Who Needs a Dream? Who Needs Ambition?

Anatoly started to respond to Freddie but the sight of "himself" singing stopped him. He looked down at the floor to hide his expression, his fingers clenching uselessly. Whoever had written this had known what he had been feeling, somehow, and that was worse then everything else combined. His soul was being laid bare for everything and Freddie to see and since he wasn't going to leave until Freddie did, there wasn't a thing he could do about it.

"No one asked you for your opinion," he said, his eyes still fixed on the ground. "You don't know anything at all."