We're from America (Marilyn Manson)

Third Day of a Seven Day Binge

The day finally arrived. Today they would begin recording the songs for the next album. They went back to no contact at all after Twiggy's party. The only thing that changed was their hostility toward one another. If it was uncomfortable for the rest of the band before, now they just didn't want to be within fifty feet of them. The thought of the upcoming weeks of recording and then the several months of the upcoming tour, made everyone feel sick to their stomachs.

Brian got ready quickly and then glanced at his drug cabinet. He walked over and opened it. Seeing the baggie of H made anger bubble inside him. This trash was more important to her than him. Well then, maybe he should use it against her. A little bit of mental torture wouldn't hurt anyone. Except for her, of course. He grabbed the baggie and the necessary tools. "Oh, Molly. You have no idea what I am capable of."
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They all met in front of the studio. Molly had gotten high but in the last week it had definitely not been enough. She was smoking a Marlboro Red and talking to Daisy. "It's pretty crazy that we got them all down so quickly. How does this usually go? Do we record one song per day, or?" This was of course very new to her. "Well, yeah. It would be too much if we tried to do more than one a day. Usually, we try recording it in the first go. Then we listen to it with the producer and find what wasn't okay and then we repeat the process until it's perfect." She nodded in response. "Did you watch the new episode of Twin Peaks last night? Is it just me, or did David Lynch go Lynch on himself? Like I didn't get what the fuck was going on." She said to Daisy. "Oh yeah, total mind fuck. I was looking forward to it so much, and then this happened. Sort of disappointed." He replied. "Yeah, same. It's still total nostalgia, though."

Their conversation was cut short when Manson joined them. He didn't say anything, as always. They were all quiet. He lit his cigarette and they all had another one. Twiggy was the only one brave enough to speak. "Which one are we recording today?" "Third Day of a Seven Day Binge." His raspy voice answered.

The rest of their cigarette break was spent in silence. When they were done, they followed him inside. Each of them grabbed their instruments and waited for the sign to begin. Marilyn spoke to the producer in the next room. They saw him through the window that showed them the production room. They couldn't hear what they were saying, because the room was sound proof. Then they heard a voice through a speaker on the ceiling. "Hey guys. Manson told me that we're recording Third Day of a Seven Day Binge today. I'm looking forward to be doing this with you again." They all waved at him. Then Marilyn joined them and grabbed the microphone.

"We'll do a practice run first." he spoke into the mic. James gave the first beat and he joined her. Then Twiggy added the bass and Daisy started playing his parts. It was great. The song felt like being high. And when Marilyn started going in to the high notes, James felt shivers go down her spine. She couldn't help herself. Even though she hated him, she still loved him in her own way. And he knew his way around music. All in all, it was the most glorious try they had up until now. When they finished, it was time to do it again. This time for real. First they recorded the instrumental parts. It was odd doing it without his voice. Then he recorded his parts.

Then the producer played it for them. After the song was over, Marilyn thought for a moment. "It's not authentic enough. I think I need to get high to give it that real binge feel." With that he sat down on a couch in the room and pulled out his heroin kit. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? You know that Molly struggled with addiction! Do you want her to relapse?" Daisy lost his shit. He protectively stood next to Molly and grabbed her hand.

Brian just shrugged and gave her an evil smile. She tried to stay calm but the all too familiar itch started spreading through her. Twiggy and Pogo started protesting too. Molly's head felt like it might explode. She was overwhelmed by her need for heroin, and by the sound of three voices telling Manson to go fuck himself. They were all screaming at him but she couldn't make out any words. She never broke eye contact with him. He kept smiling evilly. Her breathing became hoarse. She felt her heart thumping loudly in her ears. And she couldn't take it anymore. She left the room in a hurry. Only when she walked out into the fresh air could she regain control over her body. She sat on the cold pavement and hastily lit a cigarette.