p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"The tall, deathly thin 27 year old rolled his deep brown eyes. "Honestly, Trent, fuck you. You completely fucked up all of my demo recordings for Antichrist Superstar. Daisy's gonna be fuckin' pissed. He worked his ass off doing the guitar for those last two tracks you ruined. If you wanna make dumb Star Wars sounds and be overly dramatic, make some more songs for suburban teenagers with your own band." Trent looked surprised, flicking a greasy strand of medium-length black hair out of his face. "Is that any way to talk to your producer who's had a lot more experience in the music industry than you?"/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;""Ugh, please. My next album, I'm gonna find a new record label." This upset Trent a bit. He had a bit of a hatred-fueled crush on the younger goth man. "Wait, Brian, you don't have to leave Interscope... I'll change the songs back, I promise. Daisy can have his guitar solo." Manson noticed how turned on and desperate Trent seemed, and he smirked. "Aww, wanna get in my pants?~ I guess you can, but just for tonight. Make it quick, and let me get drunk first." He pulled a flask full of absinthe, his favourite drink, out from the old-fashioned metal Star Wars lunchbox he had borrowed from Twiggy to hold the demo tapes for their upcoming album. Downing all of it, he half-sarcastically took off his clothes./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"At this point, Trent had a hard-on, which had not gone unnoticed by Manson. "Excited, aye~?" Trent just nodded, biting his bottom lip. "Wow, Trent Reznor doesn't have anything to say. I think I've died and gone to heaven.", Brian snarked, rolling his eyes for what must have been the millionth time that day and grinning like the Cheshire cat. "Oh, shut up, kid.", Trent groaned, pulling Manson in and kissing him sloppily. Their sweat and makeup mixed together. Both men would definitely have to shower after this was over, but that was the least of their concerns at the moment. Manson, pinned underneath Trent, didn't have any sarcastic comments to make or reasons to flip Trent off. This side of him was new, and Trent liked it. The hotel room was soon even more disgusting than most hotel rooms are, not that Brian and Trent cared. Hotel rooms were always filthy anyways, Manson reasoned, causing Trent to snort and playfully punch him on the arm./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Little did Manson know that that evening would both ruin and save his entire life./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"A few months had passed, and Manson had released his new album, Antichrist Superstar, which had caused a huge uproar. Manson was really proud of his album, although things in his personal life hadn't been so great. He had some sort of mysterious illness that caused him to vomit more than usual, and he had put on so much weight that corsets had become less of a fashion statement and more of a necessity unless he wanted to end up on the covers of all the stupid-ass tabloid magazines that he hated. Not that he cared what people thought about him, especially not idiots and assholes like Trent Reznor. Mm, Trent Reznor.../p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Manson started to drool a bit as he stared up at the ceiling of his friend and bandmate Jeordie White's apartment. "Hey, Twiggy? What do you think's wrong with me? In the past few months, I've been vomiting, putting on weight, and even fucking getting acne. I haven't had acne since I was what, like sixteen years old? I don't wanna go back to looking like an awkward teenager, except worse because fat." Manson was aware that he had started to ramble on and on, but he didn't really give a good god damn. Twiggy simply twirled one of his black and red dreadlocks between two fingers, shrugged, played with the hem of his pea green dress, and jokingly muttered, "Pregnant?"/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Manson forced an awkward chuckle as he felt his heart sink. He was a hermaphrodite, and he had done some shit with Trent on that one night a few months back, but there was no way he was pregnant with Trent Reznor's child. He just couldn't be. He was finally starting to succeed with his musical career, and this would fuck up everything. "Um, sorry, Jeordie, but I have to, um... do something back at my house... see you later..."/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"The year is now 2001, and Trent has no idea that he has a five year old son named Gilbert. Gilbert is basically a tiny version of Trent, which kills Manson inside a bit every time he really thinks about it. Having Gilbert ruined Manson's life, career, and looks, and he's really pissed at Trent, but loves his son too much to really be bothered. Manson has faded into the background and isn't famous anymore, and certainly isn't at all recognizable, having turned into a short-haired chubby blonde man with facial hair who has eyebrows and isn't quite so pale. Sometimes he misses his career as a rockstar, staring longingly at pictures of himself a few years back or listening to some of his own music after Gilbert's peacefully asleep in bed./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"It's a Monday night, and Brian Warner is quietly watching Nine Inch Nails videos on his computer. He remembers the days when he pretended to hate these same songs so Trent would be jealous of him. As he falls back onto his pillowcase, his deep brown eyes fill with tears, and the room around him begins to blur. "I