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My Strange Romance	By : FlameWolf666 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Marilyn Manson Views: 5046 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not know Marilyn Manson. This fic is a work of fiction and just for fun, no profit will be made from it.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
- 6
Author’s Note: While still living in Colorado with Manson as a roomie, Cherise ends up being victim of a surprise birthday party. Her friends conspired to make sure she had a decent birthday.

Mephistopheles of Los Angeles (c) Marilyn Manson

The Birthday

By: FlameWolf

    “Absolutely not Lily! You know how I feel about making a big deal about... this stuff,” Cherise sighed, a migraine pounding between her temples as she hoped the silly woman hadn’t called Lavender and Allison. If either of those two got involved, a huge to-do was bound to follow and that was the last thing she wanted on her twenty-ninth birthday. Unfortunately, her well-meaning friend seemed to have other opinions; if the sigh that gusted over the line was any indication.
    “You’ve become so afraid of it that you won’t even say you’re having a birthday out loud!” protested a weary, worry laden reply that tugged on her heart strings and made her soften despite herself. Heaving a sigh, the paint splattered woman began to pace as she gestured with a hand that still held a brush; inadvertently getting paint everywhere.
    “I’m not afraid of anything! I just don’t want to get stuffed into some crowded bar again and get sung to by the drunken masses. Last year was more than enough of that,” the dual haired femme responded, brushing a green strand of her dyed bangs out of her pale face and smearing her right cheek with a bright red.
    “Well, its just that we’ve also noticed you haven’t called any of us to come over in about a week. All of are worried you’re still dwelling over this guy you refuse to tell us the name of. We just want to make sure you’re okay,” returned the soft voice of one of her oldest, most loyal friends and making guilt crash over her in a wave.
    “Look! It’s... it’s fucking complicated. Suffice to say, me and the guy worked things out and he’s been settling in. He also doesn’t precisely know when my... that today is... and I would like to keep it that way. We’re just getting things back on track and I don’t want him to think he has to do anything special. Not to mention the fact we haven’t decided to go public yet. I just don’t know if he’s okay with people knowing I’m dating him,” she finally confessed, oblivious to the fact she was quickly turning her studio into what looked like a murder scene.
    “You make it sound like you’re dating a famous person. I mean, unless this guy is famous all of those prerequisites are a bit nuts. He has to have some massive ego if he’s...,” her childhood friend began to rant.
    “Stop! Just stop! All I can tell you is that he is famous. Other than that, just trust me when I say its better things stay more quiet this year. No wild parties,” Cherise bit out, anger and exasperation only adding to the sickening pounding between her temples. While she didn’t like the assumptions the other woman was making about her current house guest / room mate, she felt the slightest bit touched by her concern. Still, that didn’t lessen the sting of anger.
    The young artist had idolized the singer since she was a teenager and had fallen deeply in love with him during the course of their short, odd relationship. Hearing someone else talk badly about him understandably made her blood boil, even if that someone was her best friend. “Alright, alright. Just promise me you’ll introduce me to your mystery man soon,” came the reply from the other end just before it clicked and went dead. Heaving a sigh, the paint covered woman hug up the phone on her end before noticing just what she had done in her distraction. Streaks and splotches of crimson were everywhere, making the homey room look like a ghoulish slaughterhouse.
    “Great, this will take hours to clean,” she hissed out, frustration coloring her tone as her gaze moved to take in her work clothes as well. She never heard the subtle creak of someone moving away from the closed door.
    He hadn’t meant to listen in, not truly. He had been putting away some groceries he had bought when he had heard Cherise’s voice was slightly raised. Curious, he had walked over and overheard a few things that raised quite a few questions and had given him quite a few ideas. Even with him moving in with her until she was more ready to move to California with him, they hadn’t really discussed going public with any degree of seriousness. On top of that, it almost sounded like today was a certain woman’s birthday; a fact that made him panic just the tiniest bit.
