"Nervous?" Ginger asked from in front of me. I was sitting on the concrete floor, my back against the wall, staring blankly across the dressing room at the opposite wall. Ginger had just walked over and squatted down in front of me so that our eyes were level, and I was startled. I'd been staring straight ahead for probably ten minutes straight, listening to the shouts and screams of the audience just outside of the room of which I sat. We were in Munich, Germany, the first show of the worldwide tour.
I focused then on Ginger's face, taking in his newly applied pound of makeup. White covered his face thickly, and three black lines were drawn across each of his cheeks horizontally. His clothes were brown and ragged, making it appear as if his skin were sagging and falling off in all places. But it didn't bother me, and I locked eyes with his. "A little bit," I said quietly, "Yeah. But not too bad."
"Good," he said, giving my shoulder a little slap before standing up again. My eyes followed him as he stood. "You'll do great."
"Thanks," I muttered, and resumed my staring at the wall. Minutes passed by as I waited for Marilyn and Twiggy to enter the room. I wore my makeup heavier than usual, my face paler and my eyes much darker, but not anything too crazy. My lips were blood red though, in honor or Zim, who I, of course, could not get my mind off of. My hair fell around my face, wavy and dark with unusual volume and softness, as if something in the air of Germany changed how it naturally was. I wore a tight, black, long-sleeved jacket with a high collar and buckles that crossed my torso and squeezed my upper body. I had on solid black skinny jeans and tall combat boots with the regular chains and zippers. It was hot and steamy with all of that on, and I knew it'd be even worse on stage, but I didn't care. I was as ready as I'd ever be.
The door slammed to my left and I jerked my head up, seeing Marilyn walk in, following closely by Twiggy. They looked amazing...Twiggy wore a long, tight, silver dress, not unlike the one he'd worn during the Mechanical Animals era, and Marilyn had on a tight, black, sleeveless, button-up shirt with dark, ripped pants and high, platform boots. Marilyn's hair hadn't changed much, even with the new year, and Twiggy's was also very much the same, only having a few different places where it was already sticking up a bit. Both of them had very darkened eyes and pale makeup, and I smiled at their appearance.
"You ready?" Marilyn asked, looking down at me. I looked to my lap, my first and very favorite guitar sitting there with the strings up toward me. I'd been running my finger up and down the A string since I'd been sitting there, memorizing its feeling even more than I had over the last few years, since the day Jonathan bought it for me. I reached over, still sitting, and placed it on the stand beside me, then looked back up at the two of them. I stood and sighed, exciteded for my first time performing on stage.
Marilyn put his arms around my shoulders when I stood beside him, and did the same to Twiggy. I could tell he was drunk, but it didn't bother me. All the other people who had been drunk around me gave me nightmares, but Marilyn, Twiggy, Ginger, Laney, and of course when Zim was around...they hadn't bothered me. They didn't turn into monsters when they drank.
"Then let's go kick some ass, and give this world a show to remember," he said in a quiet, deadly voice. Ginger walked back into the room from the other direction and with a nod of the head from Marilyn, he turned to face the door that would lead us backstage. We walked through the backstage area and finally stood where we could see the gigantic, dark room ahead, full of smoke, people, screaming, and heat. I imagined briefly when I heard the noise they made...I imagined if their screaming was in fact from pain, or fear, and not just for their favorite band. As if they were enclosed in that room, maybe on fire, maybe like a concentration camp. I gave a shaky laugh...we were in fact in Germany. (Not that that meant anything towards the Germans of today. Everything was going through my head so quickly that my thoughts became strange and blurred together.)
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Hey, Cruel World - (Marilyn Manson)
FanfictionMavis Anderson is a runaway from a home that she won't talk about. When the band members of Marilyn Manson basically adopt her as their own, she realizes they are more of a family than she had ever had before...and one of them may become even more.
