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Lest we forget our friends	By : CherubChild Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Marilyn Manson Views: 2262 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know Marilyn Manson. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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With an enormous lack of patience, I took a (rather unclean) sheet and draped it over my shoulders while walking out of the room and onto soft white carpeting. An edge of the sheet ended up catching hold somewhere as I passed through the doorframe, and off it came!

So I privileged myself in roaming the hallway completely nude.

Ginger soon came ‘round, dressed in a blue towel-robe. This made his eyes stand out, among the red, white, and black colors that were blended along his face. He looked like a blushing Barbie doll from hell, “You could use the shower in my room, if you want. Or since you’re all the way out here already, the bathrooms’ to your left. When you come out, go to the end of the hallway, and up the winding flight of stairs for clothes.”

“I always knew you were the brains of the band.”

“I try. Hey- I’ll meet you up stairs in a little while. I’m going to get something to eat. Call me if you want someone to wash your back.” He winked, turning to leave.

I took a shower much longer than I had intended; indulging in the hot water, steam, and massaging spouts. And when I got upstairs to gather clothing in a room decked out in a glittering Renaissance theme, Ginger was already fully dressed, powdered and pressed. He was sitting at an antique architects’ desk, musing through professional photos of I don’t know what.

“Is there anything here off limits?” I said, with my body still moist and dripping, standing with a pink towel around my waist. The initials ‘MM’ embroidered into it. “There’s so much crap in here, I don’t think anyone would notice even if I took the ceiling.”

“Exactly.” Ginger replied, his backside towards me. I could see now he was skimming over pin-up portraits. Oil paints of scantly clothed and busty women. I didn’t complain.

I rummaged through racks upon racks of clothing, boxes, and drawers, feeling the sensation and excitement of running my fingers over various designs of fishnet and mini-skirts. And rather than stick to the casual and sheik look, I couldn’t help but throw a pair of stockings over my arm and search for something more. I luckily came across a straight-collared black nurse’s outfit. It appeared a little large, but once worn, it could be tightly laced up the back, not unlike a corset. There were metal pendants that were sewn in at the shoulders and in a line around the waist, all in the shape of syringe needles. The pendants, giving the garb an industrial look, were outlined with a thin strip of red. I fell in love. Elbow-length leather gloves seemed a perfect match for the outfit also. And lastly I didn’t hesitate to steel a pair of high platforms for my feet.

All fit me perfectly, and ironically, it was like wearing my own skin.

There was only one problem: Hair and make-up.

I hid behind a tall rack on the opposite end of the room from Ginger, thinking aloud, “Hmmmm…” and checked the boxes another time.

“Need anything?” Ginger called in a hurry.

“Not really. But, how about a mirror, make-up, you know… that sort of thing.”

“That carnival mural on the wall, with the frame around it. It’s somewhere behind you… Just push on it, it’s actually a sliding door. There’s more boxes in there with mirrors on the wall.”

“Thank you Mr. Jeeves. I should’ve known.”

It was a small cosmetic room with the MM logo present in all places. Make-up was found lying open everywhere on the off-white counters, and in the boxes; hair extensions, synthetics, and not to mention… prosthetics. A leg and a dildo. A hand and a lovely alien chest-cavity that resembled nipple-less breasts. Hmph. Looked familiar.

I began debating with myself as I turned to pick up the wigs and hair extensions. I was an expert at braiding the goddamned things in my head before a show, but didn’t have the time. So I opted for the wig.

Blond or brunet?

As fun as it was to be blond, I wasn’t conforming to the rules of the house.

So after placing on the dark wig, in 3.5 minutes the make-up dazzled my long oval face. White base foundation, charcoal at my eyes, deep red lipstick, thick false lashes. Nothing special… to me at least.

Out of habit, I made circles around my cheeks with clean fingers and pulled at the skin on my forehead. Another debate, loose the brows? Yet, really, for what reason? For now, fuck that.

I had more important things to do.

[ Still to be continued. Hoping that the new chapters are enjoyable ^^.
I kept contemplating, and re-thinking what direction I would take with this.
I've tried my best to use the current rumors (some prehaps fact) about the
band as a guide.

The reviews (good or bad) keep me writing (and correcting), Thanks :) ]
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Lest we forget our friends