    While it had sounded like she didn’t expect anything and had gone out of her way to not inconvenience him, the rockstar found himself in an awkward spot. This was his first birthday with her and, after all the shit he had put her through, he felt he had to get her a gift. The only problem was that he didn’t have nearly enough time to get anything meaningful, let alone plan anything. If he wanted to pull this off, he would have to conspire behind her back; a notion that made him nervous. Even after living together for a while, trust was still being built between them; Cherise coming to him more and more often when something was bothering her.
    At such an early stage, doing anything behind her back could end in disaster. Still, he couldn’t just sit by and let her birthday go by uncelebrated. Putting away the rest of the food he had bought, the singer made a decision he hoped he wouldn’t come to regret. Before he did anything, the skeletally thin male moved to the door of her studio; listening for a while and only moving to the phone when he heard the sounds of shuffling. Thankfully a dial tone greeted his ear rather than two voices and he began to rifle through the rolodex of contacts that were next to the body of the phone. Since she was so shy there weren’t that many people and she had taken the time to label each of them, making his job easier. It wasn’t too long before he found a woman labelled as childhood best friend. Taking the cordless phone into the bathroom that was near-by, the singer silently prayed this woman would hear him out and not get too star-struck.
    Her cleaning effort was going surprisingly fast, the wet paint wiping off easily. It was getting to the paint on the ceiling that had proven to be a problem. She had to dig out her step ladder for that, grumbling to herself as she cleaned. It was only luck or some deity watching over her that prevented her from falling during the operation. She had come close a few times, only feeling safe once her bare feet touched carpet again. Then she had resumed work, a strange piece that had obviously been inspired by her controversial boyfriend.
    There was a lot of black, red and white, almost resembling his face mind snarl. Yet there was an abstract touch to the piece. While it still resembled the subject the visage on the canvas was more surreal, angular and almost seeming to blend into the black and reds of the background. The eyes were the only clear point, one whitish blue with a smaller pupil while the other was a chocolate brown. The strange fringe of his hair was represented by vicious streaks of black with highlights of red thrown in here and there. If anyone was to take a close enough look, they would know right away just who they were looking at. It was one of those pieces she would never be able to show but would cherish anyway.
    Heaving a sigh, the ebony clad twenty-eight year old dipped her brush before getting to work once more. A deft movement of her left hand soon had one of her favorite Manson albums playing and she found herself singing along as her tool moved over undefined lines to sharpen them. “I don’t know if I can open up, I’ve been opened enough,” she sighed in a melodic voice, empathizing with the lyrics heavily as her reality slipped away and she began to enter what could only be called ‘The Groove’. A very special state where your muse simply takes charge and your body just flies, making magnificent art you don’t even remember doing when you come back to yourself. It was a phenomenon common to anyone who did anything creative.
    The closed entry almost seemed to loom before him as he stared at the stain coating on the door. It had been a few hours since he had come back from the store and that meant, as far as he knew, that Cherise hadn’t left her small studio since she had gone in at six this morning. He only knew this because her rush to get downstairs had woken him up long enough to look at the clock. If his assumption was true, that more than likely meant she hadn’t eaten since he had manage to stuff french toast into her at about ten this morning. Needless to say, he was a bit worried but really didn’t want to interrupt her if she was in a creative flow.
    Still, he had to at least make sure she hadn’t had some sort of accident and reluctantly knocked on the wood of the door. He wasn’t too surprised when he got no response and only heard loud, very familiar music. In fact, he was a bit amused to find it was his music; her voice singing along quite well and coming close to making him forget why he was trying to get her attention in the first place. Shaking his head, he opened the entry; even more stunned by what he saw. There were several canvases with his face on them, all in various art styles. There were even a few of his various personas he had over the years, giving him the strangest feeling of happiness as he slowly came into the small room.
