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The Rose and Thorn	By : FlameWolf666 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Marilyn Manson Views: 3180 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I still don't know Marilyn Manson, Johnny Depp or any of the other famous people in this fic in real life. Needless to say, this is a work of fiction. I make no profit from this and this is just for fun.

Chapter List
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Author’s Note: ‘Unbearable, isn't it? The suffering of strangers, the agony of friends. There is a secret song at the center of the world, Joey, and its sound is like razors through flesh.’ - Pinhead
Interesting fact for you guys! This is the first sequel I’ve ever actually done. Yeah I’ve had some planned for future stories but I’ve never actually worked on one!

Chapter Three: Song of a Broken Heart
    A shrill alarm went off in the darkness, drawing a sleepy, irritated groan from Raven. Cracking one eye open with a look that signaled a quick and painful death, the groggy woman punched the snooze button with the side of her fist before sitting up. As she rubbed the sleep from her heavy eyes, she found herself wondering just why she had set her alarm in the first place. Then she remembered and she was out of bed in a flash, getting dressed as fast as she could. In her rush, the harried female never noticed what she put on.
    Johnny leaned back in a chair at the kitchen table, sipping his coffee as he watched Amanda pour hers. The sleepy looking woman was wearing a blue formal top and a pair of form fitting gray pants, an outfit that accentuated her curves nicely. “You look nice today,” the actor observed, smiling at her in a friendly manner when she turned to acknowledge him.
    “Thanks!” she chirped, a pretty blush coloring her pale cheeks as she moved to join him at the table. Once she was sitting, she took a sip of the black beverage and winced slightly at the initial taste.
    “I know, no matter how long I drink it I never get used to the bitterness,” the handsome male sighed, scratching the wiry hair on his chin.
    “How’d the concert go?” Amanda asked curiously, smiling at his comment about coffee. She could definitely agree with him on that point but right now her curiosity was eating her alive. Thankfully the actor understood and only chuckled warmly.
    “That curious? Jonathan got her to sing on stage,” he replied, taking a sip of his coffee as he watched the curly haired female with amused eyes. He wasn’t disappointed and he had to fight to not spit his beverage out in laughter.
    Amanda blinked for a few times as her brain slowly processed the information. Then it clicked and her green eyes went wide as her jaw nearly dropped to the table. Disbelief, amazement and wonder filled her vibrant eyes as she stared at the star across from her. “Wait, you got Raven to sing in front of a crowd of people?! How the Hell did you manage that?!” she finally replied, astonishment and respect in her voice as she looked up at the lean actor across from her.
    “Jonathan asked her to and, after some hesitation, she did. It was... it was beautiful,” Johnny breathed, his baritone voice thick with emotion as he set his mug down and stared into it.
    “You know what this means right?” Amanda asked, apprehension coming into her voice as reality began to rear its ugly head.
    “Yeah, it won’t be the paparazzi we’ll have to worry about anymore,” he sighed, running a hand through his dark hair as his eyes flicked to the kitchen entryway.
    “She does not need this added stress,” the concerned female sighed, slumping so her torso laid across the circular table.
    “I know but at least she’ll be away from the house today,” the goateed male replied, smiling when Amanda gave him a suspicious look.
    “Jonathan invited us to hang out with him today. He’s in town for a few more days for his tour and thought it might be fun. Raven was really excited, apparently she’s been a fan for years,” he explained, getting to his feet and moving to the cupboards to make himself some food. Today he was dressed in a deep red, long sleeve shirt and a pair of rather tight blue jeans. As the rather fit male walked, Amanda couldn’t stop her eyes from wandering to his toned butt.
    “What are you guys gonna do?” she asked, taking her eyes off his rather fine ass with a blush. Instead she focused her gaze on her nearly empty mug as she twirled it between her hands.
    “We’re gonna hang out with a few buddies, probably chat, play some games, watch some stuff. You’re also coming by the way,” Johnny replied, throwing a mischievous glance over his shoulder as he prepared himself some cereal and sausage.
    “Wh-what?! I have work today!” came her predicted, flabbergasted response from behind him.
    “Oh don’t worry about that. When I called your boss, he was more than okay with you taking the day off for an autograph or five,” the actor replied smoothly, pouring some milk in his bowl and resuming his seat at the table. Amanda only stared at him, her jaw slightly ajar.
    “You’re still getting paid. Consider it a mini vacation,” he continued, answering an unspoken question.
    “But why?!” the curly haired female gasped out in utter astonishment. Yet, under all of that, a part of her was excited to get to meet some of Johnny’s friends. Also, she would get a chance to spend some much needed time with Raven and gauge her roomie’s condition.
