Never Been to a Marilyn Manson concert? [Reader P.o.V]

You know you're a fan when the ticket in your hand makes you drool. Oh yes, this is all you've wanted for a long time.

The time on the ticket is 7:00 pm, the clock on the stove blinks 6:25 several times before ticking a minute faster.

"Have fun, my little rocker." says your mom. She was always into the concert scene "when I was your age," she would say. "Just remember, be alert, be smart, and have a good time, kid." She fixes the jacket on your shoulders.

Dad is shrugging his acceptance to you. It took his whole entire life to tame your mother into adulthood, looks like tonight would be the start of a whole new chapter of his disapproval of you. He opens the front door and half-seriously jestures "out."

A car screams to a halt on the curb of your driveway. The light of the night makes the earth around look as dark and mysterious as the surface of the moon.

"We're oudda here! Let's role!" Your friend shouts from the drivers seat. In the back, are those two other guys you see hanging around school that you've never talked to, little did you know that after tonight, y'alls would be the greatest friends anyone had ever seen.

*

The drive is long and eventful, the city speeds past you like firefly lights against the deep dark sky. The car speeds over the limit, your too exited to follow the rules. The system is blaring music to get you pumped for the time of your life soon to follow, everyone sings:

"HEY. YOU. WHAT DO YOU SEE? SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL IS SOMETHING FREE? HEY. YOU. ARE YOU TRYIN' TO BE MEAN? IF YOU LIVE WITH APES MAN IT'S HARD TO BE--

*everyone screams* CLEAN!!!!!"

*

Hell ya, pull it over. Get out of the car. There's screaming to greet you.

The harsh wind of the night in your ears, excited fans, a city. . .alive at last. They scream in waiting. All screams seem to want:

Manson

Manson

Manson

Until you hear the hiccup. The disturbance in the fun.

A garish man with clean clothes, the bible, on a soap box, crying: "Let Jesus Christ be your salvation! Be tempted not by the voice of Satan's sinful will and come to G-d for mercy! Do not burn in hell with this villain!"

His aisles of partners attack the door so you cannot get through, cry as well: " Take this! . . . Read this! . . . We're merciful! . . . Listen to G-d!"

They are at an angle in your narrowed vision. Unuseful, uneeded. Disregarded.

"Don't stop." Your friends say, pulling your sleeve.

(Believe it or not. That was one of my favorite parts of the concert. It was scary. . .forbidden. . .as if Halloween had come early just for US)

*

Tickets. Please. Here you go, jackass.

Inside, security was nice about your less than normal-feeling clothes. A simple rub on the private areas, and you passed. Your pals are more anxious though, knowing that their particularly sharp accessories slowed the process.

"Get your asses over here," you say, "I'm not missing this."

Everyone stands wherever. The stage is quiet, the people are mingling. The most attractive young people float around you like wax sculptures of their antichrist idol. Mmm.