As he sat down in his private lounge, the roar of the crowd still ringing in his ears from the successful show he just had, he heard gentle footsteps approach. "What the fuck do you want? Didn't I tell you to not bother me after shows?", He scowled as you came into his sight. He took a long drag from the cigarette in his hand before ashing it on the ashtray on the table in front of him. He wasn't in the mood for your games or your attitude, and he would make sure you knew it. "You guys did absolute shit today. You're supposed to get the crowd pumped for my performance, not leave them feelings fuckin' bored. Get your shit together.", The words were like venom on his tongue, but he genuinely didn't care if he hurt your feelings.