    “You and Raven could use some time to just relax and have fun with a group of friends,” he replied simply just as Raven came sliding into the room.
    Eeping shrilly as she skidded on the linoleum, the black haired female found her legs slipping out from under her and fell to the floor with a dull thud. “Raven? Are you... um, did you see what you’re wearing?” came Johnny’s smooth voice, starting out concerned and ending with anxious confusion.
    “I’m fine, I’m fine! Nothin’ hurt but my pride! And what do ya mean?” assured the embarrassed woman as she sat up and looked down at herself. At the sight of the shirt she wore, all color drained from her face and her heart twisted painfully in her chest. There, on her torso, was a picture of Manson’s face. Ironically, this one used to be one of her favorites.
    “No, it’s fine,” she whispered, getting to her feet and waving off both Amanda and Johnny. Despite never intending to see Manson again, Raven had been unable to get rid of any of the stuff she had pertaining to him. She had even kept the posters up, despite how much pain they caused her to see.
    “Are you sure?” Johnny asked gently, placing a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.
    “Yeah, I’m not going to get rid of this stuff so I’ll have to get over the pain at some point,” the resigned woman replied, opening the fridge and pulling out a ‘Red Pop’. Twisting off the white cap with a practised move, the pale female took a long swig of the soda before releasing a long, ringing belch.
    “Charming Meg, er Raven,” Amanda sighed in exasperated amusement as she moved to the coffee pot to refill her mug.
    “Thank you,” Raven replied with exaggerated flare, bowing to her audience of two with her arms spread. Despite the cheer in her voice, sadness still tinged her tone but her two friends decided to just let it go.
    Once all three had eaten and Raven had put Lady out on her zipline, Johnny had ushered them into his sleek rental car and began to drive. Raven stared out the window quietly while Amanda chatted cheerfully with Johnny from the back. The two of them talked about a show called Smallville while the black haired found her mind drifting to Manson. Was he okay? Was he drinking heavily? Was his band keeping an eye on him? Did he still have Kathy? Heaving a sigh, Raven was unaware of two lone tears that rolled down her porcelain cheek.
    She came back to herself with a jolt when the car came to a stop in front of a very familiar hotel. Unable to stop the laughter from bubbling past her lips, Raven was soon laughing hysterically while holding her stomach. “Wow Johnny! You take me to such exotic locations!” she gasped out between peals of merriment, tears of amusement flowing down her cheeks freely. Johnny only quirked a dark brow in response, before grinning widely.
    “Only the best for you my dear,” he teased with humor thick in his voice, one of his hands grasping her right hand and bringing the appendage to his lips. Still giggling, the smiling woman tugged her hand free so she could exit the car. Amanda was close behind, a smile of amusement on her face as she joined her childhood friend.
    Soon the trio was in the elevator, chatting away even when the door opened on their floor. All talking stopped when they saw who was waiting outside the door that obviously led to their room. One of them was Jonathan Davis, who was waving at them wildly before charging down the hall to meet them. The second person, however, was a complete stranger to Raven. Amanda, on the other hand, had gone completely still. A bright blush colored her pale skin and her eyes were wide with flustered disbelief. Blinking at her friend’s reaction, the black haired female took a second look at the strange man.
    He was tall and had a squarish face that was handsome in some ways. His blue eyes sparkling with an inner merriment and his short, thick, black hair was combed to the left. He was dressed in a green t-shirt and blue jeans and his posture was relaxed and friendly. “Hey Johnny! You gonna introduce me to your lovely companions?” he called as he began to move toward them at a much more relaxed pace.
    The movement caused an interesting reaction in Amanda, the brown haired woman’s eyes going wider as she turned an even deeper shade of red. Intrigued by her friend’s unusual reaction, Raven whispered, “Do you know that guy?” This made the other woman look at her with disbelief and astonishment.
    “Are you kidding?! That’s Tom Welling!” she hissed, gesturing while trying to remain unheard by the approaching male. Jonathan, who had released Johnny, turned to watch the events with an amused grin.
    “Who?” Raven asked, the name not ringing any bells whatsoever. Her best friend only looked at her in absolute, gobsmacked disbelief, her jaw hanging slightly open.
    “He played Clark Kent on Smallville!” she clarified, slightly louder and making herself jolt with embarrassment.
    “Smallwhat?” the black haired female asked, her confusion only deepening. She could gather from the character name that the show was about Superman but she had never heard of it. To be honest, she simply wasn’t as interested in the hero as her friend was. She much preferred Batman, finding the ‘Dark Knight’ a lot more relatable than the goody two shoes son of Krypton.
