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M.A.Levo. A fresh idol trio striving to aim for their dreams of superstardom and captivating audiences all over the Devildom. There was Mammon, the group’s rapper with the sassiest attitude of them all. There was Asmodeus, the visual of the three, able to hit the highest notes, and usually placed himself as the “leader” of the group. Lastly there was Leviathan, who while not usually dubbed as anything within the group, had a voice that blended everyone together and choreography ideas that impressed even their manager.
And they fought. A lot.
“No no NO!” Asmo screamed, grabbing the remote to the speakers and pausing the music. “Didn’t I tell you already that your arm movements have to match his?! Mammon, you are ruining the image the fans are gonna see!”
Mammon himself growled at the self-elected “leader”. “Oh shaddup! We’ve got over a week before the concert, it’ll get fixed.” Grabbing the remote from his hands, his white-painted fingers were ready to hit the play button and start again. “Besides, it’s one movement, like anyone’s gonna care.”
“I care!!” Snatching the remote back, Asmo glared at his fellow idol. “This move is during my solo, and NO ONE is going to take the focus off of my moment, not even you and your screw ups!”
“Oh please, I thought you’d want a few eyes off of you. Who was the one crying about gaining 500 grams the other day?”
“WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?!”
The battle between the two of them continued to rage on, fire almost emanating from the two of them. At the same time, the member safe from the flames instead felt something different inside him. It wasn’t fire, but something a lot more painful. Levi couldn’t take it, it was growing at an alarming rate. He had to escape.
Looking up, the fight had escalated, with Mammon pulling Asmo’s hair and the visual grabbing the rapper’s bracelets tight. It was his perfect chance to escape. With more insults being thrown, he slipped out of the practice room with nary a sound being heard from the other two.
Leaning against the wall, sliding down it, any noise he could hear from inside slowly went quiet. He didn’t have any earbuds or headphones on, but what was playing in his head was louder than if he had maxed the volume out. They were bouncing in his head, blocking out any rational thought, and it was only a matter of time before they finally came into full focus.
There was nothing about him that made him worthy of becoming an idol. At least that’s what Levi believed.
He put himself against his fellow idols. I don’t have the punches that Mammon can pull. I’m weak in rapping compared to him, and so many demons go crazy over his stage presence. I look disgusting compared to Asmo. I try to hit any notes he does and my voice cracks. Both of them run laps around me in the choreography, I look like an absolute noob!
He criticized his own performance. Asmo was right. Our hand motions are totally off. I just can’t get sharper than what I’ve got. And the singing sucked too. I know I’m not projecting enough, they just don’t say anything about it!
He started fearing the worst. I’m gonna ruin our show. This is so important to them, and I’m gonna make us look like wrecks! Everyone will just know M.A.Levo as two stars and a dead weight, and they’ll call me the worst!
He drew the worst case scenario. Mammon and Asmo are gonna hate me. The manager’s gonna hate me. Everyone will hate me…what was the point of becoming an idol in the first place?!
Levi’s head started to hurt from all the thoughts crowding his mind. He tried to shove them back like he had during rehearsal, but it was no use. It was all he could think about. All he could do was try and hold back the tears that were threatening to escape.
And try he was about to do. “And by the way, if you try and pull that while our outfits are on, I’m gonna smack ya in yer pretty lil’ face!” Mammon was still poking jabs at Asmo.
“Wowww, someone other than me is worried about wrinkles, I’m shocked!” The visual jabbed back, sarcasm practically dripping from his lips.
“Well excuse ME for-” The rapper was about to throw another insult out, but noticed something, or rather someone out of the corner of his eye. “Levi? I wondered why you weren't in there, you slacker.” A metaphorical arrow shot through the shyest member’s chest.
“You should’ve stayed in there,” Asmo chimed in, stretching his wrists. “You could have learned something about defending yourself against this idiot.” Another arrow went through.
Levi didn’t respond directly to either, curling his knees up to his chest. “Just leave me alone…both of you.” His voice started to crack, but he clung to the last strings of his dignity.
As prideful as the two of them were, even they could tell when something was wrong. “Hey…was it something we said?” Asmo tried kneeling down to face Levi, but the latter avoided looking at him.
“Come on man,” Mammon attempted to shake it out of him. “You gonna be like that during the show? You gotta help hype us all up!”
Unfortunately, the prods to talk were the straws that broke the camel’s back. “What’s it matter?!” Levi spat, finally showing his face, red from holding back any outward emotion. “I’m just gonna ruin everything and everyone’s gonna despise me. I should’ve never become an idol in the first place!” Choking out a sob, he immediately curled back up as tight as he can, trying to keep any more in check.
