Categories > Celebrities > Marilyn Manson > Dear Diary
All That You Have For Me In Sin
0 ReviewsBrian was so sweet, sweet to me at least. My sweet, sweet little agony.
Sweet Sweet - Smashing Pumpkins
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All That You Have For Me In Sin
We lay in quiet for what seemed like hours, it probably was. We didn't move, barely even slept, we just listened in darkness to sounds of busy traffic drowned by the continuous down pour outside, I was surprised that London hadn't been flooded yet. I could here Brians heartbeat patter calmly against his chest in beat with the rattle of rain drops upon the window glass, his right arm was outstretched across the bed which we and re-made with the sheets we'd found on the floor. My head was propped atop of his chest, rising and falling to the movement of his steady breath. I traced his illustrated arms and admired the obscurity of the artwork which lay there whilst Brain danced his elegant fingers over my exposed forearms and examined the many faint, white lines of self mutilation which had been buried into my skin. Even though I was facing away from him I could feel his expression burn into me. He wasn't disgusted, he wasn't even surprised that the scars were there because of course, I'd told him about what I'd done to myself, but I also sensed that he was except-ant of them, that he was except-ant of me like no one else ever had been. No one apart from my mother.
I began to drift in and out of a light sleep, forever aware of Brain's fingertips across the surface of my skin telling me that he was still awake. He did not sleep at all that night, his touch continued to flutter over my body and I felt his features turn vague as he stared into one of the corners of the hotel room, his mind suddenly heavy with thought. If there was one thing I'd learnt about Brian within the small amount of time I had known him then was that no matter how much I thought I understood him, there was always an air of mystery about. When I couldn't read his expression I found it especially difficult to tell what he was thinking and I couldn't quite work out whether this excited or scared me. In all honesty I think it did both.
We remained alone, in each other's silent company until the early hours of the morning. I heard voices outside the room, the scratch of a key trying to unlock the door by an intoxicated hand and a mess of curses after they missed. On the sixth attempt the door swung open and smashed into the already ruined wall leaving an ugly dent. Four men stumbled into sight, the yellow lighting from the hallway filled the somber room and highlighted their drunken faces as they fell over one and other laughing incorrigibly. "Fuck it." Brian grumbled and rolled onto his stomach in order to shield himself from the burning light and his band mates. He quickly threw the quilt over the nakedness of my body so not to ruin my decency but his actions could never hide us from the taunting jeers coming from the men. "Look, Mar-i-lyn has a lady friend." Twiggy giggled and tripped closer toward us, the smell of whiskey grew stronger as he did so. The other's choked and snorted in attempt to stifle their childish snickers at the 'hilarious' situation which involved me in bed with Marilyn Manson. "Where have you been Mr.Mar-i-lyn?" Twiggy slurred, emphasizing each syllable of Brian's stage name with his rhyme. "I've been about. What does it matter to you, Twiggs?" He growled, clearly uncomfortable with how he was being antagonized. Twiggy however failed to notice the irritability in his friends tone and decided to plonk himself next to me on the bed. He took a swig from his whiskey bottle and stared at me with wide orbs, I stared back, not quite sure how I should feel as he eyed me. "You're the girl from Kerrang!" He suddenly shrieked. "Hey guys, Mar-i-lyn banged an English chick!" They all cheered as if I was some sort of accomplishment, an an award that Brain had achieved and although I should have been offended by their behavior I couldn't help but smile at how goofy they were, besides I was sure they had no idea what was actually going on anyway. "Fuck you guys." Brian hissed. "Go and pass out or something, haven't you got some bitch to screw?" They all burst into hysterics again as if Brian had told them some ridiculously funny joke. Pogo, Zim Zum and Ginger piled themselves onto the other double bed, which we hadn't bothered to make, in a jumble of drunken limbs and fits of laughter. Twiggy closed his eyes and smiled as he sunk further into the pillow next to me, cradling his bottle to his chest. "We left some hookers at the bar Mar-i-lyn, they were boring." Twiggy explained, still oblivious to Brian's anger. "We had groupies the other night when you weren't here though, but I guess you had better things to urm, do." He exploded into more giggles and threw his skinny arms into the air dramatically which caused his whiskey to spill all over the green dress hanging loosely to his frame. Brian's temper, which was now proving to be wrathful, was sure to go either of two ways. It could erupt into a mayhem of exacerbated fury, or it could give up and relent into his mind's tiredness. Thankfully it did the latter as Brain seemed to be used to the actions of his band members. He soon grew bored and dropped his head into his folded arms, muttering to me about how I should put my clothes back on. I did as he said, not because he told me to but because I had work and it was already half six in the morning. I dressed myself quickly under the protection of the quilt and then crawled over Brain to escape my sandwiching between him and the whiskey drenched Twiggy. "Hey where're you going?" He asked, still laying flat on his stomach. "I have work in half an hour." I replied. Brian pouted and widened his eyes in order to make himself look alike to some poor little animal that I should have felt sorrow for. "Do you have to go?"
