Xerox Emotions

"Rhiannon, you are not going to that concert!" My mother yelled. "You don't control me!" I hissed as I walked out the front door. "That Marilyn Manson is no good for you!" Father screamed. I gave them the bird and kept running down the sidewalk. They're pissed but they will get over it eventually. Sporting baggy Tripps, Marilyn Manson jacket with matching T-shirt, a black pair of converse, spiked dog collar and fingerless gloves, I ran, my long blonde hair blowing in the breeze, exposing my pretty face and pale skin.A silver, 4 door sedan stopped next to me and the window rolled down. "Do you need a ride?" A lady asked. "Uh, sure." I replied, getting in the vehicle. "Marilyn Manson concert, right? She asked. "Yeah, I'm so excited!" "Me too! I'm Jill, by the way." She introduced. "I'm Rhiannon." Jill had a decent face with delacate features. She was small stature, not unlike myself but about 10 years older than me, but she had a brown pixie cut.
"Thanks for the ride, Jill." "Sure, it was nice to ride with someone new, for a change." The line at the venue was a mile long, I sighed. "Follow me, I'll get you in; I work here." Jill stated just as we approached three security men. "She's with me, I'm bringing her." They nodded and stepped aside, letting us both in. "I will help get the equipment set up, you stay here." Jill announced, pointing to a rickety round table and chair. "When does the band get here?" I asked. "Not for about another 20 minutes, just before the show starts."
After the opening band left, the great curtain lifted to reveal my idol- my hero- Marilyn Manson. A sexy, cat like stance over him, he towered atop all the rest in a god like way. He was charming in every aspect: from his black, swept over, shaved on one side hair, to his beautiful, elongated face, adorning famous, striped rockstar makeup (like in Slo-mo-tion) and down to his almost naked body; in just a pair of knee high platforms and a glittery red thong. There he stood in all of his glory. "I love you, Manson!" I screamed from the crowd, Manson looked at me and smiled.
"Sweet dreams are made of this." Marilyn sexily sang into the microphone as he bent over with his back to the crowd, only to reveal and tease us with his cute, pale, sexy ass while playing with the string of his thong. Manson got back up only to seductively touch and grope himself in the crotch. For a split second, I thought he and I had locked eyes. That's crazy. I'm 16, he'd want nothing to do with me. I thought to myself. "He just checked you out!" Jill exclaimed. "It couldn't be." I responded. "There he did it again!" She bellowed with a light hint of jealousy in her voice. I winked, hoping he'd notice.
"One of you lucky bitches will have the pleasure of coming on stage and acting as my fucking whore! Who is it gonna be? Show me your goddamn hands and raise them fucking high!" Manson screeched. All the girls flailed and jumped, doing anything to be noticed. Please pick me. Oh please pick me! I silently prayed. "You with the glowing lipstick, spiked collar and blonde hair, get your ass over here!" Marilyn commanded, pointing at me. "Me?" I asked. "Yeah, now get your fucking ass up there before he picks someone to take your place!" Jill urged as she pushed me toward the stage. People cleared the way, anxious to see what Marilyn Manson had planned for me. He grabbed my hand and yanked me up. "What is your fucking name?" "Rhiannon." I said, still in chock and star struck. "Well, Rhiannon, I have got a surprise for you! Close your fucking eyes while I put this blindfold over you." He instructed. I obeyed.
Seeing nothing but darkness, I waited, occasionally feeling him brush against me. Suddenly, it happened. "Each thing I show you is a piece of my death!" Manson voiced into the mic as his hands roamed freely around my body. I, on all fours, felt something rock hard beat up against my ass each time he pumped his hips forward and back against me. "Mmm." I gasped, backing myself on him, to get a better feel. Hands caressed and squeezed my breasts until I received a hard swat on the ass just before Manson jumped over me in a style like that of leap frog.
"You've been a great fuckin crowd!" Manson hollered when the show came to an end. I watched him look back at me when he walked off the stage through the back curtain with everyone else, leaving me stranded, alone.
I met Marilyn MAnson and didn't even talk to him, though I did get to be a part of a sexy performance. It's all good. I thought of this as I jumped off the stage and onto the ground, still in shock that out of everyone else, he picked ME. "Girl! Stop! Boss wants you to have this!" A tall, buff, tan guy yelled as he threw a lanyard at me. A VIP laminate was on the end of it, which read "Marilyn Manson BackStage Pass" In eerie lettering. He must want to see me backstage! Mom had been calling my phone for the past 20 minutes, leaving scary, threatening texts. I really wanted to meet Marilyn Manson, though. Please my parents or meet my lifelong idol? What should I do? I'm going for Manson!