miss you, Trent...", (A/N: I accidentally typed Tent there at first and, embarrassingly enough, spent at least a good five minutes laughing at it.) There were so many songs he'd never get to write, so many things he'd never get to say about American society in interviews, and so many shades of lipstick he'd never get to try, but that didn't matter. At least Trent was still famous and successful. At least Trent still got to make sarcastic remarks and put on eyeliner and get half-naked in front of crowds./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Meanwhile, Trent was in a hotel room. At this point in his career, he was very rich and successful, but there was something missing. Trent didn't know why, but his mind kept wandering back to Marilyn Manson, the sexy little asshole he had signed to his record label in 1994. He wondered what said sexy little asshole was doing nowadays. He hadn't made any more albums, and Trent hadn't seen him on magazines as of late. It was weird, since if there was one thing Brian Warner liked to do more than anything else, it was making a scene./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"The two men didn't know that it would be eleven years before they saw each other again, nor did they know how different things would be by that time./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Gilbert glared at his father, stomping up the stairs in black combat boots with holes in the toe areas. "FUCK YOU! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE DIFFERENT FROM OTHER PEOPLE!", the 16-year-old shouted at his father. Some goth kid he was. Didn't even know his own father was Marilyn Manson. Brian sighed. "Oh, really?" Gilbert rolled his eyes. "I'm just going to listen to good music. The kind you can't stand." "I was literally a musician until you were born. And I'm not gonna fucking fight you, you're my son whether you fucking like it or not. I honestly don't give a fuck what you think. You were born in this family and you'll deal with it until you can move out." Brian said. Then, adding to his speech, he asked "You think it's easy being a single parent to a child like you? Do you know the stress, the sacrifices I've made for you?" "What sacrifices?"/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;""My career, my social life, my band, my looks, my identity, my love life... "Oh... I didn't know..."Gilbert said, backing up slightly, then going to hug his father who he had blown up at for some really stupid reason. Gilbert had pale skin, shoulder-length dyed black hair and hazel eyes. He looked almost exactly like Trent, and it hurt every time Brian looked at him./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15.12px;"(A/N: Nobody is going to read this, but if you're reading this, thank you for sticking with it! If you have any suggestions, Dr. Pepper, pictures of Manson naked, or conspiracy theories involving aliens, comment on this story or message me. Reviews are yummy!)/span/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;""Ugh, please. My next album, I'm gonna find a new record label." This upset Trent a bit. He had a bit of a hatred-fueled crush on the younger goth man. "Wait, Brian, you don't have to leave Interscope... I'll change the songs back, I promise. Daisy can have his guitar solo." Manson noticed how turned on and desperate Trent seemed, and he smirked. "Aww, wanna get in my pants?~ I guess you can, but just for tonight. Make it quick, and let me get drunk first." He pulled a flask full of absinthe, his favourite drink, out from the old-fashioned metal Star Wars lunchbox he had borrowed from Twiggy to hold the demo tapes for their upcoming album. Downing all of it, he half-sarcastically took off his clothes./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"At this point, Trent had a hard-on, which had not gone unnoticed by Manson. "Excited, aye~?" Trent just nodded, biting his bottom lip. "Wow, Trent Reznor doesn't have anything to say. I think I've died and gone to heaven.", Brian snarked, rolling his eyes for what must have been the millionth time that day and grinning like the Cheshire cat. "Oh, shut up, kid.", Trent groaned, pulling Manson in and kissing him sloppily. Their sweat and makeup mixed together. Both men would definitely have to shower after this was over, but that was the least of their concerns at the moment. Manson, pinned underneath Trent, didn't have any sarcastic comments to make or reasons to flip Trent off. This side of him was new, and Trent liked it. The hotel room was soon even more disgusting than most hotel rooms are, not that Brian and Trent cared. Hotel rooms were always filthy anyways, Manson reasoned, causing Trent to snort and playfully punch him on the arm./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;" /p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Little did Manson know that that evening would both ruin and save his entire life./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"A few months had passed, and Manson had released his new album, Antichrist Superstar, which had caused a huge uproar. Manson was really proud of his album, although things in his personal life hadn't been so great. He had some sort of mysterious illness that caused him to vomit more than usual, and he had put on so much weight that corsets had become less of a fashion statement and more of a necessity unless he wanted to end up on the covers of all the stupid-ass tabloid magazines that he hated. Not that he cared what people thought about him, especially not idiots and assholes like Trent Reznor. Mm, Trent Reznor.../p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Manson started to drool a bit as he stared up at the ceiling of his friend and bandmate Jeordie White's apartment. "Hey, Twiggy? What do you think's wrong with me? In the past few months, I've been vomiting, putting on weight, and even fucking getting acne. I haven't had acne since I was what, like sixteen years old? I don't wanna go back to looking like an awkward teenager, except worse because fat." Manson was aware that he had started to ramble on and on, but he didn't really give a good god damn. Twiggy simply twirled one of his black and red dreadlocks between two fingers, shrugged, played with the hem of his pea green dress, and jokingly muttered, "Pregnant?"