    Amanda looked about to answer her when her mouth snapped shut and her blush deepened to an alarming shade. Just as she was about to ask what was wrong with the curly haired woman, she heard a male voice from behind her. “It was a show about Clark Kent’s childhood in his hometown,” said the smooth voice, drawing a surprised eep from Raven as she whirled around and backed up several steps.
    Smirking down at the two women, Tom chuckled and held out his hand. “I’m sure an introduction isn’t needed on my part but, in the spirit of politeness, my name is Tom Welling,” he continued, his blue eyes sparkling with laughter. The two Johns behind him only smirked in amusement, the actor particularly focused on Amanda’s reaction. It almost looked like the woman had a huge crush on his fellow thespian.
    Raven chuckled at her close friend’s expression, the pale female resembling a gasping fish. Then she turned and offered her own hand to the tall, lightly muscled male with a smile. “My name is Raven and the human puddle beside me is my best friend Amanda,” the black clad woman replied, giggling when said female elbowed her sharply in the ribs.
    “Hey watch the elbow Mandy,” she squawked loudly, jolting back in an exaggerated manner with a grin on her face. Her curly haired companion only glowered heavily, blushing deeply in embarrassment before Tom began waving his hand in her face for attention. Making a strangled squeaking noise, the curly haired female looked up at him like a mouse looking up at a lurking cat.
    “Why so nervous? I don’t bite,” the rather young looking actor purred, nearly reducing Amanda to a quivering pile of jello on the carpet.
    “Alright Tom, heel boy! Let the poor thing breathe,” Davis barked out, laughter in his voice as he strode over to clap the dark haired man on his back. The young male only chuckled lightly, backing off a few steps to give Amanda some much needed room.
    Making the most adorable sounds that Raven had ever heard, the curly haired female straightened her clothes before practically rushing to her side. Looking down at the brown haired woman that was nearly hiding behind her, the black clad woman was barely able to hold back her outright laughter. She had never seen her normally unflappable friend this flustered, which meant that the curly haired female had to have it bad for the man. The thought made her sober immediately as the grin slowly left her face. What did this mean for Ginger?
    Amanda seemed to have the same thought at the same time, immediately straightening and clearing her throat. Her face was still nearly glowed from how red it was but she was much more composed. Glaring at the amused faces of the three males, the thin female rolled her green eyes before striding to the door and waiting there for Johnny to unlock the room. Despite her calm, semi-irritated exterior, the female was a whirlwind of confusion. She loved Ginger more than she had ever felt for someone before but something about Tom just drew her to him. Biting her lip, the brown haired woman found herself wondering if she would have to choose between the two.
    Thankfully it wasn’t too long before the movie star was opening the door and allowing them to walk into the huge suite. It was the exact same one as last time, making Raven wonder if the actor simply had the room on permanent reserve. Jonathan, of course, came charging in like he owned the place; only stopping to give Raven a tight hug. “How ya doin’ Raven?” Davis asked as he released her, grasping her hand to lead her to the couch.
    “I, er, uh,” she stammered, stumbling as the singer practically sat her down on the couch and threw himself down beside her.
    “You know, the news has been in an uproar since last night! Everyone is tryin’ ta find ya! You even have some record companies that want you to sign for them!” the mustached man announced nonchalantly, as if the news wasn’t surprising in the least.
    Raven only stared at the performer, her jaw dropped as horror began to fill her hazel eyes. “ Oh God no. The paparazzi already knows where I live! This is the last thing I needed,” she groaned, flopping backward onto the back of the couch and shutting her eyes.
    “I don’t want to become a famous singer! I could barely handle dating a famous person let alone being one myself! The constant attention would drive me batty!” the anxious female sighed out, fear tinging her voice as she pressed the palm of her left hand against her forehead.
    “You can stay here for a while, until the excitement dies down a bit,” Johnny offered from behind the couch, causing Raven to tip her head backward to see him. From her view, the actor looked upside down and she had to fight back a small snicker.
    “Thanks Johnny, it would be nice to get away from the house for a bit,” the black haired female admitted, her hazel gaze catching the upside down forms of Tom and Amanda. Righting her head and turning to get a better look, Raven saw Tom pulling out a chair at the table for her friend to sit in. As sweet as the scene was, it only deepened her worry. If Amanda became interested in Tom, what would that do to a certain bleach blonde drummer?