"Yes, it's my last day tomorrow, but don't worry." I mocked and pecked his falsely saddened lips. "I'll be back soon." With that I grabbed my satchel and exited the room leaving Brian alone with his crew, who were by then blacked out and preparing themselves for a tremendous hangover.
As I drove from the hotel to work, the rain still thundering through London, a strange sensation crawled around my insides. I couldn't work out what it was, neither could I fathom the reason for the grin plastered to my face for the entire journey. I still couldn't get my head around the fact that I had been genuinely laughing let alone that the sensation could have possibly been happiness. It was odd, I thought to myself as I pulled up outside the Kerrang studios. Odd, that as I tied my disgruntled hair into a topknot, whacked some lip-gloss on and popped a peppermint into my mouth that I still couldn't wipe that god forsaken smile away, it refused to budge. Could it really have been that Brian was the cause for all this? Could he, the weird looking man with a pointy nose and hair longer than my own who I had only met days before, truly be the descender for my long lost happiness? The idea buzzed around my head like insanity as I walked into my place of work. I had been so caught up in my thoughts that I unsuccessfully noticed my friend, Jerry walking straight toward me through the corridor. He was obviously in a world of his own too, per usual, and with a loud thud we ran right into each other. "Oh, shit sorry Erica." He moaned and bent to pick up the folder's he'd dropped during our collision, his light blonde hair bouncing along with his movements. "Nah that was my fault Jez." I said, calling him by his nickname, and helped him pick up the pieces of paper from the floor. "Late night?" He asked looking at me, a smirk playing at his lips. "You look tired."
"Maybe." I muttered. "When do I ever get an early night though?" I tried to avoid the subject of night time and sleeping because I knew that would lead to the subject of 'two nights ago at the club' and 'sleeping around'. Jerry was part of the film crew at Kerrang and he had been with me at KOKO. I was sure that he'd seen me leave with Brian and I wasn't up for discussing my relations with anyone, but I knew he wouldn't be able to help himself. I could tell that Jerry wanted me to bring the ordeal up, to tell him all the naughty details about how Marilyn Manson had fucked me. I shouldn't have expected anything different, I had known him since my college years after all. Then again Jerry shouldn't have expected any different from me. Of course I was never a one to spill my stories especially when it involved personal matters, reasoning's and all the crap that went with screwing someone. I liked to keep my life to myself and everyone knew it. Still priers will be priers and Jerry was none other than a prier. I handed him his folders and made my way past him but he grabbed my wrist firmly and pulled me back. "Erica, aren't you gonna' tell me what happened after KOKO?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." I said simply, avoiding eye contact with my friend. "Yes you do." Jerry insisted. "We all saw you leave with Marilyn, Erica what the fuck happened?" At first Jerry seemed just fairly interested, even entertained at what he knew but as he went on his voice began to drift into a tone of anxiousness. "Are you okay?"
"Of course I am!" I exclaimed loudly which gained me a couple of strange glances from passers by. I then frowned upon taking in what he had said. "What do you mean you all saw?"
"Well, the whole crew at KOKO saw you take him away in your car, but by yesterday afternoon the whole of the office were bitching about you 'sleeping with Marilyn Manson'." I clenched my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut in anger. It often surprised me how the real world could be so similar to high school; rumors and gossip spread fast and easy like butter. I could hardly blame anyone though, it was Marilyn Manson they were talking about and the rumors were undeniably correct. "Is it true Erica?" I didn't reply. "You idiot, please tell me you didn't."