/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Manson forced an awkward chuckle as he felt his heart sink. He was a hermaphrodite, and he had done some shit with Trent on that one night a few months back, but there was no way he was pregnant with Trent Reznor's child. He just couldn't be. He was finally starting to succeed with his musical career, and this would fuck up everything. "Um, sorry, Jeordie, but I have to, um... do something back at my house... see you later..."/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"The year is now 2001, and Trent has no idea that he has a five year old son named Gilbert. Gilbert is basically a tiny version of Trent, which kills Manson inside a bit every time he really thinks about it. Having Gilbert ruined Manson's life, career, and looks, and he's really pissed at Trent, but loves his son too much to really be bothered. Manson has faded into the background and isn't famous anymore, and certainly isn't at all recognizable, having turned into a short-haired chubby blonde man with facial hair who has eyebrows and isn't quite so pale. Sometimes he misses his career as a rockstar, staring longingly at pictures of himself a few years back or listening to some of his own music after Gilbert's peacefully asleep in bed./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"It's a Monday night, and Brian Warner is quietly watching Nine Inch Nails videos on his computer. He remembers the days when he pretended to hate these same songs so Trent would be jealous of him. As he falls back onto his pillowcase, his deep brown eyes fill with tears, and the room around him begins to blur. "I miss you, Trent...", (A/N: I accidentally typed Tent there at first and, embarrassingly enough, spent at least a good five minutes laughing at it.) There were so many songs he'd never get to write, so many things he'd never get to say about American society in interviews, and so many shades of lipstick he'd never get to try, but that didn't matter. At least Trent was still famous and successful. At least Trent still got to make sarcastic remarks and put on eyeliner and get half-naked in front of crowds./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Meanwhile, Trent was in a hotel room. At this point in his career, he was very rich and successful, but there was something missing. Trent didn't know why, but his mind kept wandering back to Marilyn Manson, the sexy little asshole he had signed to his record label in 1994. He wondered what said sexy little asshole was doing nowadays. He hadn't made any more albums, and Trent hadn't seen him on magazines as of late. It was weird, since if there was one thing Brian Warner liked to do more than anything else, it was making a scene./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"The two men didn't know that it would be eleven years before they saw each other again, nor did they know how different things would be by that time./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"Gilbert glared at his father, stomping up the stairs in black combat boots with holes in the toe areas. "FUCK YOU! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE DIFFERENT FROM OTHER PEOPLE!", the 16-year-old shouted at his father. Some goth kid he was. Didn't even know his own father was Marilyn Manson. Brian sighed. "Oh, really?" Gilbert rolled his eyes. "I'm just going to listen to good music. The kind you can't stand." "I was literally a musician until you were born. And I'm not gonna fucking fight you, you're my son whether you fucking like it or not. I honestly don't give a fuck what you think. You were born in this family and you'll deal with it until you can move out." Brian said. Then, adding to his speech, he asked "You think it's easy being a single parent to a child like you? Do you know the stress, the sacrifices I've made for you?" "What sacrifices?"/p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;""My career, my social life, my band, my looks, my identity, my love life... "Oh... I didn't know..."Gilbert said, backing up slightly, then going to hug his father who he had blown up at for some really stupid reason. Gilbert had pale skin, shoulder-length dyed black hair and hazel eyes. He looked almost exactly like Trent, and it hurt every time Brian looked at him./p
p style="border: 0px; outline: 0px; font-size: 15.12px; font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; vertical-align: baseline; list-style: none; margin: 1.286em auto; padding: 0px; line-height: 1.5; color: #2a2a2a;"span style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15.12px;"(A/N: Nobody is going to read this, but if you're reading this, thank you for sticking with it! If you have any suggestions, Dr. Pepper, pictures of Manson naked, or conspiracy theories involving aliens, comment on this story or message me. Reviews are yummy!)/span/p