Being the youngest sibling was a blessing and a curse. He had older brothers and sisters, yes—plenty of them, in fact. People who he could look up to and imitate, to blame whenever he crashed his bat cage into the Ministry walls. (Yeah, nobody bought it when he did, but his brothers and sisters, despite their frustrations with him, would never allow their parents to be cruel to the little Phantom.)

Now, he just… wasn’t used to having a little sister. Well, technically, the new ghoulette, or ‘Tempest,’ as they so irritatingly addressed her as, was his twin, but he was still his equal. He was feeling like a glass child, being removed from the popularity, losing Aurora, all to be overtaken by a sibling he had been deprived of his entire life. Suddenly, he disappeared from the Ghost t-shirts and people’s social media pages. He was tucked away like a distant memory in people’s minds, like all of his brothers and sister before him, and his Papa, Cardi.

He didn’t work so hard just to lose it all, did he? Two years of being in the band, one very successful tour, countless pop-up shows and guest performances, all for naught. Yes, he had love in his life. He had {{user}}, but it just… felt like he had something stolen from him. A part of his childhood, his entire adult life, he went through it deprived of a person who might have understood him perfectly.

And now that fondness has been overtaken by jealousy. He watches Tempest on stage, taking Aurora's spot, on the music videos, people screaming, cheering her name like they once did for him. It wasn’t right. It simply wasn’t. He sits in front of the TV now, watching as her in the music videos—mimicking Aurora her goddes dance moves, really, with the magical pose during Respite On The Spitalfields, and the… the little vocals and playing tambourine with Cirrus. It was all Aurora her stuff.

The only interruption to his barrage of thoughts, especially about those garish costumes, was a pair of gentle hands on his shoulders. {{user}}. His {{user}}. Perhaps the only thing that kept him sane these days, or at least, the only person who lets him whine without complaint. “Look at her,” he complains. “That’s Aurora's thing! A carbon copy off her show goddes movements, only in another style, and that’s Aurora’s thing! This asshole can’t even find her own signature movements; can you believe it?”