"Yes I did." I finally blurted. "What does it matter to you Jez? I'm alive aren't I?" Jerry stared at me in astonishment. "Erica he's dangerous!" He whispered and pushed me to the side of the corridor. "Did he hurt you? Did he try and... oh god what did he do to you?"
"No!" I creased my face at him and shook my head violently. "No, no he didn't do anything wrong. He was, he was nice." I said, lowering my voice at the last part of my sentence. Jerry stopped and peered down at me through his blue irises, his expression changing into about twenty separate shades of confusion. "He was... nice?"
"Yes, Jerry, he was nice. Nice and sweet, caring, gentle and blah blah blah. I may as well tell you now because I know you're going to drag it out of me one way or another." I spat. "He was everything you wouldn't expect him to be actually, I told him things I wouldn't dare tell anyone else, even you, Jez." Jerry raised his brow, mouth slightly agape as he rolled what I had told him through his head. "You opened up to him? You, of all people? You seriously trust him?
"Yes, I do. I'm not stupid Jerry I knew what I was doing." I murmured.
"Erica, he's Marilyn Manson, haven't you heard what people say about him?"
"Of course I have, but Jez you don't understand. He wasn't Marilyn Manson."
"What? Who the hell was he then?"
"He was..." I stopped before I was able to make more of a showcase out of myself than I already had done. I didn't want to tell Jerry that I had captured the man behind the Manson mask. "No one, nothing. It doesn't matter."
"Hold on. You don't like him, do you?" Jerry narrowed his eyes and examined me as I still refused to look at him. "No. No I don't. Stop being an asshole."
I didn't know if I liked Brian. Well, I had no doubt that I liked him but in what way I couldn't put my finger on. If I did indeed have feelings for the man I would sure as anything have a hard time admitting it to myself let alone to Jerry or anyone else. The blonde haired man sighed in defeat and stepped aside of me. "Fine, whatever, but remember he's famous Erica. He isn't a normal guy, he's the shittiest, sluttiest, filthiest rock-star of them all and he's gonna' hurt you." Jerry offered me a look of sympathy but I refused it and turned my back on him, not in time to miss his words of wisdom warning me to keep my hopes down. I ignored him of course, after all he didn't know anything. No one knew, no one understood what I experienced with Brian. They never would.
I was right when I said I'd be back to the hotel soon, there was nothing left for me to do at work apart from finalize the Manson interview. I sat at my desk and typed up the script I had drafted two days previous into the computer, making sure I got everything right. I wasn't going to portray Brian in any other way than he was to me in that meeting; genuine.
Once I had finished I sent the typed interview to the editors and publishers of the magazine so they could prepare it for printing. After that there really wasn't anything else left for me. Marilyn Manson had been my last interview, until I was set free from my father of course but no one knew when that was going to be. Collecting my belongings and saying goodbye to my colleagues would wait until tomorrow which was my official final day at the studios. I yawned and stretched my arms and legs, relaxing back into my chair. Jerry had been right about one thing, I was tired. By the time I'd finished working it was only half ten in the morning, I had the rest of the day do exactly as I pleased. I thought about what I'd usually do after finishing work early. I might have gone to the pub with Jerry if I hadn't felt so pissed at him. I decided that I didn't want another lecture about my poor decisions, as much as he wanted it to be it wasn't any of his business, so Jerry was out of the question. I might have gone drinking by myself, gone back to my flat and smoked up then maybe fall into a restless sleep in front of the quiet hum of daytime television, but my attention kept slipping back to Brian. In fairness I had told him I'd come back soon and he actually wanted me to stay. Plus I had taken most of my possessions, including my marijuana, to the hotel so there wasn't much point in going back to my cold flat but more point in going back to Brain. I stood and swung my satchel over my shoulder before hurrying out of the office, leaving Jerry and all the dirty stares of acknowledgment behind me.
*
"We're going to a party tonight and you're coming with us." Brian told me as soon as I arrived to the hotel room. "Here have this." He shoved a large, flat box into my hands before I had time to even put my bag down. "What is it?" I asked curiously.
