One look could kill

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Twiggy's P.O.V:

I don't know how it happened but within the daze of sweat, music and cocaine my lips had found their way to Manson's clothed cock. I mouthed it, attempting to suck, in hope for some reaction, however my dreads were roughly grabbed and I was pushed off. Guess he wasn't in the mood...

"I am the God of fuck. I am the God of Fuck!" His raspy voice was poison to me. I was lured in by everything. The way he swayed his hips, his long thin torso, the way his flaccid dick was on display, only loosely covered by a thin layer of fabric. I gnawed on my inner lip as I openly gawked at him. Fuck...I just wanted his hands all over me-

Quickly I was snapped out of my arousal-filled trance as I realised what I was staring at. The green-tinted, glass bottle of wine that Pogo had foolishly decided to bring on stage had been smashed over the monitor and was currently being plunged into Brian's pale chest. My eyes widened immensely as thick crimson was drawn and began trickling down his rib cage. His eyes slanted and his teeth grounded together in obvious discomfort. The crowd screams filled the room like thousands of squawking crows. I felt sick.

Why the fuck did he do that? Why the fuck did he do That?!

-

Zim Zum's P.O.V:

I watched as Manson smashed a wine bottle and began digging a sharp slice in his chest, above his right nipple. Blood was drawn almost instantly, indicating that the cut was deep.

Everything became manic too quickly. Jeordie's face had flushed white and panic was present in his deep brown eyes. "Fuck" I whispered, under my breath. I checked Pogo but he hadn't seem to notice and I couldn't see Ginger from where I was standing.

Some of the crowd were chanting various profanities that I couldn't make out. But the majority of them whistled or screamed in excitement. Twiggy's frantic expression turned to rage and he started to flip off the audience. Manson, however, smeared his own blood all over himself as he attempted to continue to growl lyrics, deeply into the mic.

This wasn't how I planned my night...

-

Pogo's P.O.V:

The show eventually ended and I was finally coming down from my manic high. After smashing up the whole fucking stage and throwing shit at Ginger, we went back to our dressing rooms.

I was now attempting to smear my make up off when I got a loud knock on the door. Before I could say anything, Zepp Savini, our album producer and Manson's great friend, burst in through the door and began to yell about how Manson got arrested. At first I didn't believe him but then Ginger came in and practically dragged me out.

-

"What's going on?!" I shouted across the parking lot once outside, walking over to Zim who stood there attempting to comfort a shivering and sobbing Twiggy. Zim Zum looked up at me with sympathetic eyes. "Manson has been arrested." He stated. "What the fuck? Why!?" I felt my blood boil. The reason must of been fucking stupid per usual. "Didn't you see?" Ginger asked, seeming confused. "He sliced himself open" Twiggy sniffled. "He did what?!" I furrowed my drawn on eyebrows. Ginger shuffled his feet, staring down at them. We all stood there in silence for a few minutes, quietly contemplating what to do.

Another loud yell was heard. We quickly turned our heads to see Zepp pulled up in the limo. "Come on! We're gonna bail him out!"

-

Next thing I knew we were speeding down the highway to, where-ever-the-fuck the police station was. Twiggy hadn't stopped shaking. I'd never seen him looked so worried. "It's okay, sweetie, we'll get him out." Zim warmly smiled, rubbing his back. Ginger let out long sighs every couple moments whilst I tried to get my head straight. Why the fuck would he slice himself open? Yeah, I get that a couple of us are known to self harm...but not to that extent...especially not in front of hundreds of screaming fans.

-

Twiggy's P.O.V:

After what felt like hours of driving we arrived at the police station. I reached for the door handle and flead to the building as soon as the car stopped. I noticed some groupies standing outside, seeming panicked. How did they get here before us??

I had no time to think. I burst in through the door like some crazed maniac and demanded to see Brian. Suddenly a set of hands were pulling me back. I began to flail until I realised it was Ginger and Pogo attempting to stop me doing what ever it was I was doing. Zim Zum then calmly stepped in and explained to the reception why we were there. We got told to sit in the waiting room until they could find information on the 'case.'

Possibly about 30 minutes in of Pogo swinging his legs and rocking back and forth, Ginger whistling unfamiliar songs and Zimmy almost falling asleep, in the waiting area, I was becoming extremely restless and anxious. Brian must of been terrified??

"I'm...uhh...going to the bathroom" I quietly told the guys before quickly standing up and rushing around the corner. I needed to find my love...I couldn't wait. It was almost impossible for me to be without him. I really was pathetic...

I kept my head down as I quickly paced to through a cold, blank corridor, avoiding the glances of any pigs...or should I say 'cops.' I had no idea where I was going but I knew I was close when the booming sound of men's voices started to surround me.

I looked up to see cells either side of me and a too familiar voice. I silently crept up to a large steel door with a slit in the middle. I peered inside to see Manson face to face with a huge, crooked-faced guy that looked like he had just commited murder. "I said step off, dickhead!" Manson seethed, stomping his foot. Even at Manson's tall height, the other man towered over him. I guess Manson really wasn't afraid of anything. "You're poisoning this generation, you Satanist!" Another guy in the back yelled. I rolled my eyes. 'Great' I thought. they know who Brian is. "Satanist" Manson mocked back, rolling his eyes.

I had to get him out of there before those white redneck fucks beat him to
A bloody pulp. "Brian!" I squeaked out as, suddenly, more hands grabbed at my wrists from behind. I was quickly dragged all the way back to the waiting room by two police officers. Ginger, Zim and Pogo stood there with their arms crossed with unimpressed expressions like disappointed parents. "Twiggy!" Zimmy scolded. I held my head down low. "Thanks for nothing, man" Ginger huffed. "We're not allowed to bail him out until tomorrow now, dickhead!" Pogo moaned. "Sorry..." I whispered, looking to my feet, shuffling them a little.

-

We awkwardly walked out of the building after a warning from those faggot cops. Pogo over-dramatically explained what had happened to Zepp on the drive back to the bus. "Why didn't they call an ambulance for Manson anyway? He was practically bleeding to death!" Ginger added. "We could sue them." Zim suggested. "Fuck no. That's too much of a risk...Anyway, Manson could get shot in the dick and still be fine!" Pogo chuckled. I guess they were right. I still would be paranoid all night without him though...

I sighed,
"Zepp, drive us to the whiskey bar...I need to forget this shit..."

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