as an opening and bolted across the room, ignoring any calls for his name.
“Galileo!”
“Master Figaro!”
“Galileo!”
He kept running till a hand stopped him. “Oi, Gazza Fizza, didn’t you hear me?” Scaramouche groaned angrily before moving down her hand and slinking it through his arm.
He gulped at the sight of her, she wasn’t in her usual corset and skirt, but she had a red and black dress that stopped just above the knees and fitted tightly around her body. She rarely revealed her figure to anyone and Gaz always got a bit nervous when she did.
“Oh calm down Gazza, your sweating on my hand.” She laughed rubbing her wet hands on his jeans. He laughed but then swallowed hard again. “Gaz, look at me,” she sighed cupping his chin in her palms, “You can do this, it’s just another awards night. Nothing new mate, alright?” she reassured him and kissed him on his chin lightly.
“Thanks babe. Oh and where’s Meatloaf and M-m-Mustapha?” he stuttered, groaning in frustration. He hadn’t stuttered in a long time, and tonight of all nights, it came back.
She laughed and patted his bum. “You’re so cute when you’re frustrated. Anyway, they went to where we’re seated for the night. They wanted to check out the ‘competition’ as Meat puts it.” Scaramouche sighed rolling her eyes.
When they walked in they saw Meat straight away. It wasn’t hard to miss that tall bundle of blonde locks. She was watching a guy walk past and he winked at her. Meat blinked in shock and then began marching forward to give him a piece of her mind, when Mustapha stopped her.
“Meat, we can’t break into a fight before the show… that’s just not how it’s done.” She said sitting down the furious Scot in attempts to calm her a bit. “Right, but as soon as its intermission…” she said and put a finishing effect of her sentence by drawing a line across her neck menacingly. Mustapha laughed and then she saw Galileo and Scaramouche walking over.
Gaz smiled at the sight of Mustapha all grown up. She was 15 now and she was wearing something other than the usual vest and shorts. She was wearing a white collared short sleeve top with a black sweater vest over the top that had some badges in the corner, inspired by Meat. She was wearing a white skirt with black polka dots and leggings. But as usually underneath she wore her ratty converses. She said they were her good luck charms, that and the silver locket she had gotten form Meat a few months ago.
She fiddled with it, patting Meat on the back who was gritting her teeth. Gaz looked her up and down as well. She was wearing a dark blue, almost black, dress that flowed elegantly. The only thing was it had been Meat-a-fied... There were studs, badges, bangles, clips, bands, leather, beads, feathers, sparkles, rags and all bits of accessories Meat had collected over the years. Despite the clutter she still looked fabulous…with a dash of Rock and Roll.
“Gaz, Scara, ‘bout time ye showed up, we’ve been waitin’ fer ever!” She growled, grinning at Mustapha, who was tapping her foot and looking at her watch dramatically.
Gaz had to laugh; these two had now become inseparable, which really did Meat a lot of good. It got her mind of Brit and she now had a new soul mate. It’s as if Mustapha was her own way of being told it was okay.
“Alright ladies, how long till the show starts?” Gaz asked, relieved that his stutter had gone. “Well, about 10 minutes.” Mustapha mumbled, sighing. It seemed like they had all been there for hours.
“Let’s go walk around some more!” Scaramouche suggested. Or really ordered, before anyone could argue, she marched back up the aisle and everyone was expected to follow her.
Scaramouche wandered away form the group first. She began to examine all the people around her. A few of them she noticed were Gaga’s in disguise. Wannabes to put it at best. She crinkled her nose in disgust and kept walking. She felt a little wobbly in her new shoes, which for once were not boots. They weren’t as flat footed and she felt like she was balancing on a thread.
When she stopped to rest her feet, she noticed some familiar faces across the room. Suddenly a whole bunch of taunts came flooding into her mind.
“Check out the weirdo girls!”
“Doesn’t your mum download you anything decent to wear?”
