I stormed out of the bus, slamming the door behind me. Brad's car was parked in the parking lot of the venue next to the bus. I sighed and picked up a styrofoam cup and threw it and its contents at the windshield of his car. A brown liquid spread across the front of the car and slid down the hood until it dripped to the concrete. I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around. Toby, along with Daisy were standing behind me.
"Where's Brad?" I asked Toby. He shrugged.
"Let me rephrase that, where's your drugbuddy?" He arched his eyebrows. The door to the bus swung open and Pogo's lips were curved into a devilish grin. I saw a glimpse of Brad, then the door swung shut in his face and hit his nose as Pogo jumped off the steps.
"Hello, motherfuckers!" He screamed. I nodded.
"Hello, Steve," Toby waved. Pogo nodded.
"When did Brad get here?" Pogo asked. I shrugged and went to the bus to find a golf club, or one of Bradley's old bass'. I swung the door open and stomped onto the bus. Brad was laying on the couch with his legs reached out over the table.
"Drug-addict," I whispered. As I walked by he scrunched into a ball. "Where's your bass?" I asked. He shrugged and looked at me. "Don't you know how to fucking talk?" I kicked the table. It shot up and hit his arms. I giggled and opened the storage closet.
"They're in the closet," he mumbled. I rummaged through old posters, clothing, and random crap until I found an old blue bass of Brad's. I walked out, slamming the door behind me. I raised it over my head and hit all the windows. Chunks of bass, strings, and glass lay at my feet.
"Oh my God!" Daisy ran up next to me and put his hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it away, and used what was left of the bass to bash dents into the car. Daisy backed away. Pogo ran next to me and pulled my arms until I dropped the small bit of bass remaining in my hand. I threw it on the ground, and stomped into the bus after shoving Freddy out of the way.
"Hey, Brad?" I asked. In reply he sank down in the corner and nodded. "You might want to come check out your car," he knitted his eyebrows together as the corners of my lips arched into a devilish grin. He sluggishly and cautiously got up and swung the door open. His jaw dropped to the floor and his eyes widened, glassy with tears. I folded my arms across my chest and as he ran over and lay across the dented hood of the car. Bradley jumped back on his feet when I walked over. Daisy, Sara, and Toby were backing away. I don't know where Pogo is or Jeordie is.
"You!" Brad arched his eyebrows and pointed to me, black lines streaked down his face from mascara. "You did this!" He moved his pointed finger to the car.
"What makes you think I did it?" I asked.
"Everything is your fault! My car, my life, why I'm in rehab! Not even to mention what you did to my favorite bass!" He picked up shards of the blue bass and two of the four strings.
"How am I the reason your in rehab?" I shouted.
"Oh, don't play dumb with me! You know you're the reason I got addicted!" He shouted back, his face red from crying and/or shouting.
"What makes you think that? Huh, Bradley Stewart? What makes you think that?" I shook his shoulders, causing him to drop the guitar pieces and making them shatter in my foot. But I didn't really care right now.
"We were drunk. You said "Hey wouldn't this be fun?" and you know you're the reason.. I got.. Addicted," he pulled his hands away and sobbed into his palms. I kind of felt bad now. Maybe it was my fault he got addicted. I put a hand on his back and he shrugged it off.
"Don't fucking touch me!" His eyes were red and puffy. His hair was waving in front of his face.
"How did you even get out of rehab? Like, how did you get here?"
"Toby called and requested for me to come out for a bit, sort of like a vacation. He promised them I wouldn't mess around with anything, then when I got to the bus we went to the storage closet, and.." He sniffled. "And we smoked. And I regret it. And..." He sniffed again and wiped his eyes, smearing what remained of his make-up. "And we left to this girl's house and.." He cried the whole time he was speaking and I could barely understand him.
"It's okay, Brad," Daisy patted Brad's back.
"No it's not.. And it never will be thanks to that jack-ass!" He pointed to me.
"I've always wanted to be a donkey," I said, smirking. I know this wasn't the time for jokes, but I was trying to lighten the mood. Everybody glared at me. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry Brad," I said, sighing. I never apologize.
"No you're not!" All four of them said at the same time.