"Open it and you'll find out, silly." Twiggy grunted from the floor where he was sprawled out. "Marilyn dragged us all out when you were at work to help him find the goddamn thing, it was horrible! I swear we almost died."
"Yea from alcohol poisoning." Brian added. "Not that I disprove, but you guys were so fucking hungover there was no point in bringing you out, you were pretty much useless!" I frowned in suspicion, then sat on the bed that me and Brian had shared and opened the box. Behind the layers of white tissue paper lay a dress. I gasped and held it up from the packaging, admiring the beautiful object in my hands. "You bought this for me?" I asked, barely able to believe my eyes. The dress was short and tightly fitted. It had long, sleek sleeves, a V shaped back and was covered from top to bottom in moss green sequins. "Yep, well, Twiggy helped chose it." Said Brian. "He liked it because it was glittery." I gawped and carefully ran my fingers over the sequins. "I don't think anyone has ever done anything like this for me before." I turned to Brian who was now rummaging through a suitcase, seemingly un-bothered by the dress. "How much did this cost?"
"Not a lot." He carelessly shook his head, clearly lying through his teeth. Not that it mattered because the man had to be loaded with money to be able to afford a dress of this kind. "Well, thank you." I said, stunned. Brian shot me a grin as I cautiously placed the dress back in its box. "You like it then?"
"It's perfect." Brain nodded and returned to his rummaging. "I'm glad, I thought it'd match your eyes." I blinked my emeralds and shook my head in attempt to banish the warm sensation striking through my insides yet again. "Okay, well, are you sure the guys will be up for the party?" I asked, quickly changing the subject. "They already look either dead or dying." Brain glanced over his shoulder to his band who had now passed out, most likely in their own sick. He cracked out a laugh and rolled his orbs. "Of course they will, they're always up for something that involves liquor and drugs, no matter how hungover they are." I shrugged my shoulders and smiled, placing the package on the bed next to where I was sat.
I couldn't wait to tell Jerry about the dress, I couldn't wait to see the look of shock across his face once I'd told him how gorgeous it was, how amazing Brian had been to consider me so. How he would be able to argue against Brian after this was beyond my mind space. Jerry was a bastard if he thought any differently and so would anyone else be.
Brian was so sweet, sweet to me at least. My sweet, sweet little agony.
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All That You Have For Me In Sin
We lay in quiet for what seemed like hours, it probably was. We didn't move, barely even slept, we just listened in darkness to sounds of busy traffic drowned by the continuous down pour outside, I was surprised that London hadn't been flooded yet. I could here Brians heartbeat patter calmly against his chest in beat with the rattle of rain drops upon the window glass, his right arm was outstretched across the bed which we and re-made with the sheets we'd found on the floor. My head was propped atop of his chest, rising and falling to the movement of his steady breath. I traced his illustrated arms and admired the obscurity of the artwork which lay there whilst Brain danced his elegant fingers over my exposed forearms and examined the many faint, white lines of self mutilation which had been buried into my skin. Even though I was facing away from him I could feel his expression burn into me. He wasn't disgusted, he wasn't even surprised that the scars were there because of course, I'd told him about what I'd done to myself, but I also sensed that he was except-ant of them, that he was except-ant of me like no one else ever had been. No one apart from my mother.
I began to drift in and out of a light sleep, forever aware of Brain's fingertips across the surface of my skin telling me that he was still awake. He did not sleep at all that night, his touch continued to flutter over my body and I felt his features turn vague as he stared into one of the corners of the hotel room, his mind suddenly heavy with thought. If there was one thing I'd learnt about Brian within the small amount of time I had known him then was that no matter how much I thought I understood him, there was always an air of mystery about. When I couldn't read his expression I found it especially difficult to tell what he was thinking and I couldn't quite work out whether this excited or scared me. In all honesty I think it did both.
