NO WAY IN HELL! (P2) - Gothic Trauma

NO WAY IN HELL! p2: Gothic Trauma - Chapter Seven

Marilyn's POV:

I'm not dumb, nor deaf.
I knew that Twiggy was listening in while I was talking to Scott, and I knew what happened after he found out that Scott was getting booted from the band.

When I had walked back inside the bus, a pang of jealousy struck my nerves as I saw Jeordie carefully placed upon Stephen's lap.
I nodded at Pogo and he did the same back to me.
I guess you could say we've sort of made up, sort of.

We're slowly pushing what happened five years ago behind us. We need to at least work together if we're gonna be in the same band.

I could still hear Twiggy's soft sobs echo through the bus, but they were barely audible due to Scott's frantic tantrum.

The bus shook lightly as he threw all his seen belongings into his suitcases, the occasional cry or groan escaping his lips. Him being strung out on cocaine at the moment didn't help either.

My jaw clenched. "Hurry the fuck up Scott!"

A blue suitcase was flung towards my direction almost immediately, closely followed by three more and then a Daisy.

His eyes were red and puffy and his bottom lip was trembling.
I started him down, and nodded my head towards the door.

He left almost instantly.

------------------------🌷------------------------

Pogo' POV:

I put Twiggy's head down gently upon my pillow. The poor doll had fallen asleep, sobbing, in my arms.

Rage was flowing through my veins and I needed to get up before I did something really moronic.

Marilyn was sitting at the small kitchen table, a glass of absinthe touching his red painted lips, his eyes lost in a world of their own.

I slammed my balled fists onto the table, making the bottle of poison shake and topple over.

"Why in the fuck Brian?!"

He didn't look surprised. His hand shifted to his bottle of absinthe and put it carefully back up standing. He shifted his eyes towards me, then his whole body, his leg crossing over the other, his head cocked to the side, and a faint frown poised upon his lips.

"You knew exactly what was going on Stephen"
I narrowed my eyes at him, but I let him continue.

"You knew this would happen, and you knew EXACTLY that he was NOT fit for a band!"
His chest rose as he got more agitated by the second, yet he managed to keep his cool and stay calm.

He's always been that sort of person, you can see him blowing up inside, but his exterior always seems so calm and collected.
Matters are the opposite when something's really, really bothered him.
You're like a moth to a flame if you pushed him to the brink of him losing his shit.

"Rehab, Counselling, I even had to sit down and at least try to slap some sense into him"
He bought the glass of absinthe to his lips and took a long sip, I took this chance to speak.

"You damn fucking well didn't have to kick him out though! And what happened to discussing with the rest of the band before making decisions like this huh?!"

His eyes flicked from me to the tiled floor, a look of regret was shown visibly, yet he still payed attention to what I was saying, even though I knew he didn't want to hear it. He doesn't want our opinions. When he's fixed on his own, it won't change from there.

"Don't think this only affects you Brian, it affects me, it affects Jeordie, it affects us all"

"Do you know how much pain Ginger's going to be in when he find out? Had you ever thought about how much it-"

"YES of course I did!" He boomed. His eyes now drowning with fury.

I took a step back, letting him speak.
"Of course I thought about everyone Stephen, so don't you dare go accusing me for shit"

He took another breath and I could really tell he was trying to keep it together.

"Yes we fuck around with drugs, but he was hooked Stephen, he was hooked. Three fucking years I've been debating whether or not to do something about it. We can't just have a full on junkie in this band, we have to much to focus on"

I nodded, my jaw clenched. "Alright" I spoke firmly, turned, and left.

With soft hands, I lifted Jeordie from one side of my bunk to the other, and with a slow motion, I crawled my tired self into bed, closing my eyes instantly, just wanting to get this night over.

I understand what Marilyn was saying, and I see exactly what he means and where he's coming from.
I just choose not to believe it. It hurts too much to think that he doesn't care about Scott.

I grunted loudly when a hot drop of salty water fell from my eye to my cheek.
Almost immediately I wiped it away and sniffed, not wanting to accept the fact that I am human. And I cry.

I just don't want the same thing to Scott as it did to Gidget.

-

-

-