“What’s today’s statement? Hello I’m a pathetic ugly little weirdo!”
She snarled at them slightly, realising they too had been converted to bohemians. Sensing her glares they all turned simultaneously and spotted her. “Oh, Scaramouche now is it?”
One of them smiled as they wandered over. They all surrounded her blocking her escape and she couldn’t bloody well push past them because her heels would trip her up. “Oh honey it’s been so long.”
“Not long enough.” Scaramouche said smiling with fake sweetness. Luckily the girls were still too dumb to realise she was insulting them. “We heard you’re big now, like famous!” The purple said putting an arm around Scaramouche like they had been friends for ages. Scaramouche faked some vomiting sounds and then turned back to the girl.
“Oh… I wouldn’t say… famous…I’m still the same freaky girl that you lot hated a year ago!” she said still smiling but gritting her teeth as she stealthily slipped out from the purple one’s grasp. “Yes, and we are terribly sorry about that Scaramouche, darling, we never meant to hurt your feelings. It was like playful banter!” The yellow one said getting closer.
Scaramouche was beginning to get a little claustrophobic so she slowly began to walk backwards. But just her luck the crowd followed.
“Bugger it all…where’s Gaz when you need him?” she mumbled under her breath.
-----------
“So master Figaro what exactly does bis mil lach no mean?”
“Well I-”
“And how long have you been singing?”
“I don’t really-”
“When are you and the hairy one’s heir planning to wed?”
“What are you-?”
“Galileo, I have a question!”
Gaz sighed. As soon as he walked out the safety of the main hall, he was swept up in a sea of paparazzi and media rats. They had been asking him all these questions and the more he tried to get away the less space he had.
Everything he said was twisted. One example was a short man with a bad toupee asked, “Is Scaramouche pregnant?” Galileo answered, “I don’t think so…” he saw the man right on his note book: Galileo Figaro, a shocking father figure, has no clue if his own wife is pregnant or not, busy sex life.
For one thing, he was not a dad yet, Scaramouche was not his wife, but who were they to go on about his sex life?
“Okay, I’ve had enough….please clear off.”
“Are you threatening us Mr. Figaro?” a woman yelled from the back, suddenly a roar of camera flashes, scribbling pencils, and annoyed grunts and disapproving glares were sent his way.
Blind, deaf and annoyed, he back against a wall, hoping the girl’s were all safe.
-----------
So much could be said for Meat, who was followed by the man who had winked at her earlier. She was calmer now and wasn’t ready to punch him but she was soon at her wits end.
“Look mate, yer nice and stuff, I’m just not ready fer a relationship yet. Alright? So bugger off.” She said slightly smiling before turning and walking away again. She sighed when she heard him begin to follow her again.
“MATE! CLEAR OFF!” she growled turning around and putting up her fists. She was wearing gloves, but she wasn’t afraid to get them dirty.
He stepped back a bit and she nodded in thanks. She soon turned for the bathroom when she saw him following her once more.
“That’s it!” She growled, leaping at him with one bold jump.
-----------
“Gaz? Meat? Scara? Helllllooooo?” Mustapha called out. She was pretty short so seeing over the seas of people was going to be a problem. She was split up from Scaramouche first, then Gaz disappeared and Meat ran off trying to get rid of some guy. Mustapha sighed and gave up in a corner, sitting down and giving a little huff.
“Look, it’s the Figaro kid!” A man with a camera yelled out. Mustapha looked up a little shocked when suddenly a swarm rushed over to her and flashed the cameras.
Mustapha was blind and the flashes affected not only her eyes but something in her mind was set off. One of the chips short circuited and her eye twitched nervously. She looked around at all the people and became very scared. She had no idea who she was, where she was and who these people were.
“Who are you?” She cried covering her eyes with her hands.
“This little girl is delusional!” One man bellowed and suddenly they all started buzzing words like ‘drunk’ and ‘drugged up’. Nervous, she fled the corner and ran away, only to have the people follow her.
