All was going well with the show that night, the crowds were loving every heated moment of it. Manson was near the edge of the stage, bent down onto one knee and holding himself and his mic stand close to the ground as he screamed into it, the lucky fans closest to the stage were screaming and reaching out to their idol, as though somehow doing so might bring the man into their arms. The raven haired rocker was on his last song for the show that night, mOBSCENE. .
"Get your arms around me, Now we're going down, down, do-shit!" Manson's voice abruptly halted, so close to the end of the song and the end of the show, yet now things went wrong, he had only barely dodged out of the way as a stage techie screwed up, and one of the huge spot lights came crashing down, slamming into the stage at the very spot where Manson had been at not moments ago.
Manson stood up, almost as though the shards of glass embedded into his skin and little to no effect on him what so ever, though that was only half from the smashed light, and half from the wine bottle he had purposely cut himself with on stage.
"GOD DAMNED STUPID FUCKING IDIOT!!! TELL THAT LITTLE DIP SHIT HE'S FIRED! I COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED!!!!" Manson screamed at his stage manager as he exited the stage, the man nodded hastily and ran off in the other direction, anything to be away from Manson when he was so obviously in a bad mood, and for good reason too.
The raven haired shock rocker's pale skin was covered in blood and sweat from his neck all the way down to his knee high boots. The blood didn't show on black thong, corset, or gloves that extended to his elbows, but was undeniably there. He stalked into the shower room and stripped down out of what little clothing he wore without any modesty to speak of as one of his lackies turned on the water and Manson stepped underneath the spray of hot water.
"Just get the fuck out of here!" Manson demanded sharply, causing the lackie to practically jump right out of his skin. As if his word were law, everyone in sight scrambled away, leaving him to shower in peace, which he did for a while before retrieving a pair of tweezers and carefully removing as many broken shards of glass from his skin as he could. Once done with that he stepped out of the shower and quickly dried off before going out into his dressing room and sitting down on the couch to apply medicine onto his cuts then standing up and going threw his duffle bag to pull out his spare set of clothes, black leather pants, tight black sleeveless silk shirt and got dressed, along with the black knee high boots that he had been wearing before and plopping down with an annoyed sigh.
~*~
Meanwhile, an unknown figure was roaming around aimless, the short blonde haired boy didn't really know where he was going, but he tired to look as though he actually fit in. That wasn't an easy task considering that he was on the verge of going into fits of hyperventilation from his current state of excitement. Big baby blue eyes scanned over the backstage area that he had so sneakily found his way into, he had even gone threw the trouble of getting a fake backstage pass, and it wasn't a cheap one either, so he didn't get hassled at all by security, more than likely it was amused that he was a sound tech, or some other nerdy backstage job sense he didn't look the part of the average Marilyn Manson fan.
In actuality, Jamie Slyver wasn't having his pay checks signed by Marilyn Manson at all, he was a journalist, well... a new found journalist trying to make his way, and prove that he could be a valued writer. He was fresh out of collage, and it was quite rare for an editor to take a chance on a rookie with such an important story, but Jamie had done so well in school, that his talent couldn't be denied, and so.. the music zine that Jamie now worked for took a chance on him. This was Jamie's big break, he knew that he might never get another opportunity like this again if he were to screw up.
I can't believe that I'm actually here.. backstage.. at a Marilyn Manson concert! Jamie wasn't quite sure how he was even breathing, he'd never dreamed that he'd be able to come so close to his rock idol, well.. actually, he had dreamed about meeting Manson quite often, and not all of those dreams were..well, innocent, to say the very least, but Jamie knew that those were only dreams.. and this was actually real. He knew that because he'd pinched himself earlier to make sure, and sure enough, he was really here, and it had hurt.
Jamie's current dressing was quite simple, nothing that would really draw to much attention to himself. Not only was it bad for him to get to much attention because it would more than likely get him kicked out, but also because he was really shy, especially about his body. He wore baggy clothing, his khaki pants hung off of his slender hips, which really only made him look thinner than he actually was, alone with the over sized plain navy blue t-shirt that he wore. He looked more like a roadie than a groupie, which he really was neither, though he'd had quite a few good fantasies about being a groupie. Inside one of the pockets of his pants was a small note pad and a small camera. He didn't really need to take pictures for his article, that was more or less for personal use, he was after all still a loyal fan, perhaps even a fan before a writer, and he couldn't help himself but to take a few keepsake photos.
