Sweet dreams are made of screams

Reach inside me

Twiggy's P.O.V:

3 days later

I wanted to go home where ever the fuck home was. I was so sick of this place and these people. We were now back stage and I never told anyone what happened with Daisy. We had just finished a show so everyone was pretty hyped, apart from me of course. I was still in alot of pain.

I sat on the black couch in the corner, alone. My hands in my lap, clutched to my old tape recorder, and my legs tightly shut together. I pressed the buttons and played things I recorded from high school. I smiled to myself as I heard Pogo and Zimmy joking about them hating eachother and then hearing them kiss. Then it went on to John and Daisy laughing as they dared Ginger to eat a bug he accidently squashed. Next was Gidget and I singing scabs, guns and peanut butter in the first year of highschool. I listened as I heard, "Put that damn thing down and kiss me, baby." Manson said, chuckling. "Mari! Get off!" My tape recorded voice giggled. " Oh? I guess I'm going to have to tickle you to death then!" He teased.

I laughed to myself in the corner and then looked up realising the whole band was staring at me. Fuck did they hear all of that? "What the fuck, Twiggy?" Ginger scowled. "Yeah, come on, man..." Pogo added, "Those days are above us." Oh. I frowned, lowering my head in shame and embarrassment. Marilyn was staring right at me. His eyes seemed glassy and his expression was pained. He caught me looking and ran off in the other direction. "What's up with him?" Ginger asked, everyone shrugged. But I had an idea as to why...

I got up and decided to follow him. " Twiggy, I don't think that's a good idea-"
"Shut it, Pogo!" And with that I left the room, slamming the door behind me.

I found him a few minutes later in the run down, pale bed room that was at the gig, sitting on the bed. I slowly opened the door and stood in front of him. He refused to look at me. "Brian?" I asked, gently. "Go away, Twiggy." I sighed and stepped closer. "Twiggy!" He slammed his fist on the bed. "Brian, I'm not scared of you no matter how much you might hurt me. You can never scare me away." He looked up at me and sniffled. Was he crying?? He looked away again. I went and sat down next to him. I stared at him for a few moments, wondering what to say.

His hand shuffled closer to me. My heart skipped a beat but I didn't have to say anything. I placed my hand over the top of his and intertwined our fingers. "Manson, look at me. Please?" I almost begged. Slowly his face came into view. He was crying, black, eyeliner tears rolled down his cheeks and off his jaw.

He took my shaky hand and kissed it whilst making direct eye contact with me. I looked away in embarrassment. "Jeordie White, don't look away from me." He ordered. I turned to face him again, my cheeks red. "Manson, wh-" I was cut off by his lips smacking against mine. Our lipstick smudging together as we sloppily made out.

He pulled me onto his lap and snaked his arms around my waist, with mine around his neck. "Mmmh, Twiggy!" He moaned into my mouth. I could feel something underneath me poking just slightly. I took this chance, I didn't know when I was going to get another, and squirmed around. My ass rubbed firmly against his crotch. He yanked on my hips and slammed my ass onto his full hard on. My eyes widened. He was never this rough before. His large hand found it's way to my clothed dick. He jerked it roughly and sucked, hard on my nape leaving multiple hickeys. I moaned his name loudly. "You like that, slut?" He growled in my ear. I nodded. "What was that?"
"Y-yes, sir!" I corrected.

His other hand made it's way down to my ass where he rubbed and slapped it. His fingers then into my boxers and to the top of my hole, he rubbed it thoughtfully. "What happened to the panties?" He whispered into my ear. "I had no one to impress." I painfully admitted. And then his finger made its way inside me, and then another and another until I was crying. Not in ecstasy but in pain. I pulled on Brian's hair, telling him to stop. He pulled them out and found his hand covered in blood. "Jeordie...?" I started to cry, attempting to hug into him to only be pushed off, roughly. I fell onto the bed in an awkward position. Brian got up and headed to the door. "No! Don't leave me!" I pleaded. His Sympathetic state turned into a hate filled scowl as he left the room.

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You think that he's yours but it's only in your head
His coffin is not your arms
Is grave is not your bed...