“Ach! Leave me alone!” She screamed dodging everyone. She tripped and landed in the lap of a complete stranger. “Oh gosh!” she whined as she saw the people flashing their cameras some more.
“Stop!” The stranger yelled and suddenly they did. Mustapha was mesmerised, they were obeying his commands.
“Leave this little girl alone!” he bellowed sending the people fleeing in all different directions.
“You helped me…” Mustapha whispered looking up; the man had slightly brown-y black hair and small glasses.
“I wouldn’t let them hurt you…” he whispered helping Mustapha stand up.
“Thanks mister.” She smiled.
“Do you remember who I am?”
“I don’t even know who I am right now, mister.”
“Ah, the flashes must have short circuited your memory. Hang on a tic.” He mumbled as he pulled off his glasses and reflected the ceiling light’s glow into Mustapha’s eyes.
She winced and fell back blinded for a bit, waiting for the black dots to stop swirling in her vision. She remembered who she was and looked up at the man who helped her.
She gasped in fright
--------------
“So like I told him that if he wasn’t ready for a serious relationship, we were through after two whole love-filled days.” A small sympathetic gasp came from all but Scara.
For the past few minutes Scaramouche’s ear had been yakked off with this nonsense and complete garbage. “Oh Scara, love, I think you’re hair is fabulous but isn’t it a little pre-bohemian?”
“Yea, you should get a makeover!” the pink gaga squealed with delight.
Scaramouche rolled her eyes, “forget my hair, can I make over your attitude?” she mumbled a little too loudly.
“Excuse me?” The purple gaga said, a bit more aggressive than Scara expected but still, as if she cared less.
“Just saying, ‘girls’ you really haven’t changed a bit since high school, have you?”
“Uh, we are bohemian now!”
“Well, you certainly look the part but you lot are still the little bitches I left behind a year ago!” Scaramouche smirked bitterly stepping away from the girls, as they gasped from her ‘profanity’ use.
Scara rolled her eyes, “Ohmigosh! I said bitch, someone slap me!” She screamed melodramatically.
“You can’t talk to us like that, you freak! We were doing you a favour!” The yellow one said pointing her finger at Scaramouche like a child.
“Freak… how I’ve missed that name.” She said with a twinkle in her dark eyes, and then she emitted gagging sounds, causing everyone around her to turn and laugh at her little display.
The Gaga’s blushing furiously unleashed their version of hell.
“You freak!”
“Whore!”
“Slut!”
“Wierdo!”
“Loser!”
Scaramouche raised an eyebrow and smirked. “Oh. Alright then, well here’s what I think of you…”
No one in the room, probably including herself, was expecting Scaramouche to slap all five Gaga girls across their made up, slutty faces.
At once.
----------------
Galileo was now practically on top of a table being pushed further and further back by the crowd.
“Please, guys, really, is this necessary? There are other people here tonight you know!” He stammered, looking at the men and women with pleading eyes, but of course they ignored it and took everything he said out of context.
Suddenly a strange surge rushed through his body. ‘Oh god, not now…’ he thought. It was dreamer-time whether he liked it or not.
“At waterloo, Napoleon did surrender!” he sang, ending with an utterly confused expression from himself and everyone else in the room.
Then, he jumped on the table and stood up facing the large crowd that was growing by the minute. “Are you ready? Takin’ care of business! You get the best of both worlds! Take me on the floor, da da da, dah dada da!” He squealed in his girly-est voice, finishing with on his knees with his fist raised towards the sky, his head flopped back.
He slowly looked up at the crowd expecting the worst, and was stunned to see they had fallen completely silent.
“Uh...thankyou very much?” He said, with a slightly scared tone in his voice.
Then a riot broke out.
-------------
Meat was now kicking and screaming, her legs in all directions, which was not a good look for someone in a dress. But she couldn’t care less, she just wanted to get at this pervert and two taller and bigger guys kept holding her back.