    Manson sat on the edge of his bed, his head clutched tightly between his black nailed hands. His mismatched eyes were squeezed tightly shut and his jaw was set, a muscle ticking occasionally under his skin. ‘I told you she’d leave you Brian. She’s just like all the others’ hissed a wholly unwelcome female voice from the back of his head. Letting loose a harsh snarl in response, the singer merely flung himself backward on his bed and clutched Kathy to his chest.
    Glaring up at the ceiling as if it had personally offended him, the rock star rolled to one side, curled into a fetal position and cuddled the ragged dog plush. “Shut up, just shut the hell up!” he bit out to the empty room, burrowing his nose into the toy’s short fur and inhaling deeply. Despite having it for a few days now, it still smelled faintly of her; helping calm his swirling thoughts just a little.
    “I fuckin’ miss you. Why the hell did I have to fuck things up so bad?” he sighed, his heterochromic gaze moving to where his liquor bottles had once stood. Deep down, he knew his band taking them had been for the best but he was still pissed off about it. Without the booze to numb him, he was left with the roaring pain and emptiness. He was left with the guilt and this hollow, burning feeling in his heart where she once was.
    Letting out a pained snarl that sounded more like a whine, the singer curled even tighter around the plush as he fought against the clenching feeling in his chest. Feeling tears prick at his eyes, Manson let out another pained snarl before dissolving into heartbreaking sobs. Sobs that sounded like they were being torn from the very depths of his soul. Sobs that were full of pain, longing, desperation and guilt. As the tears left him, it almost felt as if the pain in his heart had become a physical thing; clogging his throat and making it hard for him to breathe.
    Snarling viciously through his tear clogged throat, the rock star gripped handfuls of his own hair and began to tug; anything to distract him from this roaring agony filling him. “God fucking dammit! God fucking dammit!!!” he screamed, agony clear in his furious voice as he flung himself to his feet, grabbed the nightstand beside the bed and flung it at a wall. Then he released another choked sob as his hand twitched restlessly. He needed a drink, he needed a whore, he needed to hurt something; just anything to make him forget her for a second!
    A timid knock shot through his consciousness, drawing a low snarl from deep within his bony chest. Then he was striding to the door in long steps, his platform boots clumping loudly as his black nailed hands curled into tight fists. Whoever was on the other side of that door was going to very much regret bringing attention to themselves. With the mood he was in, he was going to absolutely tear them a new one if he didn’t outright attack them. “What!” he screamed as he flung the door open, glowering down at the person standing there.
    Ginger flinched back from the singer, almost wishing he could just sink into the carpet and disappear. When they had pulled up to the venue, the four of them had drawn straws to see who would be the unlucky one to go get Manson. The drummer, of course, had gotten the short end of the stick quite literally. Doing his best not to show the singer just how scared he was, the shorter male stood as straight as he could and met the rock star’s gaze steadily. “We’re here,” he stated simply, flinching when the door slammed shut in his face.
    “Pheeeeeww, looks like tonight is gonna be roooough!” Pogo sing-songed from behind him, sounding all too amused by Manson’s ire.
    “Yeah, looks like. We’ll have to keep an eye on him around the groupies tonight,” the drummer sighed, a grim look on his acne-scarred face. Unknown to him, John 5 and Pogo were exchanging equally grim looks while Tim began to move some equipment out of the bus.
    “And I’ll love you, if you won’t make me starve,” Manson nearly sobbed into the mic, gesturing violently to security before storming off the stage. In his rush, he didn’t noticed Tim following close behind him.
    “Are you sure you wanna do that?” came a Swedish accented baritone, nearly making the singer jump and almost drop his mask of rage.
    “Why the fuck wouldn’t I?” came the hissed response as the rock star refused to turn to look at his bassist.
    “You would only be using that poor woman to vent your pain and self hatred on,” came the knowing, neutral reply, the tone of bland uncaring only furthering Manson’s rage.
    “What I choose to do is my business,” the singer snarled, his mismatched eyes glittering dangerously.
    “You cannot take this out on innocent women,” the tall male replied calmly, not even ruffled by the taller male’s rage. The superstar jolted in place, before moving his eyes to the side. His hands twitched restlessly before he turned his back on the Swedish male.
    “Tell that security guard nevermind,” he bit out before stomping into the dressing room. As soon as the door was closed, the performer proceeded to completely destroy the room; tears flowing down his painted cheeks unnoticed. He flipped over tables, threw doors of the vanity across the room and stomped a coffee table in half. Then he turned to glare at the vanity mirror, the reflective surface showing him the fact that he was freely crying. With a loud, strangled cry, the singer punched through the mirror and crumpled to his knees; clutching his injured hand to his chest..
