Chapter Text
The air smelled of leather, sharp and bitter, mixed with the faint metallic tang of expensive cologne
Cody Carson sat alone at the kitchen counter, the glow of his phone the only thing illuminating his features. Beside him sat a notebook, names scrawled across the pages. Several were crossed out violently, thick red ink slashed again and again, as if the first line hadn't been enough. As if he needed to make sure they stayed gone.
(BZZT.. BZZT)
His face twitched in irritation at the constant buzzing a never ending torrent of
Notifications stacked endlessly mentions, tags, DMs spilling over each other like insects crawling across the screen.
Cody, notice me!" he mimicked, his voice rising to a high-pitched, saccharine falsetto, a grotesque mocking of his fan's desperate pleas. He gestured wildly with his free hand, as if performing for an invisible audience. "Cody, can I get a like on my newest fanart? Cody, you're my entire life!" He dropped the pitch, his tone deepening into a animalistic growl as he slammed the phone back onto the desk,
SHUT UP!!!
The vocalist panted heavily, eyes wild as he gripped the table edge
Cody chuckled low at first, the sound curling into something darker. He leaned back in his chair, rolling his broad shoulders, chains scraping together like teeth.
"God You people are.. fucking exhausting."
They were parasites. Leeches, clinging to him sucking him dry with their insatiable need. Each notification, a tiny bite. Each plea for attention, another thread pulling at his sanity. He saw them as a swarm, a collective consciousness of pathetic yearning, their devotion a suffocating blanket.
You want my attention?" he murmured, voice sweet on the surface, rotten underneath.
A predatory gleam entered the front man's eyes. The regular meet-and-greets, the endless lines of eager faces, they were too public, too.. open This needed to be contained. A secluded space. Limited.
The tour routing map was pulled up, city names stacked neatly one after another like offerings laid at an altar. Dates. Venues. Capacities. He didn't see crowds or screaming fans he saw numbers. Opportunities. A pattern waiting to be completed.
"5 victims per city that's all I need", Cody tapped his thumb against the screen lazily sipping a freshly brewed cup of expresso. The strong aroma of blackened cocoa beans filled the air as He continued to scroll aimlessly watching one by one as the ultamite VIP's ran out. Some were completely gone after just a few minutes He cackled sinisterly as the words sold out bled in red across the screen. "This is gonna be easier than I thought."
The frontman chuckled to himself, the sheer naivety of their fanbase was laughable to him. "Can't believe how fast they signed up. Of course they did. They always do." They think it's a dream. Backstage access..
Cody wore his favorite leather jacket loose over a black tank top, solid muscle clad beneath dark fabric his unbuttoned shirt hanging open like an afterthought. Metallic Chains draped across his chest and hips,. His beard was scruffy but well kept, trimmed short and tapering into a sharp point at his chin almost goatee-like, giving his face a predatory edge. His hair was styled sharp and angular, swooped forward before spiking and curving to the side, frozen in place with expensive hair gel. Blue eyes stared back at him from the mirror, bright, focused, empty.
He adjusted the lapel of his jacket, fingers lingering, admiring the way the chains rested against his chest.
Perfect.
"god cody your a a genius.." Maybe to make it more theatrical I whisper something inspiring in their ear... they'll cry, post about it, say I changed their lives.. "He gasped dramatically, dismissively waving his hand as he rambled on.
He sighed, smile dropping his voice darkened he leaned closer to the mirror, pressing his hand against the foggy glass. )
And I will. Just not how they think.
"I told the guys it was "immersive." A "life-changing experience." Technically, I'm not lying. It is" Five fans per show. Exclusive backstage access..
They'll get to see the show... from our perspective.
A slight pause. He licks his bottom lip slightly, suppressing a smirk. Real once-in-a-lifetime stuff.
We'll charge high, real high. Make it feel sacred. I CALL IT THE ULTAMITE SACRAFICE
his voice boomed across the house, startling his two small dogs.. claws skittering faintly against the floor. Cody immediately crouched down to scratch behind their ears. He quieted down petting them lovingly.
"Hey, hey... it's okay, my little trouble makers ," he cooed, voice sweet, affectionate. "No need to be scared Daddy's just working." Sure, the vocalist killed fans but still loved his furry friends
He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed.
"Anyways, he paused.
Who could resist that.."
Cody shrugged, "The others don't ask questions. Maxx loves the idea of giving fans more engagement with the band. And Zach doesn't even look at the tiers much less update his bio. Yeah.. sorry Zach fake ass friends has been out time for a change buddy."
They trust me—frontman privilege. And the fans? Please. They'd sell their souls for even a sliver of interaction from mwah~ he sneered, gesturing to himself
So I'm just... speeding up the process.
A grin stretched slowly across his face wide, practiced, perfect.
It didn't reach his eyes.