Minute Of Decay

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Sorry for the delay, but this was a hard chapter for me to write. It's finally done, after 3500 words that is!  I hope you enjoy <3

I know that as of 2016, Marilyn is 47, however this takes place at the beginning of 2015, so he's still 46 :)

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"This is it. I'm fucked. I'm screwing the devil. I've sold my soul." -Marilyn Manson in his Autobiography

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Walking out of the theater hand in hand with Marilyn, we were laughing. "That was such a stupid movie! Thriller my ass!" I proclaim, so irritated that everyone had made such a big deal out of it. Abby and Miguel were a little bit ahead of us, lost in their own little world. Marilyn chuckles next to me.

"The best part of the movie would have to be when you dumped soda on that chick in front of you."

"Hey! Her moans were annoying, if you don't want to be disturbed when you're having sex, don't go to a theater. It's that simple!" His chuckle turns into a full blown laugh, making my heart swell with adoration. I can't help but stare at his smile, how his whole face seems to just light up as he laughs.

"Hey Ryvr?!" Abby calls back to me.

"Yes Abby dearest?" I ask in the sweetest voice I could make.

"You might want to blare the music when we get home."

I look at her strangely, "Uh... why?" She sends a wink my way before turning back to Miguel. "OH EW!" Marilyn just laughs even harder, making me nudge his shoulder. "It's not funny! Now I'll have that image in my head all night."

Marilyn nudges me back before leaning down to whisper in my ear, "I can give you another, better, image if you'd like." His words send shivers down my spine.

"What image would that be Brian?"

"Imagine you and..." He pauses, as if weighing his next words carefully. "...someone... you care about doing the same thing." My heart drops as he pulls away. See? This is what you get for thinking he cares for you as more than a friend. Idiot. I put on a fake smile.

"Thanks Brian. I'll have to remember that when the time comes." He looks down at me and nods, the smile no longer there.

When we arrive at Abby's car, I see her motioning for me to get in. I release Marilyn's hand reluctantly. "Text me?" I ask him, not sure what else to say.

"Yeah... yeah I'll text you later. See ya Kyrsten." He walks the short distance to his car before I get into Abby's, Miguel intent on driving. Shutting the door, I can't help but feel like this night went from good, to terrible.

***

Arriving home, I ignore Abby and Miguel, going straight up to my room. I look around and notice that several of my pictures on my nightstand had been shifted. "That isn't how I left you..." I whisper walking over to them. Sliding the frame back to its original position, I smile softly at the picture. It was a picture of my uncle, cousin, and myself at Ozzfest many years ago. Marilyn was on stage singing, a perfect scene for the background. I grin as I see my dyed black hair and wild make-up, my cousin punching me in the arm as my uncle downs a beer.

It was one of the few times my cousin and I didn't hate each other, and one of he few times he wasn't on drugs.

The other picture is of me and Austin, this time my hair dyed blood red with black highlights, our faces almost touching at the closeness. A white bandage was wrapped around my arm, much like now. It was the only picture I had of us, the only one that didn't bring tears to my eyes.

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