    When he set a hand on her black covered shoulder, the goth rocker found himself inwardly amused when she nearly shot through the ceiling. A ceiling that still had faint splotches of paint on it, making the performer wonder briefly just what had happened while he was gone. “Brian! You fucking scared the life out of me! Why on Earth didn’t you knock?” came a breathless, half-heartedly angry hiss from the level of his chest, drawing his attention back to the reason why he had come in here in the first place. Her pale cheeks were high with color, her hands on her hips as her generous chest heaved slightly; her blue eyes glittering with more amusement than true fury.
    “I tried knocking. You didn’t hear me. I just came to the realization that you’ve cooped yourself up in her for several hours without food. Would you like to join me for lunch?” the performer asked, a strangely nervous smile curling his black coated lips.
    She really wanted to argue but her stomach had other plans, choosing that exact moment to growl loudly. Placing a hand over the offending organ as a blush colored her cheeks, the artist found herself put in her place by her own body. “It seems my tummy has spoken for me. Just let me get out of these ‘art clothes’ and put something clean on. I feel a bit gross all covered in paint,” she huffed, tugging at the shirt and jeans she wore and grimacing at the red and white splattering it. She was sure there was black as well but that blended in far too well with the color of the clothing to be distinguished.
    “Alright, I have a place I’d like to take us to anyway,” came the casual response, the words making her freeze mid-step.
    Heart hammering as her vision blurred, the utterly shocked woman did her best to process what he had just said. It had almost sounded like he wanted to take her out into public, as if it weren’t that big a deal. An idea that made her both want to kiss him and run far away. As much as she loved him, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for the life of a rockstar’s girlfriend. Especially one that garnered as much attention as the ‘White Emperor’. There would be all kinds of scrutiny, hate mail and headlines revolving around their relationship; effectively throwing a spotlight on her private life. “Will I have to dress up?” came out of her automatically, despite all her inner hesitations.
    A pair of bony but strong arms wrapped around her from behind as his scent flooded her world, making her swoon as he pressed against her. “No sweetie. Just your usual will be fine. Its a fairly small place, virtually unknown by the people around. It’ll be a perfect introduction to how things will be,” sighed a baritone in her left ear just before gentle teeth nibbled the lobe, making her sigh.
    “Are you... are you sure?” the question about so much more than just going out to eat. What she really wanted to know if he was sure enough about them to go public about their relationship. Well, as public as a place like the one he described could be anyway.
    “Of course I am. I’m very serious about this relationship. That the whole reason why I moved in here. If I have my way, I’ll be spending the rest of my life with you,” rumbled his voice just before he kissed her neck and reached down to give both ass cheeks a squeeze.
    “Now go get dressed. I want to get food in you before you starve to death,” came a gruff tease before he slapped her butt, the surprise of the impact jolting her forward.
    It was more shock than hurt, her ample buns pleasantly warm but not stinging from the open palmed smack. Rubbing the spot instinctually, the young woman scampered up to her room with her heart racing. She had never really been into spanking and yet that light tap had her rubbing her thighs together as lust burned slowly in her lower belly. Not really wanting to travel down that track of thought, she whipped open her drawers to pull out clothes; ending up with some blue jeans and a shirt with a rather sarcastic phrase plastered on the front. Once that was done, she headed to her personal bathroom to check on her appearance.
    As soon as she was up the stairs, the singer was on the phone with Lily; still extremely grateful she had decided to believe him without much fuss. Or, at least she was pretending to believe him. Either way, she was making a good accomplice and agreed openly to the meeting place as well as his plan. She had even already sent two of Cherise’s friends ahead a while ago like he had asked, everything was falling in place. Still, as he pulled on his leather trenchcoat and ran out the door; he felt uneasy. It felt like he was doing the oblivious woman upstairs a great wrong despite the fact what he was doing would be considered wholly innocuous. “Forgive me for this kitten,” he whispered placing a pair of oversized sunglasses on his face and shutting the door behind him.