“Let me at him!” she kept bellowing, but her stalker just dusted of his suit and smiled.
“Oh you think this is funny, ya pervert?!” Meat growled. “Well how about this?” she yelled before swinging her foot directly into between his legs. “Yea! Not so funny now is it, lover boy!” Meat laughed bitterly as he crumpled on the floor.
But she wasn’t finished she wanted to rip him to pieces now that she had a taste.
“Let go of me, before I do to you what I did to him!” She growled at the two burly men, gesturing towards the man on the floor. They let go immediately. “The things men do for their balls, I tell ya…” she said, smirking, at the ladies who had joined the crowd. Some of them laughed and others nodded in agreement. The men just slowly backed away hoping the girl weren’t getting any fresh ideas,
“So, ya stalker, why don’t you think no means no?” She said a little too hatefully as she pulled him up by his collar, she was extremely strong for her height. The guy just winced and tried to stifle tears, admittedly Meat felt a little bad for how hard she hit him. But only a little.
“Hey, cry-baby, I’m talking to you…”
“I just…uh… can we talk in private?” he said noticing the large crowd around them.
Meat scowled at him as if he had just told her he was going to make World War III. “Oh right…” He mumbled remembering he was a creepy stalker to her.
“Well then?” Meat folded her arms and tapped her foot impatiently, which made a clunking sound.
She looked down and remembered she had worn boots today; she winced at the thought of how these boots went crashing into that guy.
“I just thought you were really… pretty?” he said a little too quietly.
“Uh huh, and what was stalking me supposed to achieve?” Meat asked squinting at the weird man. “Well now that you say it like that, I mean yea it sounds stupid but I really do…kinda like you…” he mumbled sounding like a school boy.
Meat rolled her eyes; he was sweet even if he was a perv. Then she realised what he had said. He liked her.
Then one word came out of her mouth.
“Brit…”
---------
Mustapha shivered, petrified on the floor, wishing that someone was here. Gaz, Scara or Meat, anyone just as long as they got her away from this guy.
“Why…. Why?” Mustapha stammered, it was all that she could force to come out.
“Listen, I needed to talk to you and I thought tonight might be the only chance of seeing you again.”
“Please...go…” Mustapha pleaded a tear running down her cheek; painful memories began to unlock themselves right before her eyes.
This man was the source of all her suffering as a child. He ran the Global Soft tests, he stabbed instruments into her skin, he put the chips in her brain and he even hit her for fun. She rubbed a section of her stomach that she had forgotten about.
The section with a large slash running across it.
He had decided he was sick of using his hands; he wanted to leave a mark on Mustapha to pull her back into line. There was a scalpel lying on the table next to him. He cornered the little girl with the scalpel and cut through her shirt, leaving a running mark and bright red blood, that Mustapha had no idea existed.
She winced as if experiencing the pain all over again. He noted her expression and bent down to stroke her cheek.
Scared of what hell he might unleash now that she was older, Mustapha fled the area running between people, more terrified now than ever.
“Help! Help me! Galileo, Scaramouche! Meat Loaf” She screamed as loud as she could when she realised the man was following her.
Then she reached a dead end, she was blocked in a corner. And the man stood across from her in the empty aisle she had created.
“Get him away from me!” She cried. Suddenly the two burly men walked in and grabbed the man by the arms dragging him away. He didn’t make a scene.
Mustapha was too terrified to notice; she slid to the floor and cried sobs so loud that the whole room went silent. Even the others could hear her now. But she didn’t stop she kept crying and crying trying to let the pain go away.
Not a camera flashed, no one spoke.
They just watched as the little girl poured her heart out.
----
Scaramouche whisked her head around; hearing the screams that sounded oddly familiar made her freeze, mid cat-fight. She stood over the purple Gaga and had her hands tangled in the yellow one’s hair. She stood unembarrassed whether or not she was flashing the purple one and not worrying what underwear she wore today.