    “Fuck, Manson?! Guys I heard glass breaking!” called John 5’s voice, followed by the frantic jiggling of the locked doorknob. Then there was a thudding as someone threw themselves against the door.
    Within moments, the door came flying open to reveal Pogo and Tim. “Aw fuck, he jacked up his hand,” the mohawked keyboardist hissed when he saw the blood pouring from said appendage, moving to scoop the glaring singer into his arms and carrying him onto the tour bus. The rest of the band rushed onto the bus close behind, varying degrees of worry on their painted faces. Ginger went right for the first aid supplies while the keyboardist set Manson down on the couch.
    “Get the fuck away! I don’t need any help! I just need to wrap this bitch and be done with it,” the rock star snarled, trying to wave Gacy away; only to be pinned to the couch by Tim.
    “Dude are you kidding? You’re gonna need fucking stitches at least,” Pogo sighed, taking the kit from Ginger. Then the mohawked male was kneeling and examining the damage the singer had done. The appendage was covered in several cuts, many rather deep and bleeding profusely.
    “Tim, keep him pinned. Ging, hand me a needle and thread. John, go outside and get some air,” the musician commanded, grinning at the rather green looking guitarist.
    “Good idea,” John 5 conferred before rushing out of the bus.
    “I can fucking take care of this myself! I don’t need your fucking help!” Manson snarled, struggling against the tight hold Tim had on his bony, tattooed shoulders.
    “Yeah, cause you’ve done such a fantastic job of it so far,” the mohawked keyboardist snarked with a giggle as he began to dab the wounds with an alcohol soaked cotton ball, drawing a hiss of pain from the singer.
    Knowing Pogo wasn’t just talking about this incident, Manson glowered down at his bandmate; wishing he had the ability to set someone on fire with his stare. “We just wanna help,” Ginger murmured quietly, avoiding the rock star’s gaze as he handed the keyboardist a needle and thread.
    “I don’t want help!” the singer yelled, trying to pull his hand away from his bandmate. Tim only sighed irritably before releasing a shoulder briefly to lightly smack Manson’s make-up coated cheek.
    “What you want doesn’t matter right now,” the bassist murmured, drawing the performer’s angry gaze.
    His brown and whitish-blue eyes narrowed before he released a long, low growl and simply let them take care of his hand. Despite his angry exterior, he was honestly touched by how much his band seemed to care about him. In all the years he had played with them, they had become more like family than he had realized. “Thanks,” Manson gritted out reluctantly, keeping his heterochromic gaze fixed on his nylon covered legs.
    “No problem Manny boy!” Pogo chirped as he began to spread a numbing agent over the wounds that would need stitching. Then he got to work, whistling to himself merrily despite the sounds of discomfort coming from the ‘Antichrist Superstar’.
    After his hand had been disinfected and bandaged, Manson slumped back on the couch and closed his eyes with a sigh. Dark, bruise like circles were visible even under the make-up, making it fairly obvious that the singer hadn’t been sleeping well. “How long’s it been since you’ve eaten?” Ginger asked cautiously while Tim went to the door of the bus to get John. The singer didn’t answer verbally, merely shrugged while keeping his head resting against the back of the couch and his eyes closed.
    “Well, I guess it’s time for a McDonalds run!” Pogo cheered, sounding far too excited about the prospect of going to that restaurant. The sound of his enthusiasm made Ginger and Tim look at the mohawked male with suspicion as John came back onto the bus.
    “Why are you so excited about going there?” the drummer asked, wariness clear in his brown eyes.
    “Oh, no reasoooon,” the crazy keyboardist sang, tittering wildly as he flung himself into a chair. Now even Manson was looking at the lounging musician, a naked brow quirked in speculation.
    “Ugh, Gacy you can’t tell me you plan on using the Playland again,” John 5 groaned, moving a lock of his chin length, bleach blonde hair behind his left ear. Pogo only sniggered in response as Tim got behind the wheel and revved the engine to life.
    “We might as well go, you know he’ll be insufferable until we do,” Manson sighed, rolling his eyes before resuming his previous posture. The other two only stared at him for a moment before slumping in defeat. As much as they hated to admit it, the singer was right. As much chaos as Pogo would cause at the McDonalds, it simply didn’t compare to how much of a pain in the ass he was when he didn’t get his way.
    “McDonalds ho!” the insane musician cackled while pointing in the air dramatically, laying himself across the arms of the chair as the bus began to move down the road and towards the very unfortunate restaurant.
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The Rose and Thorn