    Needless to say, when the purple banged femme made her way downstairs and saw two of her friends in the place of her boyfriend; Cherise was beyond confused. In fact, she wondered if she had briefly wandered into an alternate dimension. Pausing on the stairs, the stunned woman blinked in the vain hopes that things would make more sense once her eyes opened again. Unfortunately, Lavender and Allison were still there; looking up at her with welcoming smiles. “Uuuuhhhh,” gusted out of her in an unsure sigh as her body moved forward of its own accord. Things only got more confusing when the pair each grabbed an arm.
    “Sorry sweetie,” sighed the bronze skinned beauty to her right.
    “Yep! We got places to go!” chimed in the blonde valley girl to her left, her fake tan making her skin a strange, orange color.
    Before the rather reclusive artist could respond, they were dragging her out into bright sunlight. Within seconds, they had her stuffed in Lavender’s mini-van before they were speeding away from her house. As they made their way down the deserted road, it finally occurred to her to question just what had happened. Where had Brian gone and, more importantly, just what were her friends doing at her house and where were they taking her? “Uh, what the fuck?” rasped out of her and she found herself feeling more confused than anything else.
    “You’ll have to ask this mysterious man of yours when we get to ‘Rita’s’,” came a response from the driver’s side of the vehicle, effectively telling her she wouldn’t be getting any further information. Sighing, she stared out the window; watching the fields and sparse trees pass by as they made their way to the suburban area of where she lived.
    The owners of the restaurant, while being a bit confused, were completely okay with whatever these strange people that had come in needed. Thankfully, this restaurant allowed local bands to come in and play. Therefore, it had a nice stage in the middle of a spacious room that could be used for a show if need be. There were also several places he could hook up a sound system as well as a wealth of electrical outlets for the rest of the band, should he have one on hand. Unfortunately, he would have to do the best he could with the local talent; depending heavily on Lily’s knowledge of people who could at least hold a pick in their fingers.
    He only had a short while to conduct interviews, the two women with Cherise being instructed to dawdle in town until he called them. He could only afford a few minutes at the most and he would have to pray who he ended up with could carry a tune. “Lily, have you made the calls?” he shouted over the sound of moving furniture as the employees of the restaurant prepared the dance floor and cleaned the stage. Just hearing his voice made her jolt before she turned to face him, nodding almost nervously and making him think back to how she had reacted when she had seen he wasn’t lying about who he was.
    He had arrived at the location first, paying off the owner to close for the time being while they got things set up. After that, the employees had been scattered to help; listening to what had to be done and accomplishing the task quickly. He had just gotten them to start giving him menu ideas when the mysterious Lily had walked in. She had looked around with an almost bored expression, her chin length, black hair framing her china doll face. Her skin was so pale it almost glowed and her eyes were a deep brown as well as almond shaped. If he had been single, he would have been tempted to seduce her; his breath leaving him as her gaze finally landed on him. The complacent expression immediately fled for disbelief and faint horror as she took an instinctual step back.
    Taking that as his cue; he put a friendly smile on his face and approached her while taking his sunglasses off, sticking them in his shirt before putting out his hand. Of course, the poor woman could only stare at him like some being from another planet; some of the circuits in her brain blowing out as she tried reconcile what she was seeing. From her reaction alone, he knew she had thought he was lying about his identity. She had probably only gone along with him out of desperation to ensure her best friend had a good birthday. “Hey, name’s Brian. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Do you have the contacts I asked for?” he had asked, effectively breaking her out of her spell.
    Even now, she still acted a bit star struck but powered through it like a trooper; never letting her nervousness get in the way of answering any question he had. Just then, a ragged looking young man came into the door; as if on cue. He was dressed in all black, the knees of his jeans were torn, his stringy, ebony hair hung in his gaunt face and it looked like he hadn’t eaten in about a week. This kid reminded him sharply of himself when he first started and he felt just the slightest bit of confidence stir within him. If this young man could keep his shit together enough to work with ‘Marilyn Manson’, this was a promising start to the proceedings.
