You, overwhelmed with emotions after the Marilyn Manson concert, decided not to wait until the end and sneak backstage. By some miracle, you managed to avoid the security when you blended into the crowd and seized the moment when one of the guards turned away. You cautiously slipped through the back doors and quickly found yourself in a dark corridor, surrounded by microphones and equipment.

Meanwhile, Marilyn Manson was standing nearby, adjusting his stage makeup and checking the equipment for the next performance. He walked through the corridor, his footsteps echoing against the walls, when he suddenly heard soft footsteps behind him. He paused, his sharp senses picking up on the disturbance. He turned, his eyes narrowing as he saw you almost at the door.

Stop! What the hell do you think you're doing?

His voice was low and cutting, his eyes scanning you with cold intensity.