We remained alone, in each other's silent company until the early hours of the morning. I heard voices outside the room, the scratch of a key trying to unlock the door by an intoxicated hand and a mess of curses after they missed. On the sixth attempt the door swung open and smashed into the already ruined wall leaving an ugly dent. Four men stumbled into sight, the yellow lighting from the hallway filled the somber room and highlighted their drunken faces as they fell over one and other laughing incorrigibly. "Fuck it." Brian grumbled and rolled onto his stomach in order to shield himself from the burning light and his band mates. He quickly threw the quilt over the nakedness of my body so not to ruin my decency but his actions could never hide us from the taunting jeers coming from the men. "Look, Mar-i-lyn has a lady friend." Twiggy giggled and tripped closer toward us, the smell of whiskey grew stronger as he did so. The other's choked and snorted in attempt to stifle their childish snickers at the 'hilarious' situation which involved me in bed with Marilyn Manson. "Where have you been Mr.Mar-i-lyn?" Twiggy slurred, emphasizing each syllable of Brian's stage name with his rhyme. "I've been about. What does it matter to you, Twiggs?" He growled, clearly uncomfortable with how he was being antagonized. Twiggy however failed to notice the irritability in his friends tone and decided to plonk himself next to me on the bed. He took a swig from his whiskey bottle and stared at me with wide orbs, I stared back, not quite sure how I should feel as he eyed me. "You're the girl from Kerrang!" He suddenly shrieked. "Hey guys, Mar-i-lyn banged an English chick!" They all cheered as if I was some sort of accomplishment, an an award that Brain had achieved and although I should have been offended by their behavior I couldn't help but smile at how goofy they were, besides I was sure they had no idea what was actually going on anyway. "Fuck you guys." Brian hissed. "Go and pass out or something, haven't you got some bitch to screw?" They all burst into hysterics again as if Brian had told them some ridiculously funny joke. Pogo, Zim Zum and Ginger piled themselves onto the other double bed, which we hadn't bothered to make, in a jumble of drunken limbs and fits of laughter. Twiggy closed his eyes and smiled as he sunk further into the pillow next to me, cradling his bottle to his chest. "We left some hookers at the bar Mar-i-lyn, they were boring." Twiggy explained, still oblivious to Brian's anger. "We had groupies the other night when you weren't here though, but I guess you had better things to urm, do." He exploded into more giggles and threw his skinny arms into the air dramatically which caused his whiskey to spill all over the green dress hanging loosely to his frame. Brian's temper, which was now proving to be wrathful, was sure to go either of two ways. It could erupt into a mayhem of exacerbated fury, or it could give up and relent into his mind's tiredness. Thankfully it did the latter as Brain seemed to be used to the actions of his band members. He soon grew bored and dropped his head into his folded arms, muttering to me about how I should put my clothes back on. I did as he said, not because he told me to but because I had work and it was already half six in the morning. I dressed myself quickly under the protection of the quilt and then crawled over Brain to escape my sandwiching between him and the whiskey drenched Twiggy. "Hey where're you going?" He asked, still laying flat on his stomach. "I have work in half an hour." I replied. Brian pouted and widened his eyes in order to make himself look alike to some poor little animal that I should have felt sorrow for. "Do you have to go?"
"Yes, it's my last day tomorrow, but don't worry." I mocked and pecked his falsely saddened lips. "I'll be back soon." With that I grabbed my satchel and exited the room leaving Brian alone with his crew, who were by then blacked out and preparing themselves for a tremendous hangover.
As I drove from the hotel to work, the rain still thundering through London, a strange sensation crawled around my insides. I couldn't work out what it was, neither could I fathom the reason for the grin plastered to my face for the entire journey. I still couldn't get my head around the fact that I had been genuinely laughing let alone that the sensation could have possibly been happiness. It was odd, I thought to myself as I pulled up outside the Kerrang studios. Odd, that as I tied my disgruntled hair into a topknot, whacked some lip-gloss on and popped a peppermint into my mouth that I still couldn't wipe that god forsaken smile away, it refused to budge. Could it really have been that Brian was the cause for all this? Could he, the weird looking man with a pointy nose and hair longer than my own who I had only met days before, truly be the descender for my long lost happiness? The idea buzzed around my head like insanity as I walked into my place of work. I had been so caught up in my thoughts that I unsuccessfully noticed my friend, Jerry walking straight toward me through the corridor. He was obviously in a world of his own too, per usual, and with a loud thud we ran right into each other. "Oh, shit sorry Erica." He moaned and bent to pick up the folder's he'd dropped during our collision, his light blonde hair bouncing along with his movements. "Nah that was my fault Jez." I said, calling him by his nickname, and helped him pick up the pieces of paper from the floor. "Late night?" He asked looking at me, a smirk playing at his lips. "You look tired."
