[ WP ] It 's your 3rd day being held hostage by a criminal cell , and you 've made friends with one of your captors .

I could n't sleep. Lying on the flea-infested mattress, I slid my eyes over to where The Skinny One sat, listening to an iPod. Everyone else was asleep. Funny how even terrorists look innocent when they're snuggled up in the foetal position. All was quiet, apart from the tinny music coming out of The Skinny One's headphones. I strained my ears, trying to figure out what he was listening to. I was surprised when I recognised the lyrics: 
 
 *I'm on the right track, baby, I was born this way* 
 
 It took me back to that hot summer night, in that tacky bar. I'd felt like I had n't a care in the world, chatting up George, before we were all rounded up and captured. That night felt like years ago, not a mere 72 hours. Now, George lay beside me on the mattress, but the context was all wrong. He had a gash on the side of his face where the Leader One had hit him. I wished I could close my eyes and pretend we were back in my hotel room, drinking wine. But I could n't. The Skinny One was mouthing the words to the song. He was kinda cute, though I felt guilty for thinking it. Tall, slim, big brown eyes, slicked back hair, impeccable uniform. He caught me looking at him and his hand instinctively reached for his gun. I knew he would n't use it. The others mocked him for being cowardly. I held up my hands, which were bound in rope, palms forward, to show him I meant no harm. He took one ear bud out of his ear. 
 
 `` You like Lady Gaga?'' I whispered. 
 
 He looked momentarily surprised. `` Lady... Gaga?'' 
 
 I knew he did n't speak much English. I nodded. 
 
 `` My favorite song by her is Poker Face,'' I whispered. 
 
 His face broke into a grin. `` Ahh, yes! I have that one!'' he whispered back. 
 
 He inched closer, and started flicking through his iPod, showing me the songs he had. A lot of numbers from famous musicals- Rent, Sound of Music, West Side Story. This dude was camper than tents. 
 
 `` You like Brittany Spears?'' He looked at me eagerly with those big chocolate-ly eyes. 
 
 `` Listen, uh, Sergio? If they find out about you, they'll kill you. It's obvious you are a homosexual.'' 
 
 His eyes flickered in alarm. `` What? No! That is not true!'' he hissed. `` I am not dirty fag- faggot like you!'' 
 
 At that moment, the Fat One stirred. Sergio's eyes pleaded me to stop talking. He did n't want to have to hurt me. The Fat One gave Sergio a suspicious look and whispered furiously to him, before hitting him across the head. Sergio gave a yelp and lay down on his mattress. It was the Fat One's time to keep watch. As he paced back and forth, Sergio settled down, pretending to sleep. I saw him flicking furiously through his iPod. He turned to face it to me. On the tiny screen there was a picture of a blonde woman. I squinted, trying to read the small print above. 
 
 It was Gwen Stefani's hit song, *Sweet Escape. * 
 

