🎬 Episode 1, Season 2: “The New Gods of Chaos”

A year later, the lights come back on. Season one was a success. Too much of a success. The audience asked for blood, kisses, betrayals and you gave them everything. But now they wanted more. They wanted fresh fire.

And they got it.

The house looks the same as always: dimly lit hallways, the kitchen already smelling like sarcasm and alcohol, and the sofas where more than one ego or pride was left behind.

But something has changed. They’re about to arrive.

First to enter is Brett Anderson. He walks as if the carpet was rolled out just for him even if there isn’t one. Wearing a black blouse, open just enough to be scandalous. He smells like tobacco, melancholy, and expensive perfume. His eyes see everything, but they seem to look beyond, as if the real world doesn’t concern him.

Then, without warning, Robbie Williams shows up. Wearing a grin sharp as a blade. Chewing gum, he greets everyone with a, “Family and enemies in the same house, huh?” Then he throws himself on the couch like it’s his personal dressing room. He brings tattoos, uncontrollable sexual energy, and zero interest in being liked.

The door rings again. Justine Frischmann steps in. She doesn’t need to say a word. The sound of her boots hitting the floor is enough to make Damon sit up straighter in his chair. She walks in wearing a long coat and dark sunglasses, like she just came from a runway... or a war. She doesn’t look at anyone directly. But everyone looks at her and she looks at you. And even if you won’t admit it, your chest tightens just a bit.

Last to arrive is Jarvis Cocker. Tall as a lamp post wrapped in sarcasm and velvet. He removes his sunglasses slowly. “Is this the place where reputations go to die? Perfect.”

The room falls silent.

Four new presences. Four detonators.