“Phapha?” She muttered pulling her fists out of the tangled, matted mess of hair and stepped back, not taking her eyes of the edge of the room where the screams had come from. “Phapha!” She yelled running from the heap of whining brats.
----------
“Pardon?” the guy asked, “What’s a brit?”
Meat opened her mouth to answer when she heard the sobbing. She flicked her head around and miraculously her hair remained in the messy bun on her head. The sobs got louder as the room got quieter.
“I ‘ave to go…” Meat mumbled slowly walking before looking back at the pervert.
“But when will I-”
“I gotta go!” Meat yelled, letting her boots clunks as she stormed through the large crowds, a short Scottish blonde on a mission.
-------------
Galileo uncovered his eyes as the room went quiet, had the reporters killed each other? He hoped stupidly. He was just as relieved when he saw they weren’t looking at him any more.
“GET HIM AWAY FROM ME!”
He heard Mustapha squeal from across the room. “M-m-Mustapha!” He yelled leaping off the table and running through the crowd ignoring people yells, protests and questions.
“Mustapha! I’m coming!” he yelled even louder to make people move aside for him.
Just then, he ran into two other people who were running.
“AYE! WATCH IT MATE!”
“BLOODY HELL, WATCH YOURSELF!”
“Meat! Scaramouche!”
They all looked up and realised they had run into each other. They looked at one another dumbfounded for a while before hearing the sobs again and remembering their mission.
“W-w-we better-” Galileo began before Scaramouche put a finger to his lips. “Listen Gazza, you check the bar room, Meat you check the seating areas. I’ll check the other half of the room.”
They all nodded and leapt back onto their feet and began to search for the little pink haired girl.
--------------
It had been ten minutes and Scaramouche started to fret, she had not seen Mustapha since they had been split up. “Phapha where are you?” Her forehead had become sweaty. She decided to stop into the bathroom to wash her face and think over where she had looked. As she pushed opened the door she heard a sniff. A little, sad sniff.
“Phapha?”
“Go away.”
Scaramouche smiled sadly at the little miserable voice that came from the last stall. Scaramouche walked over and looked under to see two little raggedy green converses swaying back and forth slowly.
Another sniff sounded and Scaramouche rapped her knuckle on the door. “Mustapha, little Phapha…” she whispered sweetly, smiling softly.
Mustapha sniffed even louder and blew her nose on a piece of toilet paper that she had been nursing for a while.
Scaramouche knocked harder this time to find out the door hadn’t been locked. Mustapha sat there looking up at Scaramouche with red, blood shot eyes that were swelled with tears.
“Oh Scaramouche!” Mustapha whined crossing her arms and sobbing hard.
“Now come on, I’m like your big sister! I’m allowed to see you cry! You’ve seen me cry a few times…”
“But I’m older now…”
“Well with the way you’re acting I could’ve sworn you were a baby.” Scaramouche smiled kneeling at Mustapha’s lap.
Mustapha scowled and hopped of the porcelain bowl and began to walk out. Scaramouche rolled her eye and grabbed phapha’s hand. “Oi, what is it?” She laughed at Mustapha’s pout.
“You just don’t get it! No one get’s it!”
“We’re not going to have one of your little breaks down sessions are we?” Scaramouche sighed planting a hand on her hip.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Mustapha said a stern tone and yanking her hand back causing Scaramouche to glare at her.
“Well, it seems every time I talk to you now, you end up crying like a pathetic little baby and then we have some ground breaking discussion about how hard your life has been! I get it Phapha; you’ve had the life of a martyr! Get over it really! It pisses me off big time, mate, so just get a grip! You really want to know what I think?! I think you’re just a bitchy little girl who can’t accept someone trying to be nice to you! No wonder you have no friends at school!” Scaramouche growled stamping her foot on the tiled floor.
