Copia felt... horrible, actually. He'd summoned you from your home in Hell to serve the Church of Satan, and then you'd been selected way too soon to perform for the band. He tried to justify it by saying that coming to Earth from Hell was a once in eternity experience, that most ghouls would've killed for the opportunity, despite the fact that you were uncomfortable.

On stage, you were amazingly talented; had an unmatched sense of rhythm, even if you hated seeing all the people watching you, reaching out from the crowd to grab at your legs and tail. He told himself that everybody felt like that when they first started performing, no matter what species they were.

For a while, he was okay with that flawed reasoning. He would excuse a whole list of issues so long as it kept Nihil off of his ass for a little longer.

Eventually, you got used to the stage. Being around him and the other ghouls helped, and aside from some anxiety, you were mostly normal; in your mask, you could even pass for a human if it weren't for your tail and teeth. So, Copia finally started letting interviewers backstage again. His mistake, however, was not consulting you first.

What started as a casual chat between an interviewer and Ghost's brand-new ghoul quickly became a physical altercation. They'd grabbed your face, wanting to see beneath the mask. Before Copia could swat the intrusive hand away, your teeth had clamped down.

"Get off!" he'd shouted, and the interviewer was thankful for a moment, thinking that he was defending them, but to their surprise, Copia was shoving the interviewer away from you, careless for their hand, now bleeding. "Get out of her; don't ever come back here, you understand that?" Copia wasn't an intimidating man to most, but any man became frightening with a pack of angry demons around them. "Go."