    As her friends led her into a small mall on the outskirts of town, Cherise found herself dwelling on one important detail. Lunch. The whole reason they were dragging her out of her house, the reason why Manson had pulled her away from painting had been to get her to eat lunch. And yet, here she was being led around to clothing shops Allison pointed out to Lavender. They were only shops someone like the bouncy blonde would enjoy and yet her tomboy friend was acting as if they were the best thing she had ever seen. It was enough to cement her earlier suspicion that she had stepped into some sort of alternate dimension. In fact, she almost expected Rod Serling to step out from behind a kiosk as they passed by.
    Her imagination even went so far as to provide his corny narration about her situation as well as a slow fade to black and white. The fact that Lavender, a woman who openly loathed anything girly, squealed over a pink skirt Allison pointed out did nothing to alleviate the suspicion. “Alright guys, why don’t you just tell me what’s going on?” she snarled, starting to feel a bit scared about all the strangeness that was happening. It certainly didn’t help that she still didn’t have an explanation for just what had happened to Brian or why her friends had seemingly taken his place.
    “Sorry hun, we can’t It won’t be much longer now. How ‘bout we go to a store you’d like?” suggested her dark skinned friend, a smile on her pretty face as the woman placed an arm across her shoulders. Then she was being led out into a mall, eventually picking an Asian store to look around in while her mind still spun with questions.
    It took only fifteen minutes total to get everything settled but it had felt like an eternity to the singer. Despite his best efforts, things had been dragged out much longer than he had hoped and he found himself feeling a bit nervous for how well Cherise was handling things. He had left without notifying her, a huge test of their extremely new trust. All he wanted was all of this to be done with so he could make that call and show her he hadn’t left her again. As soon as the last mic stand was in place, he was opening his phone to call her friends; his heart pounding against his ribs as he paced nervously.
    They were just about to walk out of the mall when a strange ringtone began to come from Allison’s jeans pocket. The ditzy female simply patted at the pocket before bringing the device out and pressing it to her ear. Lavender simply nodded as if she knew what was going on, continuing to lead an increasingly confused Cherise back to the blue mini-van. Instead of asking useless questions, the dual haired woman simply rolled her eyes before getting in the back and staring out the window. As she watched cars pass by, her mind was working on what could be possibly be going on.
    As the flaxen haired Allison got into the car, it dawned upon Cherise that it was entirely possible Manson had conspired with her friends to give her a surprise party. A wave of affection tinged irritation flowed through her as her eyes widened and her heart stuttered. If this was true, it would explain literally everything and she had no idea if she felt touched or extremely pissed off. Shaking her head as a reluctant smile curled her lips despite herself, she simply shook her head as relief washed away all the apprehension she had felt earlier. This was only helped when her slightly airheaded friend handed her cellphone to the artist with a soft smile on her pink lips. “Someone wants to talk to you,” chirped the chipper female as the phone exchanged hands.
    Pressing the phone to her ear, she felt suspicions she hadn’t even realized she had bleed away when she heard a familiar baritone over the connection. “Hey babe, didn’t mean to leave ya in the lurch like that but I had a few things to attend to and I called your friends to occupy you while I was busy. I hope you don’t mind. Are you ready to meet me at the restaurant?” came his purr, sounding almost a bit unsure and nearly making her giggle. Taking a deep breath as she nibbled her lower lip, she shook her head as she let out an affirming noise.
    “Are you... okay? Usually you give more of a response than that. Please tell me you aren’t mad about me leaving without telling you. I had a perfectly good reason,” came the pleading rush as the woman in the driver’s seat started the small van, put it in gear and backed out of the parking space.
    “Brian, I’m fine. Am I to assume these two are gonna have lunch with us?” she asked as the vehicle moved down the road.
