Chapter Two
Las Vegas
June 28th, 1997
Charlotte
"I know that things are going wrong for me. You gotta listen to my words. Heirs of a cold war that's what we've become. Inheriting troubles, I'm mentally numb. Crazy, I just cannot bear I'm living with something that just isn't fair. Mental wounds not healing. Who and what's to blame? I'm going off the rails on a crazy train."
As the echoes of the show faded into the night, I found myself drawn to the empty stage, a sanctuary in the solitude of post-performance. The Las Vegas night was alive with neon lights and the distant hum of the strip, but up here, it was just me and the lingering energy of the crowd. There's something exhilarating about standing there, bathed in the residual energy, singing softly to myself, dreaming of a future where I'm commanding such stages. It's a moment of freedom, a respite from the structured world I've known.
Tonight, I revel in that freedom. After years of being tethered to academic pursuits, trapped in the corridors of education from Florida to Michigan, this journey with Ozzfest feels like a breath of fresh air. And being with Jack and Kelly adds an extra layer of joy to the experience, a taste of the sibling camaraderie I've always longed for.
Suddenly, a voice breaks the silence behind me, jolting me from my reverie. "Hey, that sounded good. Just like him, actually," he says, amusement lacing his words.
Heat rushes to my cheeks as I turn to face him. Marilyn stands there, the stage lights casting shadows that dance across his face, highlighting his striking features. His eyes, mismatched in a way that's both unsettling and captivating, hold a spark of mischief.
"Thanks... I didn't know you were listening," I reply, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and intrigue.
He grins, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I was. And I can't wait to hear more. You were really rocking out there tonight."
"On," I correct with a shrug, trying to mask my flustered state.
He chuckles, almost humorlessly. "I even caught you singing along. Never would have thought that you were a fan."
"I'm insulted. Ozzfest isn't the first time I've seen you on stage. You guys usually put on a great show," I admit, offering a sincere compliment despite my nerves. "When you aren't literally cutting yourself open, that is."
His smile widens at my remark, and he leans in, sharing a glimpse behind the curtain of his performances. "The first time, I didn't actually set out to cut myself. Someone threw a broken bottle, and it was a spur of the moment. After that... I guess I just wanted to keep up the shock value of it."
I nod, understanding a bit more about the man behind the makeup. "You certainly know how to leave an impression," I say, my voice softening. The atmosphere feels charged, an electric current between us that's hard to ignore.
"Impressions are what I'm good at," he replies, his tone carrying a hint of vulnerability masked by bravado. He steps closer, the scent of leather and a faint trace of cologne surrounding him. "But enough about me. What about you? What's your story, Charlotte?"
"Not much to tell," I say, looking out at the sea of empty seats. "Just graduated with a degree in business management. Trying to figure out my place in the world. This tour is a way to take a break before diving into the 'real' world."
"Business management, huh? Sounds like you're a lot more grounded than I am," he says, his gaze never leaving mine.
"Maybe," I reply, meeting his eyes. "But that doesn't mean I don't have my own chaos. Everyone does, right?"
YOU ARE READING
The Speed Of Pain
FanfictionMM/OFC Her love is his pain. It makes him feel in a way that he never intended. He sees everyone as mechanical. She sees everyone for who they really are. They're polar opposites but fit together like matching puzzle pieces. Follow along through the...