Mustapha raised a hand over her mouth as she gasped loudly, echoing around the white room. Immediately Scaramouche realised what she had just said.
“Is that… Is that what you really think?” Mustapha said breathing heavily, trying to prevent herself from crying, but salty tears already made their way down her pale cheeks.
Before Scaramouche could answer and apologize, Mustapha bolted from the bathroom, almost knocking out Meat.
“Mustapha! Wait!” Meat called, and she looked back in the bathroom to see Scaramouche standing there with a guilty look on her face.
---------------
Galileo walked around the bar room, it was small and he didn’t dare leave in case Mustapha came, but there were only so many times he could circle it and not look mad. Well, madder that he truly was.
“Buy you a drink handsome?” A blonde at the bar asked, she was a reporter obviously judging by the camera and pad with a pen but she seemed nicer.
“N-n-no thanks, Scaramouche will get mad if I do…” Galileo laughed even though it was true. If she found him drinking while he was supposed to be finding their little Mustapha, he was a goner.
“Sounds like a real Nazi,” The woman laughed, “Sounds like you could use a little freedom, someone with a few less restrictions…” she said standing up slowly and facing Galileo, flicking her hair back.
Galileo raised an eyebrow in confusion and before he knew it she had her lips on his, her breath and tongue entering his mouth and exploring, her hands roaming up and down his muscled back.
He tried to pull back, but she wouldn’t let go. He didn’t feel right; he felt like throwing up, he loved Scaramouche. This wasn’t right.
When he finally pushed her off she laughed hard and blew him a kiss before walking off, swaying her gaudy hips. He snarled in disgust and looked at the door way to see two sets of eyes staring at him. One were blue with a glint of green, Meat stared her jaw dropped her eyebrows crinkled in hate. The other set were a beautiful mousy brown, although now they were rimmed with tears, horribly sweet tears. Scaramouche put a hand over her mouth as she ran from the room crying, pushing through the crowds, not caring who she bowled over, she needed fresh air.
Meat rolled up her already short sleeves and marched towards Gaz, he gulped terrified of what hell Meat might unleash.
“RIGHT! MATE! Let’s get one thing straight ‘ere, ye are a complete an’ utter bastard for doing that! Especially to Scara, she’s the best thing that ever happened to ye mate! An’ you go an’ lock lips with some harlot with a tongue that’s pointier than her hips!” Meat bellowed jabbing Gaz in the chest as he backed up against a wall.
“I know, I know!” Gaz yelled before dropping to his knees. “What have I done…?” He sobbed running his fingers through his hair as tears drops as heavy as his heart dropped on Meat’s shoes. Meat stared, shocked, as Galileo continued to cry.
-----------
Mustapha stormed down the road.
“No more tears, she wants to be that way…fine!” She mumbled bitterly to herself. “I don’t need her, if she hates me then I…” Mustapha stopped and rubbed her eyes.
“Who am I kidding?! I love Scaramouche, she’s my family. Hate or no, I love her…” Mustapha sighed and then kicked a can that was on the pavement next to her. “ARGH! Why do I feel like this?! It’s horrible!”