    It both took no time at all and an eternity to reach their destination, her entire body about to crawl its way out of her skin by the time they parked. Curling her hands into tight fists to hide her building excitement, Cherise waited for the mode of transportation to stop moving before unbuckling her seatbelt. Stepping into the parking lot, her azure gaze moved to her dear friends. While Lavender had an excellent poker face, Allison couldn’t fool a toddler. Though that didn’t stop the bubbly girl from doing her best, her lips pursed together in a desperate attempt not to grin. Her pink nailed hands were also curled in the cashmere sweater she wore as she seemed to twitch in place ever so slightly.
    She could have taken that moment to ruin it for everyone and point out that she knew just what was going on. Instead she maintained a neutral expression of her own before taking point into the restaurant. As soon as the doors opened, she was greeted to a small gathering of some of her other friends but no sign of her missing lover. Deciding to just go with it, she allowed her exasperated joy to show on her face as the blonde behind her and to her right began to hop up and down in excitement. “Happy birthday. I hope this is low-key enough. Your man set up the whole thing within a matter of minutes,” whispered the slightly accented voice of the friend to her left.
    Tears in her eyes as her heart swelled with emotion, Cherise spun to give both of them a tight hug before giving them playful smacks upside the head. “I hate you guys so much right now but... thank you. What I would have given to see the looks on your guys’ faces when you saw who my mystery lover was,” she lamented, grinning when she looked up to see the pair had gone very pale.
    “Y-yeah that was quite a shock. He was a lot friendlier than I expected,” murmured the quiet voice of Lavender, the soft light from over head bouncing off her rich, black curls as they moved toward a table near the center of the floor. It was obviously where she was supposed to be, especially given the fact the two women flanking her moved her there without letting her stop to consider other places to sit.
    As her butt met the glorious cushion of the chair to the left of the table, she allowed herself to look over what was sprawled out in front of them. It was a large, waxed, hardwood floor, a slightly elevated stage standing at the far end of the room. There was only a microphone in the center of the platform, the rest of it obscured by thick curtain. It was then she realized the room had gone eerily quiet. Skin prickling with anticipation, Cherise licked her lips as she brushed a green strand of her bangs behind her ear. Sure enough, a spotlight flickered on to focus on the center of the stage; the dark red curtain fluttering before parting to reveal Marilyn Manson.
    The rock star was dressed in his full stage garb; corset, g-string, torn nylons and his trademark smirk. Behind him, shadows stirred as a makeshift band got into place and waited for their cue. Mismatched eyes swept the crowd until they landed on his target, his smirk widening into a smile for a split second before he cued the ragtag group behind him. While they all looked like something he had dragged out of a dumpster, they played like a dream; hitting all the correct notes despite learning the songs today. It was some help that all of them were fans of his and had heard his music before. “I don’t know if I can open up, I’ve been opened enough,” he purred as the first notes of the song played. Then he was hopping off the stage, gripping his mic as he began to really get into the song.
    “I don't know if I can open up, I'm not a birthday present,” he crooned just before the guitars dropped into a tune that made the people gathered sway in their seats. Despite the looks of confusion from the few strangers, no one moved to interrupt the performance.
    “I’m aggressive regressive, the past is over and the passive scenes so pathetic,” the superstar rasped, gesturing for a certain artist with verdant bangs.
    Eyes going wide, she didn’t even stop to think about just how many people would be watching this and got out of her chair to join a man who graced her bedroom walls. As their palms met, she found herself singing along; already having memorized the lyrics to his newest CD. “Are we fated, faithful, or fatal?” she whispered, her heart aching from love and sheer elation as she leaned into the taller male.
    “Are we fated, faithful, or fatal?” he repeated before the music really dropped and they began to dance. Well, more like spin in a small circle with their hands connected before stopping to stare at eachother.
    “I feel stoned and alone like a heretic and I’m ready to meet my maker,” he belted, a fire blazing in his heterochromic eyes that took her breath away.
