The interview was a mess.

Levi was sitting on your lap, his arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders scrolling through his phone. He did try to be good for the cameras, but it was obvious—he was pissed. And the mic picked up every thinly veiled word.

“Look at this bitch,” he hissed, leaning over, eyes narrowed with rage as he slid his phone under your nose. “Look.”

You glanced at the screen to see his brother—Belphegor—passed out on stage, napping through an entire concert while the crowd roared. And somehow his sales? Rocketing. As if sleeping on stage was the fucking key to success.

Levi seethed, like the whole damn world was conspiring to make him the loser in his own family.

“I’m working my ass off—“ He tensed when you kissed his head—hoping maybe he’d calmed down—but the tightness in his body did ease a little, he went right back to yelling. “It’s just fucking frustrating!”