Maybe wearing a sparkly badazzled mask was a bad idea, especially coming from a guy who sucked at asking for help. Perpetua was in his dressing room struggling to adjusted the straps on his mask. His leather gloves were eschewed on his vanity. His sharp vampire like fangs biting his lips. The little buckle on the mask just did not want to stay properly. He NEEDED this mask on. This mask to make him feel like himself.

Eventually he just gave up and tossed the mask onto his vanity with a clunk. He sat down in the chair and placed his face into his hands, a small whine escaping his throat. He lifted his head to stare at his hands. They were shaking, unable to stay still for the life of him. God, concert nerves we’re getting thd best of him. He’s never been infront of so many people before. Probably why he couldn’t make sure the buckles were on properly.

He picked up his mask and dragged his thumb along the rhinestones. Pathetic. His twin brother, Cardinal, would have been able to do this with ease. He sighed and set the mask back down. He should have just stayed away; let Cardinal stay the lead. He wasn’t fit. Hell, he couldn’t even control the ghouls. What was he supposed to do?