    “I feel stoned and alone like a heretic. I’m ready to meet my maker,” her voice reiterated on instinct alone, some part of her barely able to believe this was happening. As a teen, she had often dreamed of something like this happening, finding the fact it could never happen bittersweet. The fact it was occurring now was beyond surreal.
    “Lazarus has got no dirt on me,” he growled, tugging on her wrist to pull her tight against his lean frame.
    “Lazarus has got no dirt on me,” she whispered, kissing his make-up coated chin and drinking in the shudder that rolled through his body.
    “And I’ll rise to every occasion. I’m the mephistopheles of Los Angeles,” the performer hissed, burrowing his nose into the crook of her neck and inhaling deeply.
    “Of Los Angeles,” he sighed against her pulse before he was pulling away to dance his way across the floor before whirling to fix her with an intense stare from across the room.
    “Don't know if I can open up, I been opened too much. Double-crossed, glossed over in my pathos,” she sang out, sounding clear despite her lack of a microphone. The smile he gave her in return made her feel warm and tingly all over.
    Then he was prowling toward her as he began to growl out the beginning of the chorus again. As soon as he reached her, he was getting to the real meat of the refrain. Then he was taking her into his arms and spinning her, taking her with him as he repeated the same lines yet again. As he came to a stop, the last part of the song was finishing; his mismatched eyes locked with hers as he sang out the last lines. “I’m the mephistopheles of Los Angeles,” rumbled out of him before he was taking her lips in a kiss that was possession incarnate. Teeth nipped her soft lips as a bony hand came up to wrap in her hair while the last of the music faded away.
    Before she could gather her wits enough to react, he was breaking the embrace to face the crowd watching them; holding her close to him as he raised his mic. “Happy birthday sweetheart. I love you very much,” he announced, pressing another smooch to her forehead as a quiet murmuring started. The announcement was so sudden that the woman in his hold was only looking up at him with a semi-dazed expression. It almost looked like she hadn’t believed what she heard, shaking herself free of her stupor when the celebrity turned to focus on her with concern crinkling his pale brow. He looked almost scared that he had done something wrong and was opening his mouth to say something.
    “Oh Brian, I love you too,” she announced, making sure she was loud enough to be picked up by the device he held in his left hand. Then she was standing on tip-toe to plant a kiss to his chin, ignoring the teasing hoots coming from her friends in the crowd. She knew she would have a lot to explain later but, for now, all she wanted to do was lead him back to the table and enjoy her night.
    Thankfully, her to friends at the table seemed to understand this and didn’t bombard the singer with questions. Instead, they simply fell into treating him like a friend; laughing and joking with him as if he had always been there. A fact Cherise found a bit confusing at first but soon fell into the rhythm of. Soon she was so distracted with sharing funny childhood anecdotes that she never noticed the superstar scooting his chair closer to hers. That is, until she felt a hand land on her upper thigh. Eeping as she jumped in place, the artist flushed a dark red as her friends teased her about being goosed. Manson only chuckled in response, his hand tightening ever so slightly for a brief second.
    As conversation continued, the painter found her focus shifting to the appendage on her upper thigh. Mostly due to the fact that long, skilled fingers were beginning to dance over the denim of the jeans she wore, inching their way towards her junction. Looking at the man to her right out of the corner of her eye. If not for the fact his hand was moving toward a very apparent location, Cherise would have no clue he was up to anything at all. The long time stage personality spoke with an ease of someone long used to putting a false face up for the sake of others. Something that made her feel both comforted and slightly apprehensive. After all, if he was this good at hiding things from her friends; how much easier would it be for him to do with someone who trusted him.
    As if sensing which direction her thoughts were taking, Manson leaned over to give her cheek a quick peck; using her distraction to rest his hand over her denim clad junction. At first, she clamped her legs shut out of simple reaction; her breath hitching in her chest as his voice faded to a drone in her ears. Instead of pulling away, the goth rocker next to her kept his hand in place. To his credit, he did nothing to sexually stimulate her; merely kept the limb in place as he proceeded to converse. Not daring to so much as move, Cherise tried to think about what she should do in this situation.