Mustapha- HEY! Hey, hey, hey! (Stomps feet on the ground)
No I'll never look back in anger
No I'll never find me an answer (Points angrily into mid air)
You promised me you'd keep in touch
I read your letter and it hurt me so much (grabs heart and falls to knees)
I said I'd never, never be angry with you! (Jumps back up and leaps onto wall)
I don't wanna feel like a stranger no (Places one foot in front of the other, while walking on the wall)
'Cos I'd rather stay out of danger (almost falls, pinwheels arms)
I read your letter so many times
I got your meaning between the lines (Jumps up and down angrily and looses footing, falls on ground on bum)
I said I'd never, never be angry with you (sniffs, wiping eyes)
I must be strong so she won't know how much I miss her
I only hope as time goes on I'll forget her (Begins to climb up tree)
My bodies aching can't sleep at night (falls out)
I'm too exhausted to start a fight (punches a tree)
And if I see her with another gal
I'll eat my heart out 'cos I love her
Love her love her love her (jumps up and down and sits angrily on floor)
Come on baby let's get together (backwards rolls onto knees)
I'll love you baby I'll love you forever
I'm trying hard to stay away (Walks away from wall)
What made you change? What did I say? (Grips pigtails angrily and storms back to wall)
Ooh I need your loving tonight
Ooh I need your loving
Ooh I need your loving (beats legs on the ground in beat)
Ooh I need your loving babe tonight (slumps onto bum)
Hit me (Slaps her self in face and rolls across ground, picks at grass and blows at fringe in annoyance, jumps up and dances around angrily only to fall back down)
Ooh I need your loving tonight
No I'll never look back in anger (Stands up and sits against wall)
No I'll never find me an answer
Can't be no warning how could I guess?
I'll have to learn to forgive and forget
Ooh I need your loving (begs, with clasped hands)
Ooh I need your loving
Ooh I need your loving tonight (leans back on wall and groans sadly)
HMPH!
Mustapha crossed her arms and looked at the stars. “Betcha you never had to go through this!” She yelled at the sky.
“Who are you talking to?” A croaky voice sounded behind her, Mustapha turned and gasped, only to see Scaramouche sitting above her on the top of the wall, with tears stains on her pink cheeks. “Scaramouche, I should have suspected as much.” Mustapha said coldly leaning back on the wall and crossing her arms.
“I guess I deserve that…” Scaramouche mumbled submissively and wrapped her arms around her self, placing her head in her lap.
Mustapha glanced up, only to double take. Never had Scaramouche, THE bad arsed babe, taken an insult or response in that manner. Mustapha furled her eyebrows in confusion and then sighed.
She got up and sat next to Scaramouche on the wall. They did not speak, they didn’t touch, all they did was just sat and watched the sky.
“I’ll start then… I never meant to make you that mad at me, really…” Mustapha sighed not taking her eyes off of a particularly bright star. “Mustapha-”
“No, let me finish! I just never think anyone can understand, I mean after all, I am part scientific experiment, it’s not in me to understand everything. Either way, I am… sorry I suppose, I’m not sorry that I feel angry towards you but I am sorry you feel angry towards me, because I never meant to do anything to make you feel that way.” Mustapha said simply before breathing heavily, she felt a little better.
Just then, Scaramouche broke out into large sobs. “What?!” Mustapha asked, worried she had done something else wrong. “I’m just so lucky to have you…”
“Well, you have Gazza too, don’t forget,” Mustapha said smiling slightly, and then her face fell as Scaramouche began crying harder.
“That Bastard!” Scaramouche whined, Mustapha tapped her shoulder and asked what Gaz had done.
“He kissed some slut behind my back, when we were looking for you…” Scaramouche snuffled into her knees, so muffled that Mustapha almost didn’t hear her.
“Maybe… it wasn’t a kiss?” Mustapha said, innocently.
“Yeah and I’m the queen of France! They were getting it on like Pop with a bottle of whisky!” Scaramouche bawled loudly. Mustapha winced, that would not have been a pretty sight.
Mustapha was at a loss for words so she simply raised her right arm slowly and placed it stiffly and softly on Scaramouche’s shoulders, much to her surprise, Scaramouche leant in and cuddled into Mustapha.
“The worst part is he was right to do it.”
“What?”
“Look at me Mustapha! I’m certainly not the beauty queen he deserves. I mean I’m short, I’m ugly, and I need Meat to help me get a decent set of clothes together! And look at this!” Scaramouche wailed grabbing at her stomach through the red dress and squeezing it.
