The Project (Marilyn Manson fanfic)

Chapter 7

Maily's POV

Marilyn never asked in detail of what happened at the party. Which was good. Alex and I don't talk at all to each other. We both just know that we're done. Well, there goes the first boy I ever liked. A part of me feels as if I should've known better. It was nice though. What we had. Alex was so sweet to me. I can't ever forget us though. A lot of girls try to forget their ex, not me. I like to look back on memories that make me happy. Am I mad at Alex still? I'm fucking furious. It's okay though. It's always okay for me.

I take my seat next to Marilyn in the cafeteria. He smiles at me. I smile back kindly. We've been hanging out more and more.

"Hey," I finally say. He stuffs a french fry in his mouth.

"Hi." He says midway through chewing.

"Close your mouth, idiot." I giggle. He just smirks. An awkward silence rises. This usually doesn't happen.

"Maily?" Marilyn calls out. Our eyes meet. His eyes are filled with...lust. He bites his lip and looks down as if he's not worthy to look at me. "Th-there's something-"

"Hey, Marilyn!" Someone shouts. We both turn to see a guy who's bald with a small goatee.

"Shit." Marilyn mumbles.

"Who's he?"

"N-no one. Please don't pay attention to him." It was kind of too late for that. He sits in between us. He slings his arm around Marilyn. This guy reeks of alcohol with a hint of weed. I scrunch my nose. I probably look so disgusted.

"What, Pogo?" He hisses. This 'Pogo' guy smirks.

"So, I finally got a hold of the stuff you requested-"

"I don't want to talk about it right now!" Marilyn nearly shouts. "Please."

"So, that means you don't want it?"

"Yes. Just- how much?" I start to panic. What stuff? Please no. Stuff only means one thing.

"Brian, what is he talking about?" I plead. Pogo turns to me. He licks his lips in a seductive way. Well, more of a perverted way.

"Who are you?" He asks huskily.

"Um, Maily-"

"No one. Just leave her alone!" Marilyn shouts.

"Mm." He places a hand on my thigh. His hand slides up. I slap it away.

"Leave her alone!" Marilyn shouts. Pogo gives him a warning look.

"Let's make a deal, Warner."

"What?" He turns back to Marilyn. He whispers something to him. Marilyn tenses up. His face shows panic. "N-no."

"Well, don't you want the stuff?"

"Yes." He hisses, desperately.

"Then call me when you're outside my place. Tonight or else I'll give the stuff to someone who'll pay me more."

"Can't I just give you something else." Marilyn pleads.

"No." Pogo grins which gives me an uneasy feeling. "See you tonight." Marilyn stares at the floor devastated. His eyes showing no emotion. His face turns more white as the minutes pass.

"What did he say." I place a hand on his shoulder.

"Do you want to go to my house to work on the project?" He changes the subject.

"S-sure." He nods.

"Okay." His voice cracks like he's going to cry. "I have to go." He gets up and leaves.

***

We walk over to his house after school. We have some light conversations. It starts to turn dark and the street lights flicker on.

"I live a little bit closer to the school." I comment. He nods. I look up at his beautiful face. Yes. I can admit. I like him. His chocolate brown eyes, that seem full of sorrow, stay fixated on the cement ground. His black hair, that are like the silkiest drapes, hang from each side of his face. His plump pink lips shape into a small frown.

"I'm sorry." He mumbles, barely audible.

"For what?" I ask.

"Forget about it." He waves to dismiss the idea. I shrug and follow him. He finally leads up to a house. It's a small one story house. The grass has a hint of green with some weeds growing here and there. The windows are dusty.

"Where are your parents?" I ask seeing that no cars are parked on their driveway.

"Who knows. My mom left me and my dad. My dad is probably out drunk or high as fuck. Just like me. Except somewhere else, like at a bar."

"I-I'm sorry." He just nods as we enter. Maybe the reason he's a delinquent is perhaps his environment. It's actually quite sad. He's nice once you get to know him...

"How about we blow the whole thing and drive somewhere?" He asks me.

"Oh, um. Sure. Where?" He seems to panic by this question of where we are going.

"S-somewhere." I shrug and smile.

"Okay." He walks me to his car which is parked in the garage. We drive off in silence at first.

"You can put a cassette in." He tells me. I go through his collection. I pick one that says 'my favorites of The Cure' in writing on a sticker. I shove it into the stereo. The Lovecats starts playing. I tap my foot to the bass. None of us talk. I enjoy the car ride on the other hand Brian looks tense and terrified. I place my hand on his thigh.

"You okay?" He gulps and nods. He pulls up to a driveway to a house. This house seems even more beat up than Marilyn's. "What are we doing here." He picks up his thick phone. He dials a number quickly. A tear runs down his pale cheek. "Brian?" I squeak out.

"We're here." He whispers, his voice as rough as sandpaper. "I'm sorry." He repeats to me. "Sorry. Sorry. Sorry-" we get interrupted by the sound of my door opening.

I start to scream as someone tightly wraps a blindfold on me. This person drags me away from the car by my waist.

"Come on, sugar. Let's have fun." The person says. I fight as much as I can.

"Please! Brian!" I shout for help.

"It was a fair trade, my darling."

The person chuckles darkly. I remember that chuckle from anywhere.

Pogo.