"Alright, looks like you guys can read minds now, too? Goddamn," I grinned.
"Go away, asshole," Daisy said. Now Daisy hates me too. I stepped my feet through the concrete venue parking-lot. I opened the door, and slammed it behind me. I grabbed my phone and called Pogo, assuming Jeordie was with him. It rung about eleven times before he picked up. There was music and voices in the background.
"Where are you?"
"I'm uh.. I'm.." I could hear him faintly saying "Where are we?" In the background. "I'm at a club,"
"Is Twiggy with you?"
"Uh..." I could hear him saying "Is Twiggy here?" I can't believe he doesn't know basic shit like this. "Yeah,"
"Okay which club?" Once again, I could hear him saying "Which club are we at?" I face palmed. I don't even have to ask if he's drunk or if he's high, because I already know he's both. "Skittsers,"
"Alright, I'm coming, okay?" He hummed a "yes" and I hung up. I gathered my wallet, my jacket, and laced my boots back up. On the way out, I grabbed a pair of studded fingerless gloves and a studded belt, just to make me look even more like a satanist. When I stepped out the guys were asking where I was going. I just waved a hand at them and/or flipped them off. I walked to the road and waved my hand out screaming "Taxi" at the top of my lungs. Finally one stopped and I opened my door.
"Marilyn Manson?" He asked. I nodded. "Well, where will we be going today, Mr. Manson?" He beamed.
"Skittsers" I said. He nodded and stepped on the gas.
"You know, I'm a huge fan of yours," he said, smirking.
"Great. I appreciate it," I said. I already wish I would've just got Toby to drive me. I threw a 50 dollar bill through the divider. He needs it more than I do.
"What's this for?" He asked.
"Umm.. Because you're driving me,"
"Nah, rock stars get their rides free," he said.
"Do you want the fucking money or not, because I will gladly give you 50 more if you just shut the fuck up and stop talking to me, got it?" I raged. He nodded and slipped the two 50's in his pocket. Well that's 100 dollars down the drain.
When we finally arrived, I slammed the door open and slammed it behind me before he could say anything. Skittsers was owned by an old, bald, black man who always wore khakis and button-ups no matter where he was going, named Marien Skix. I always told him his last name was cool, so now he loves me. Every once and a while he'll get me a free drink, or the bartender will recognize me and pay for it himself.
Inside of the club, I ran around the whole club at least 20 times and didn't see Pogo or Twiggy any time. The only place left to check was the bathrooms. I opened the door to the first one. I could see Pogo's boots from under the stall. Also, my 'friend' Jakob was leaning against the wall. Jakob was an obnoxious 17-year-old with a fake id. He was wearing a Playboy shirt with black slacks and dress shoes. He had long uncombed blonde hair, which reminded me of Kurt Cobain.
"Why are you dressed so classy, obviously despite the Playboy shirt?"
"Oh, I went to church today. I mainly only went to annoy the pastor, so I wore a Playboy shirt there,"
"And you didn't bother to change your shoes and pants before coming to Skittsers?"
"I told my parents church was ending late tonight, so I would be home late and they would be suspicious if I came back home to change," I nodded as Pogo's stall door swung open. I covered my face with my hands.
'Pogo, you didn't pull your pants up!"
"Oh, haha!" I heard a zipper and opened my eyes.
"Where's Twiggy, Steve?"
"I don't know, he probably got trampled by fans," he yawned. "But I found Jakob. I also found Delilah Darsh. Remember her?"
"Oh, I remember her alright," Delilah Darsh used to be my boss when I worked at Publix. She was skinny, had red-framed glasses, emerald eyes, and wavy dirty blonde hair. She would always try to hold my hand or tell my I looked handsome or some crap like that. She always wore really short shorts and she always had her neon pink thong pulled above her pants, and always wore a sleeveless shirt with fancy designs on it. I remember one day she was wearing a skirt and she asked to talk to me. I kept my hand in my pocket the whole time, but let me tell you, she was determined. She yanked my hands out of my pockets and drove my whole fist up her. That's why I don't work at Publix anymore.
"She's somewhere with Twiggy. Twiggy had eleven glasses of vodka, and I told him I'm surprised he isn't passed out right now," Pogo swayed side to side.
