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Galileo has heard voices for all his life. Thudding, deafening, yet melodic voices, that seemed wrong to hear as a kid growing up on the iPlanet, yet felt so natural, like if the carefully woven threads of fate itself willed this. Who was he to say no to fate?
It hasn't done him favors, sure. If anything, it alienated him even more from his peers. The kids around him all seemed so put together, with loving families and no trace of any desire to change anything about the world around them. They just looked so content with the mindless scrolling, programmed music, so happy with what they already had.
He didn't get why he didn't - couldn't - feel that way. Couldn't understand what the words and noises in his head meant, couldn't understand why they were there in the first place, why this was happening to him specifically.
Looking back, it wasn't all that surprising that he spent most of his childhood alone. People could call him crazy all they wanted, hell, maybe they were even right - not that he'd admit it. But the fact that he heard music in the given circumstances, was a huge indicator that something wasn't right. How could he have heard music if it was banned, if it wasn't for a greater purpose? There was no chance for anyone to listen to anything aside from the monotone, computer generated bullshit Globalsoft played over and over again until it felt so alien that it made him sick.
The teachers thought he was kidding. They assumed that he was just passionate about the programmed music. That maybe he believed that this was what would be needed so that he could program music too.
Well that couldn't have been further from the truth. He suspected that if he were to work in that field, he would be the one to put an end to his misery. Hell, maybe he'd even make the news, the internet would be flooded with those surprised, brainwashed people, crying out how they didn't know that could happen - utter bullshit. But maybe then, they'd realize that Globalsoft is corrupt. Maybe.
Of course, realistically, he was aware that Globalsoft would not let it spread to the internet. They had full control over the media, after all. If they didn't want the people to know, then the people wouldn't know. It was simple.
But something burned inside him. An all-consuming flame that made him want to break free from the monotone cycle of it all. It made him want to bring change, to make everyone realize that there was more to life than programming and reliving every day for the rest of their existence without a choice about anything.
He didn't even remember his parents, he was too busy with the noises in his head, even when he was a young child, to properly memorize the way his family once looked.
For all he knew, they could've been taken by Globalsoft, possibly murdered for giving birth to a kid like him in a place as "perfect" as the iPlanet. What else was he meant to believe? Never once has he gotten a proper answer for his questions, that lead to his brain filling in the missing information with his delusions.
On second thought, the teachers weren't all that bad. They didn't hate him like the GaGa kids did, or at least didn't show any signs of it. They gave him food so that he wouldn't starve, so at least that must've meant that they didn't want him dead, right?
So he believed them, and made sure not to cause any more problems for them than they already had. He felt like he owed it to them. He wasn't the worst student; sure, he didn't get along with the others, and more often than not daydreamed in class, but at least he wasn't the one to initiate bullying. He usualy chose to stand off to the side and just get through the day without drawing much more attention to himself.
That was, until it all came crashing down when he turned 14. He eventually had to realize just how distant everyone was from him. He didn't understand why. He's just a kid, it's not like he's a national threat, right?
Either way, the years of being alienated made something in him snap.
That's how he found himself acting more like a rabid dog than a human whenever he had to interact with people. He tried to frustrate the GaGa kids so desperately - that was partially the reason that he started dressing differently to them. He didn't have it in him to hurt them, he was built like a stick, but maybe they'd throw a punch, hell, even beat him to the ground. It wasn't until years later that he realized, that it wasn't exactly normal to wish to be hurt to have a reason to justify how he was.
The teachers did not like that. It sometimes felt like they wanted him alive, but without living a life for himself. But he'd be damned if he sacrificed his life for a system that couldn't care less about him.
He couldn't care about the opinion of others anymore. If they weren't willing to accept him when he was trying to appeal to them, then why should he bother?
He slowly learnt how to stand up for himself - it took years, but it was progress. He couldn't fight back much, but he knew how to dodge punches, whether they were physical or verbal.
His teachers wanted the best for him. He knew that. He had to believe that, otherwise he probably would've lost his mind even more in that damned place. There was a reason they wanted him to go into music programming so bad. He had a feeling that it wouldn't lead to anything good for him if he was captured once Globalsoft found out he was unlike the GaGa kids. He had to have been a fool to think otherwise.
Yet he'd done nothing to change himself. If he had to die a martyr, his life a sacrifice for all the people who dreamt of individuality, then he'll gladly face death.
Well, that was what he thought until he saw just what Globalsoft was capable of. He was thankful that his brain blocked out most memories of the attack on the Hearthbreak Hotel. His heart wouldn't have been able to take it if he remembered the Bohemians faces when Khashoggi found them, all because he unknowingly had been tracked.
But at least Scaramouche was there for him. The girl wasn't like the GaGa kids at all, no: she had individuality, just like him.
She got him. He was stubborn to admit it, but she saw into his soul in a way that no one has before. Sure, she hid that empathy under thick layers of sarcasm, but he couldn't blame her. He knew how it felt like to grow up in a system where he's been alienated all his life.
They argued a lot, true, but they were the first to stand up for the other in case someone would've attempted to hurt them. Maybe this was what it felt like to have a friend.
Living with the Bohemians was refreshing, to say the least. They were nothing like the GaGa kids, nothing like the teachers were. He didn't have to pry away the layers of deception and search for clues of manipulation. They were upfront and honest, and while it sometimes tore into his soul to hear the truth about things, it felt better than having to contemplate whether he was being lied to.
He heard from all those around him, that he was meant to be the one to save them. That he was the Dreamer. They believed that he would lead them to victory, to regaining their independence from the corruption of Globalsoft. So he went along with it, listened to them as they sang their praises and accepted him into their circles, their trust a warm embrace after the storm the iPlanet meant in his life.
In reality, he had no clue what he was doing. He went with what felt right, not a second thought, not a glance back at how his actions or words may've affected those around him. The trust they put in him felt overwhelming at times, he didn't dare stop and think about the consequences of all he'd done, fearing that he'd find pain in his wake.
When Scara confronted him about his behavior, he still didn't dare admit anything. He preferred to be tunnel-visioned and ignorant to the potential pain he could've caused, not once asking if he had done harm. For someone who didn't want to be the cause of anyone's pain, he spewed ignorance in his every interaction with the girl.
Her attempts of enlightening him fell on deaf ears.
It was only after they had defeated Killer Queen and recovered the Bohemians' memories, that he started to reflect on what he's done. He had fulfilled his destiny, now it was time to untangle the mess his life was.
As much as she hated him for how self-centered he acted, Scara was willing to help him become less of an asshole, for both their sakes.
With her by his side, he was willing to try.