    This wasn’t the first time he had initiated intimate contact in a public setting and he had stopped as soon as she had made her discomfort known. There was also the fact that she didn’t really want him to stop. As strange as it was, the normally reserved woman felt a warm glow of excitement growing inside her the longer his hand lingered. After a few moments, she allowed her legs to relax as a slow breath left her. Giving an extremely subtle nod to her partner, Cherise allowed herself to laugh casually at a comment from Allison. She was rewarded with a sensual brush against the material covering her nethers.
    She could feel the heat of his hand as well as the light brushes, though it felt more like a distant pressure. Shifting slightly as she let out a quiet huff, Cherise pressed further into his touches as she began an amusing story of her own. Soon, the waiter appeared to take their order; Manson continuing his strange assault as he told the well groomed man what he would like to eat. By the time the server got to her, the painter found herself feeling rather hot and bothered. Her skin fairly buzzed and tingled as she did her best to keep from squirming in place, a heat building steadily in her lower body.
    The superstar next to her seemed utterly oblivious to her inner torment, not reacting to the soft gasps that left her on occasion as the sensations intensified. A fact that would have made her furious if she weren’t so distracted by what was happening. At a certain point, Cherise had found herself simply unable to continue talking; nodding as she forced a laugh to one of Lavender’s more embarrassing stories about their childhood. However, she didn’t really hear the words that were being said. No, her entire being was beginning to focus on one thing; wanting more contact.
    Despite her outward, calm demeanor the artist was a cauldron of building desire. Her lower belly felt like it was full of molten lead, only getting hotter as his fingertips danced over the denim that was providing a maddening shield. As she spouted more stories or laughed with her friends, all she could think about was how much she wanted to tackle the rock star to the floor and have her way with him in front of everyone. Seeming to sense her desperation, the male next to her pressed a bit harder; seeming to go stiff for a split second when she let out a quiet whimper in response.
    Doing her best to keep her breathing steady, Cherise knotted her fists in the tablecloth as she felt Manson increase speed ever so slightly. His mask fell away just enough to allow her to see his jaw twitching as his dilated pupils focused on her for a mere second. For just that brief amount of time, the green banged femme could see he was just as in need as she was. Leaning her lower body into his touch under the table, she grinned up at the server as he brought their freshly cooked food. As the first plate touched the tablecloth, her palm met the straining erection under taut leather.
    To his credit, the performer so much as pause in his sentence; his engorgement pulsing against her hand as his hand pressed hard against the junction of her pants. Breath stuttering in her throat as she felt something inside her tighten, Cherise forced a bite of her food into her mouth while her free hand kept moving on the manhood that surging against it. That specific part of anatomy was telling her exactly how much he was enjoying the attention. It seemed to swell, pressing into her palm as it began to twitch on occasion. From the feel of it, it wouldn’t take much to finish him. Though, from the way her body wanted to shudder as the raging fire built inside her, she was in the same predicament he was.
    She could feel an inferno burning through her veins as what felt like a coil of pressure tightened, tightened; then exploding as she slumped slightly. Eyes going slightly wide, she took in deep breaths to maintain composure as she continued to move her hand over her lover’s stiff member through his pants. The loud atmosphere drowned out the silent snarl huffing out of the star, his lean body shuddering ever so subtly. Thankfully her friends were too tipsy and wrapped up in talking to each other to notice his flared nostrils or the way his gaze focused on her. Once they left here, she was in for a very long night and she felt her blood heat at the thought. She even dared to give him a saucy smirk, knowing he wouldn’t dare to kiss her roughly in front of her friends. The glare he gave her out of the corner of his eye was enough to let her know she was only making more trouble to herself and she only felt more excited.
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My Strange Romance