"Maybe." I muttered. "When do I ever get an early night though?" I tried to avoid the subject of night time and sleeping because I knew that would lead to the subject of 'two nights ago at the club' and 'sleeping around'. Jerry was part of the film crew at Kerrang and he had been with me at KOKO. I was sure that he'd seen me leave with Brian and I wasn't up for discussing my relations with anyone, but I knew he wouldn't be able to help himself. I could tell that Jerry wanted me to bring the ordeal up, to tell him all the naughty details about how Marilyn Manson had fucked me. I shouldn't have expected anything different, I had known him since my college years after all. Then again Jerry shouldn't have expected any different from me. Of course I was never a one to spill my stories especially when it involved personal matters, reasoning's and all the crap that went with screwing someone. I liked to keep my life to myself and everyone knew it. Still priers will be priers and Jerry was none other than a prier. I handed him his folders and made my way past him but he grabbed my wrist firmly and pulled me back. "Erica, aren't you gonna' tell me what happened after KOKO?"
"I don't know what you're talking about." I said simply, avoiding eye contact with my friend. "Yes you do." Jerry insisted. "We all saw you leave with Marilyn, Erica what the fuck happened?" At first Jerry seemed just fairly interested, even entertained at what he knew but as he went on his voice began to drift into a tone of anxiousness. "Are you okay?"
"Of course I am!" I exclaimed loudly which gained me a couple of strange glances from passers by. I then frowned upon taking in what he had said. "What do you mean you all saw?"
"Well, the whole crew at KOKO saw you take him away in your car, but by yesterday afternoon the whole of the office were bitching about you 'sleeping with Marilyn Manson'." I clenched my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut in anger. It often surprised me how the real world could be so similar to high school; rumors and gossip spread fast and easy like butter. I could hardly blame anyone though, it was Marilyn Manson they were talking about and the rumors were undeniably correct. "Is it true Erica?" I didn't reply. "You idiot, please tell me you didn't."
"Yes I did." I finally blurted. "What does it matter to you Jez? I'm alive aren't I?" Jerry stared at me in astonishment. "Erica he's dangerous!" He whispered and pushed me to the side of the corridor. "Did he hurt you? Did he try and... oh god what did he do to you?"
"No!" I creased my face at him and shook my head violently. "No, no he didn't do anything wrong. He was, he was nice." I said, lowering my voice at the last part of my sentence. Jerry stopped and peered down at me through his blue irises, his expression changing into about twenty separate shades of confusion. "He was... nice?"
"Yes, Jerry, he was nice. Nice and sweet, caring, gentle and blah blah blah. I may as well tell you now because I know you're going to drag it out of me one way or another." I spat. "He was everything you wouldn't expect him to be actually, I told him things I wouldn't dare tell anyone else, even you, Jez." Jerry raised his brow, mouth slightly agape as he rolled what I had told him through his head. "You opened up to him? You, of all people? You seriously trust him?
"Yes, I do. I'm not stupid Jerry I knew what I was doing." I murmured.
"Erica, he's Marilyn Manson, haven't you heard what people say about him?"
"Of course I have, but Jez you don't understand. He wasn't Marilyn Manson."
"What? Who the hell was he then?"
"He was..." I stopped before I was able to make more of a showcase out of myself than I already had done. I didn't want to tell Jerry that I had captured the man behind the Manson mask. "No one, nothing. It doesn't matter."
"Hold on. You don't like him, do you?" Jerry narrowed his eyes and examined me as I still refused to look at him. "No. No I don't. Stop being an asshole."
I didn't know if I liked Brian. Well, I had no doubt that I liked him but in what way I couldn't put my finger on. If I did indeed have feelings for the man I would sure as anything have a hard time admitting it to myself let alone to Jerry or anyone else. The blonde haired man sighed in defeat and stepped aside of me. "Fine, whatever, but remember he's famous Erica. He isn't a normal guy, he's the shittiest, sluttiest, filthiest rock-star of them all and he's gonna' hurt you." Jerry offered me a look of sympathy but I refused it and turned my back on him, not in time to miss his words of wisdom warning me to keep my hopes down. I ignored him of course, after all he didn't know anything. No one knew, no one understood what I experienced with Brian. They never would.