"Pogo did you take your meds?" Jakob asked.
"Hmm.." He hummed. "Nope," he laughed an evil laugh.
"Let's go find Twiggy," I ran out of the door, and walked around until I found him sitting at the bar with Delilah by his side. She was wearing a silver tube-top, short shorts made of spandex, she didn't have glasses anymore, and her hair was pinned back in a purple and silver clip. As I was walking up to her, I read her tramp stamp. "Put in heaven" and it had an arrow pointed upwards "Or put in hell" with an arrow pointing to her ass. I sighed and walked behind Jakob, who was now swinging his legs on a bar stool next to Twiggy.
"Oh! Hey, Brian!" I forgot Delilah calls me Brian. I was Brian when I worked at Publix.
"Hey, Delilah," I said through my gritted teeth. She waved and flashed a smile.
"Haha, you remember that time?.." She trailed off. I nodded and asked the bartender for Jack Daniel's.
"Yeah, sorry 'bout that!" She said. I laughed and clenched my fist and bit my lip to keep from punching her pearly white teeth out. I was fixing my belt when Marien walked up. He waved and volunteered to sit down next to me. I waved towards the seat.
"How's it going, Marilyn?" He said.
"Pretty good, Mr. Skix,"
"Oh, please, call me Marien," he laughed and fixed his grey button-up.
"Will do," I grinned and took a sip of my drink, reaching my pocket to get out some money.
"Oh, no, it's on the house," he waved towards the bartender. The bartender gave a confused look, but then scurried away.
"Thanks, Marien," I said.
"Don't worry about it," he suggested. I nodded. "So, who's this pretty young lady next to ya, Manson?" He asked. I felt Delilah lean her head on my shoulder.
"We're dating," she said. Wait, WHAT?
"WE ARE NOT DATING! GET YOUR TRAMP ASS AWAY FROM ME!" I shouted. Everyone in the club turned to look at me, then turned back around and continued chatting.
"Come on, babe," she giggled.
"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, WHAT DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?" I raised my hand, and punched her twice in her nose. There were marks from my studded gloves. I was breathing heavily, when two bodyguards came over to escort me away. As I was being dragged I yelled "Bring Pogo and Twiggy!" To Marien. I only told Marien because he's the only one who isn't drunk. If Marien owns this place, why can't he just come tell them to get off me? Oh well. I was set outside near a group of girls. One of them had lingerie on, her black hair tied back with a matching bow. Another was wearing blue bikini bottoms, and a see-through black shirt, with her matching blue hair draped over her shoulders. The last one really stood out. She was tall and beautiful. She had pale skin, her red hair tied into an elegant ponytail with long black jeans on, lace down the sides, and a red tank top with a black skull on it. She had a lip-piercing and a septum piercing. All three of them squealed and ran over to me.
"Oh my God, I'm a huge fan!" The girl with the blue hair smiled.
"Thanks!" They all were pretty, but I really liked the red-haired girl. I put my hand on her back and rubbed it up and down, sort of to calm her.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"Lauren Hart," she smiled. Her smile was so pretty. I got lost in her beautiful blue eyes. I was snapped out of my daze when I heard my name being called.
"Brian!" It was Delilah, Pogo, Jakob, Twiggy, and surprisingly, Marien. I held my hand out in front of them.
"First of all, get that slut away from me," I pointed to Delilah. "Then we can talk," I still was rubbing my hand up and down Lauren's back. They shoved Delilah back inside.
"Who's that?" Jakob pointed to Lauren.
"That's Lauren Hart,"
"Well, you can flirt with girls later, we need to get home," Pogo grabbed my wrist. I snatched it away and got a pen out of my pocket that I always keep with me. "Do you have some paper?" I asked. The blue haired girl nodded and gave me a napkin. I said paper, not napkin, but this'll do. I sprawled my number across it and handed it to Lauren. "For you," I bowed and ran to Pogo. Delilah joined us, and all 6 of us, including Marien, got a cab. We had to take 2 separate ones. Delilah, Jacob, and Marien all going home in one cab. Me, Twiggy, and Pogo in the other.