Revulsion, a velvet goldmine fanfic

Revulsion

A Blur songfic. ONE-SHOT

The rhyme and reason for why Shannon never looks terribly happy.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters involved in this fic, nor do I own the lyrics of End of the Century.

A/N: I realize that Shannon is not everyone's favourite character; to be honest I hate her myself. That said, I think her unpopularity means that we miss out on a lot of good fics. So here goes… this takes place at a variety of points in the film; I hope it's clear which is which.

Oh, and just so you know, there are some rather homophobic passages in this fic. I mean absolutely no offense to anyone of an, other than straight, persuasion. It's just pertinent to the character. They are not my personal views.

Now, on with the mayhem…

She said there's ants in the carpet

Dirty little monsters

Eating all the morsels

Picking up the rubbish

They were a daunting sight, when the door was flung wide in front of me. So much colour and light. I was blinded by it all. Then, after the initial shock and confusion faded, the more horrible reality shone decadently through. They were like animals, commanded by their lust for flesh. Their debauched performance was sickening to me. They were no better than a den full of 19th century whores, with their hideous costumes and grotesque, painted faces.

Give her effervescence

She needs a little sparkle

Good morning TV

You're looking so healthy

"You're a sweet sensitive Darling to be so broken up about it." How I wished Mandy wouldn't speak like that. It was so forced, so… unnatural. I felt drained. Each glittering day, I felt more of my soul was being torn away, stolen. I scrubbed my skin until it bled but the infernal sparkling stuff still clung to my abused body. I felt dirty, just to breathe the same air as that sordid collection of freaks. I looked at Mandy through my tears. She didn't know of course why I was crying. I didn't care that her husband was cheating on her. It was just too much for me. I was sent to check that Brian was nearly ready for his photo-shoot that day. I never expected to find him naked in bed with another guy. I had known he was depraved like that, of course, the whole world knew. They took pride in it, flouncing about with their vile feathers and sequins. Each stitch had taken away a little of my self-respect. When I walked in that morning, I nearly screamed. It was disgusting. It made me want to be sick; I couldn't stand the sight of them…

And we all say

Don't want to be alone

We wear the same clothes

Because we feel the same

And kiss with dry lips

When we say goodnight

End of the century... it's nothing special

No. I wasn't, could never be, a part of their gaudy, shameful world. I was on the outside, head pinned gruesomely in place, looking in through a thin divide of stained glass and vulgar jewels. I wanted to run, but I could not. I wanted to scream but layer upon layer of lipstick glued my mouth shut. I wanted to die but I was already in Hell…

Sex on tv

Everybody's at it

And the mind gets dirty

As you get closer to thirty

I woke up with a cold sweat drenching my body. Tears, too, were flooding over my face. Everything I had fought so hard to keep myself free from had invaded my mind. My bitten down fingernails clawed at my face, trying desperately to scrape away the disease that had crawled inside of me. I begged God to let me forget the nightmare I had endured, prayed that he would forgive the twisted happiness the dream had brought me. He had held me in his arms. I had shivered as he ran his hands with polished fingernails over my skin. I had flung my head back, deep in ecstasy as I felt his lips pressed feverishly against my neck. God, forgive me…

You're all made up

And you know that

He's not real. They're not real. You'll open your eyes and the memory will be gone. You will be free. They're not real. He's not real.