Right after the show had ended and Manson came off the stage, Jamie was close enough to hear him screaming in a fit of anger. The sound made Jamie feel as though his heart had simply stopped working at all, his body froze in place and he was almost sure that he wasn't going to be able to move again. Yet even still, he found some way to make his legs start to work and he followed after Manson, carefully trying not to be heard. The whole time he simply stood outside the door to his dressing room, his heart pounding wildly as he waited for something to happen.. anything. He knew that he shouldn't go inside, or even dare to take a peek, he idly wondered if Manson had even gotten dressed yet. The thought of personally seeing Manson naked made his insides twist in delight.
Manson sighed deeply, pouring himself a glass of Absinthe, the bright green liqueur filling the clear glass elegantly. He was somewhat aware that someone was following him around, more than likely just some fan, he didn't address it, or even really acknowledge the fact that anyone was around. He figured that whoever it was hadn't made themselves known because he was to star struck and would probably lose their nerve and run away. Manson didn't particularly like or want to put up with any fan that was to afraid to even speak to him, though with his given mood, it wasn't really all that surprising that anyone would be to scared to step up to him.Though if he started taking pictures he'd have to do something about it. He smirked to himself taking a small sip of the strong drink, the bitter licorice flavor sliding down his throat. He started to reapply his make-up, though he didn't do it nearly as heavy as he did for the shows, simply a small amount of black eye shadow and liner, with deep crimson painted lip, both of which contrasted nicely with his soft pale skin. Even though it wasn't for a show, he was still careful with his make-up doing it perfectly.
Jamie felt as though his knees had simply turned into jelly and he could no longer move at all, every inch of him was trembling, he even had to grasp a hold of the wall from fear that he might simply fall down to the floor. His mind was telling him that he should run away, that he wasn't meant to be here, and he was going to get himself into deep shit if he stayed around. In the back of his mind he could almost hear himself getting screamed at by the shock rocker, maybe even worse.. who knows, he may even end up on the wrong end of Manson's tensions for that night and literally kicked out on his ass. Even with all of those fears running wild in the back of his mind, he still had to do this, he had to find some way to get his interview, and perhaps even a nice snap shot his idol for himself, some kind of proof that he was actually here, not that he really wanted to brag about it to anyone else, he just wanted something solid that could tell him that this was really happening to him, and that he wasn't going to wake up in his bed back in his apartment, disappointed that it was only a wild dream.
The blonde haired boy bit down harshly on his own bottom lip, repeating over and over in his mind that this had to be done, he couldn't just wimp out of shit like he always did when there was fear of failure or embarrassment. It would be far more embarrassing to have to go back to work empty handed.Jamie forced himself to stop over thinking everything, and decided that he should start with something small, a picture! Maybe Manson wouldn't even notice. Jamie had yet to even look into the room once Manson had emerged from the bathroom, what if he was still naked? Jamie couldn't help but think that it was wrong to get a picture of Manson naked, no matter how wonderful and hot that may be, he secretly hoped that he was, despite his mind saying how wrong it was. After one deep breath, Jamie pulled out his camera, and leaned past the door frame and snapped one really quick photo and just as quickly retreating to lean against the wall, panting heavily for air and hoping that he didn't get caught, his eyes closed softly. He'd got such a rush from doing that, it didn't matter than Manson had been dressed, even though it would of been great to get a shot of him naked, it was equally as exciting to get to one of him fully dressed and with his make-up.
Unfortunately for Jamie, Manson's hearing was quite keen and his senses sharp, the slight soft of the camera snapping didn't go unnoticed to him, partially because he'd been aware that Jamie was there in the first place.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" Manson screamed at the person who he could not see, but figured was still close enough to hear him. He got up quickly, figuring whoever it was would probably try to run now. He narrowed his eyes darkly in the direction of the door as he quickly rose and stalked over to the door, stepping about half way out a looking around, immediately he spotted Jamie, slightly surprised that he was still standing against the wall outside the door. He roughly snagged him by the neck of his shirt and dragged him inside of the dressing room, slamming the door closed behind him. Manson pushed Jamie up against the closed door, looking down and spotting his camera, quickly snatching it from him and ripping the roll of film right out of it.
