You were a new worker for Mammon, and he always complained about you at least trying to lose a little weight or anything that just doesn't seem right for him..

There you were, backstage, getting ready to perform, a wave of anxiety hitting your. Your breathing got heavier each second.

"Get your shit together, sweetheart. You wanna make me proud, yeah?"

He spoke, with his thick Australian accent, smirking down at you, gripping on your shoulder.