I was right when I said I'd be back to the hotel soon, there was nothing left for me to do at work apart from finalize the Manson interview. I sat at my desk and typed up the script I had drafted two days previous into the computer, making sure I got everything right. I wasn't going to portray Brian in any other way than he was to me in that meeting; genuine.
Once I had finished I sent the typed interview to the editors and publishers of the magazine so they could prepare it for printing. After that there really wasn't anything else left for me. Marilyn Manson had been my last interview, until I was set free from my father of course but no one knew when that was going to be. Collecting my belongings and saying goodbye to my colleagues would wait until tomorrow which was my official final day at the studios. I yawned and stretched my arms and legs, relaxing back into my chair. Jerry had been right about one thing, I was tired. By the time I'd finished working it was only half ten in the morning, I had the rest of the day do exactly as I pleased. I thought about what I'd usually do after finishing work early. I might have gone to the pub with Jerry if I hadn't felt so pissed at him. I decided that I didn't want another lecture about my poor decisions, as much as he wanted it to be it wasn't any of his business, so Jerry was out of the question. I might have gone drinking by myself, gone back to my flat and smoked up then maybe fall into a restless sleep in front of the quiet hum of daytime television, but my attention kept slipping back to Brian. In fairness I had told him I'd come back soon and he actually wanted me to stay. Plus I had taken most of my possessions, including my marijuana, to the hotel so there wasn't much point in going back to my cold flat but more point in going back to Brain. I stood and swung my satchel over my shoulder before hurrying out of the office, leaving Jerry and all the dirty stares of acknowledgment behind me.
*
"We're going to a party tonight and you're coming with us." Brian told me as soon as I arrived to the hotel room. "Here have this." He shoved a large, flat box into my hands before I had time to even put my bag down. "What is it?" I asked curiously.
"Open it and you'll find out, silly." Twiggy grunted from the floor where he was sprawled out. "Marilyn dragged us all out when you were at work to help him find the goddamn thing, it was horrible! I swear we almost died."
"Yea from alcohol poisoning." Brian added. "Not that I disprove, but you guys were so fucking hungover there was no point in bringing you out, you were pretty much useless!" I frowned in suspicion, then sat on the bed that me and Brian had shared and opened the box. Behind the layers of white tissue paper lay a dress. I gasped and held it up from the packaging, admiring the beautiful object in my hands. "You bought this for me?" I asked, barely able to believe my eyes. The dress was short and tightly fitted. It had long, sleek sleeves, a V shaped back and was covered from top to bottom in moss green sequins. "Yep, well, Twiggy helped chose it." Said Brian. "He liked it because it was glittery." I gawped and carefully ran my fingers over the sequins. "I don't think anyone has ever done anything like this for me before." I turned to Brian who was now rummaging through a suitcase, seemingly un-bothered by the dress. "How much did this cost?"
"Not a lot." He carelessly shook his head, clearly lying through his teeth. Not that it mattered because the man had to be loaded with money to be able to afford a dress of this kind. "Well, thank you." I said, stunned. Brian shot me a grin as I cautiously placed the dress back in its box. "You like it then?"
"It's perfect." Brain nodded and returned to his rummaging. "I'm glad, I thought it'd match your eyes." I blinked my emeralds and shook my head in attempt to banish the warm sensation striking through my insides yet again. "Okay, well, are you sure the guys will be up for the party?" I asked, quickly changing the subject. "They already look either dead or dying." Brain glanced over his shoulder to his band who had now passed out, most likely in their own sick. He cracked out a laugh and rolled his orbs. "Of course they will, they're always up for something that involves liquor and drugs, no matter how hungover they are." I shrugged my shoulders and smiled, placing the package on the bed next to where I was sat.
I couldn't wait to tell Jerry about the dress, I couldn't wait to see the look of shock across his face once I'd told him how gorgeous it was, how amazing Brian had been to consider me so. How he would be able to argue against Brian after this was beyond my mind space. Jerry was a bastard if he thought any differently and so would anyone else be.
Brian was so sweet, sweet to me at least. My sweet, sweet little agony.
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