The Speed Of Pain

Whirlwind

Chapter Three

Berlin, Germany

Charlotte

As Marilyn laces his fingers with mine, we stride across the street en route to Huxley's for the band's sound check. The vibrant energy of the city fills me with childlike wonder, and Marilyn leads me along, understanding my fascination.

After Ozzfest, Marilyn surprised me by inviting me to join him on the Canadian leg of the Dead To The World tour. It was an offer I couldn't refuse, given our growing closeness since that memorable night in Vegas. And when the Canadian leg ended, extending my journey to the European leg felt like the natural next step. Needless to say, I gladly accepted.

Kelly and Jack weren't thrilled when I announced my departure. Aimee, ever the loner, seemed indifferent, her solitary nature keeping her aloof from the family dynamic. But enduring her endless repetition of "One (Is The Loneliest Number)" on repeat made joining Marilyn on tour an easy choice. Sleeping in his bunk, wrapped in his arms each night, became an unexpected bonus.

My dad's reaction was hardly surprising. From the moment I began traveling on Marilyn's bus, he predicted I wouldn't be coming back, convinced that Marilyn had cast some sort of spell over me. Whether that's a good or bad thing remains to be seen.

Sharon, with her mix of maternal concern and laissez-faire attitude, gave me the standard "have fun but not too much" talk. Not that I've ever been one to indulge in excess, unlike the rockers we're surrounded by. Marilyn himself knows how to party, but from what I've seen, it's not a cause for concern...yet. I just hope he doesn't lose himself in the hedonistic whirlwind that surrounds us.

But amidst the chaos and excitement of tour life, I find myself wrestling with confusion. Marilyn's obvious interest in me is tempered by a surprising lack of physical intimacy. There have been moments when I've nearly taken the initiative, only to be interrupted by phone calls, arrivals at important destinations, or the sudden appearance of others. It's left me bewildered and craving more, though I appreciate his apparent desire to take things slow.

"Keep up, Char, we're going to be late," Marilyn's voice breaks through my reverie, grounding me in the present.

Shaking off my distractions, I quicken my pace. "Sorry, I just love this city."

"We'll explore before we leave tomorrow," he assures me, glancing back. "I just want to get paid for tonight."

It's easy to forget the pressures of the tour when we're immersed in the excitement of a new city. But Marilyn's reminder brings me back to reality, reminding me of the responsibilities we share in ensuring the success of each performance.

As we reach Huxley's, the venue's neon lights cast a colorful glow over the bustling crowd outside. Fans are already gathering, their excitement palpable in the crisp evening air. Inside, the sound of instruments being tuned and roadies hustling to set up creates a buzz of anticipation.

Marilyn leads me through the backstage area, navigating the maze of equipment and personnel with practiced ease. He introduces me to various crew members and fellow musicians, all of whom greet me warmly, recognizing me from our previous tour stops.

We finally reach the stage, and Marilyn releases my hand, giving me a quick smile before joining his band for the sound check. I find a spot off to the side, watching as they go through their set, adjusting levels and ensuring everything is perfect for tonight's show.

As I stand there, soaking in the atmosphere, a familiar voice behind me pulls me from my thoughts. "Hey, Char," Johnny says, his presence a welcome surprise.