Admittedly she wasn’t skinny, or tall, or great at fashion, but if there was one thing Mustapha knew, it was that she wasn’t fat, a short-arse, and a gaga and most importantly she was the most beautiful girl Mustapha had ever seen, and she hoped that one day she could be just like her. Mustapha told Scaramouche all this and Scaramouche smiled sweetly.
“But she is prettier than me; I mean she’s a blonde, a skinny tall model-worthy blonde! He deserves a girl like her…” Scaramouche cried softly.
“Hey! Gazza is yours! Didn’t he tell you that back at Wembley?! And even if he does deserve a girl like that, then he certainly isn’t worthy of a woman like you!” Mustapha jumped off the wall as she explained this to Scaramouche.
“Oh Mustapha, my sweet little Phapha, what did I ever do to deserve a cheesy little kid like you?” Scaramouche laughed. She slid off the wall and leaned against the wall on the floor and patted the grass next to her, motioning Mustapha to take a seat.
Mustapha sat down and Scaramouche put an arm around her and hugged her in closely.
Scaramouche began to sing to her softly, rubbing up and down Mustapha’s cold arms.
S-Hey little babe you're changing
Babe are you feeling sore? (Looks down at Mustapha)
It ain't no use in pretending
You don't wanna play no more (Rubs her nose against Mustapha’s)
It's plain that you ain't no baby (Rocks her gently)
What would your mother say?
You're all dressed up like a lady (pats Mustapha’s skirt)
How come you behave this way? (Ruffles her fringe)
Sail away sweet sister
Sail across the sea (motions out towards the sea)
Maybe you'll find somebody
To love you half as much as me (hugs her tightly and laughs)
My heart is always with you
No matter what you do (Taps her nose gently)
Sail away sweet sister
I'll always be in love with you (Kisses her on top of her head)
Forgive me for what I told you
My heart makes a fool of me
You know that I'll never hold you (lets go of Mustapha)
I know that you gotta be free (Mustapha pulls arm back around her)
S+M-Sail away sweet sister
Sail across the sea (Hold hands)
Maybe you'll find somebody
To love you half as much as me (point to themselves)
Take it the way you want it
But when they let you down my friend (Mustapha jumps up)
Sail away sweet sister
Back to my arms again (Scaramouche pulls her back and cradles her in her lap)
S-Hot child don't you know you're young
You got your whole life ahead of you?
And you can throw it away too soon
Way too soon (Hugs her tightly and begins to cry softly)
MUSICAL INTERLUDE- Mustapha picks up a flower and puts it behind Scaramouche’s ear, Scaramouche laughs and tickles Mustapha under her arms. Mustapha calms down and they both look out towards the sea, Mustapha wipes a tear off of Scaramouche’s cheek and blows it into the wind
M- Sail away sweet sister
Sail across the sea
Maybe you'll find somebody’s
Gonna love you half as much as me
My heart is always with you
No matter what you do
Sail away sweet sister
I'll always be in love with you (Mustapha kisses Scaramouche’s cheek)
“So…we are…sisters?” Mustapha whispered, as if she would break the world if she broke the silence.
“Of course, my little Phapha, my sweet, cheesy Phapha.” Scaramouche laughed.
Just then a rustle in the bushes sounded behind them. Galileo came tumbling out, tripping over roots and ripping his suit pants. Scaramouche leapt up pulling Mustapha with her.
“Scaramouche, I-” Gaz stuttered only to be interrupted by Scaramouche.
“Don’t Scaramouche me! You broke my heart Galileo!” Scaramouche said bitterly, Galileo shivered, she had used his full name and it sounded like ice.
“It wasn’t my fault!”
“Like I’m going to believe that! Run Mustapha!” Scaramouche yelled pushing Mustapha out in front of her as they ran down the street; Mustapha glanced back at Galileo slowly before shaking her head and running again.
Galileo dropped to his knees. He’d lost them.
He’d lost his Scaramouche.
He’d lost little Mustapha.
He’d lost everything, and the awards hadn’t even begun.
TO BE CONTINUED!