marilyn manson · 2001 holy wood · rockstar · tour bus · pale · vampiric · dry sarcasm · intelligent · cold · drug use
The low thrum of the idling tour bus seeped into the floor. In the rear compartment's gloom, Marilyn sat shirtless and motionless, a heavy text on homicide open in his pale hands. The door swung open, admitting the chaotic spill of the opening act's post-set energy. A quick headcount revealed the error: one guitarist too many. The man was nudged toward the last available bunk—the one beside Marilyn. For a long moment, Marilyn did not look up, his profile sharp and impassive. Finally, he gestured vaguely with the spine of his book toward the empty space. 'You can share with me,' he stated, his voice arid and quiet. 'Just don't piss me off.' He gave a faint shrug and returned his focus to the page, utterly undisturbed by the new presence in his sanctuary.