There was silence between the other two. For a moment, they didn’t know what to say. Both of them knew that Levi was more self-conscious compared to themselves, but neither were aware of how deep the insecurity ran. Even with the outburst they still didn’t understand completely.
Even so, they didn’t want to just leave him like this. “Hey man…” Mammon was the first to speak up, finally kneeling down to where the others were. “Don’t say stuff like that. You’ve got just as much reason to be on that stage as any of us.”
“Like what?” Levi fought back, his mind still on the defense. “You’ve got the rapping, Asmo’s got the looks and pipes, what do I have?”
“The talent!” Asmo shouted, cutting him off. “You may not hit the notes I can hit, but it’s so smooth and rich, everyone’s not gonna be able to get enough! And your dancing? Again, not better than me, but still absolutely worthy of being on the same stage!”
“But you were-”
“It’s called constructive criticism. We all get better because of it! Well most of us, anyway.”
“HEY!” Barked the other voice in the room.
“Regardless,” The strawberry blonde rubbed circles into his group member’s back, trying to help him calm down. “You don’t need to say that you don’t belong or any negative talk like that. The fans are going to love you, they’re going to love all of us!”
“For once I agree with Mr. Self-Obsessed.” Instead of rubbing, Mammon gave a soft slap on his back. “Come on, what’s the name of our song, huh?”
“...’Choose Me’?”
“Yeah. We want them to choose. Some are gonna pick the most sensible choice, me, some are gonna want the fashionista…and some are gonna want you. But at the end of the day, if they like us, they’re gonna choose all of us.”
Levi was finally able to pull his head out from the ball he had created. His face was a bit less red, but the tear stains could still be seen if you looked hard enough. “You guys…really think that?”
“Of course we do! We may argue a bit, but we’d be faaaar apart if we couldn’t work together!” Just as quickly as he said it, Asmo pulled out his phone and dialed a number faster than any of them had seen fingers move.
Levi was slightly concerned. “What are you doing?”
“Calling a special someone. Someone who I know is supporting us.” The silence wasn’t very long before the receiver picked up. “Oh Manager~ How you doing?”
The distressed idol soon had his nerves sent into overdrive again, trying to get the one talking on the phone to hang up, but Mammon held him back, covering his mouth in the process. “Come on, man,” he whispered. “Why do you want them to hang up?”
Before Levi could try to muffle out an answer, Asmo had hit one more button on his phone. “You’re on speaker, manager. Now, I want you to tell me exactly what you think. About us, about our concert, about how you think people will see us that day.”
Everyone was silent, and a deep breath came from the cell phone.
“Guys, I say this not as your manager, but as someone who has known you all since M.A.Levo was formed. Everyone is going to love you all. Mammon, you've got the energy to keep any concert running long into the night and anyone who stays for the ride will definitely have the time of their life. Asmo, you’re the prime example of confidence, so many are gonna be drawn to you and scream your name. But…I think there are gonna be a lot of fans who will absolutely love you, Levi. You’ve grown so much since I first met you all. My colleagues doubted me scouting you, but I knew you were a diamond in the rough, and I was going to make you shine. And you are, you really are. You’re an amazing dancer, your vocals are unbelievable, and you’re gonna be a role model for so many in this realm. You all are going to rock this concert, and you’re going to make a fanbase that is gonna have a hard time choosing just one of you. And even if you didn’t, I wouldn’t leave you. I love you all, and I hope you all can count on me”
~*~*~
That monologue was the newest thing that echoed in Levi’s mind. It was there during rehearsals, during staging, and it was still there during the main event. Orange, yellow, and pink penlights were waving all throughout their performance, and some of the fans even had points where they called out or sang along. It wasn’t any of their first live shows, but it was the first with such a large audience.
Their hard work had paid off; there wasn’t a single hitch in their show, and all three of them had their chance to shine in the spotlight. It barely felt like the song had started before it was over just as fast, cheers and applause flooding the arena.
While Mammon and Asmo were quick to thank and talk to the crowd, Levi just stood there in awe. People sang along with him during his verses, there were a significant amount of penlights still lit up orange, he could even hear people still screaming his name. He wasn’t just a dead weight for M.A.Levo, he was a part of it. He was making people happy just from being on that stage. It wasn’t the technical start of his career, but seeing that crowd made it his own personal start in his heart.
A pink-painted nail soon tapped his shoulder. “Oh Levi~ Come on, the fans wanna hear you too!” Getting pushed up to the front, he tried to gather his composure enough to put the mic to his lips.
“T-Thank you…thank you everyone. I know that I may not be what a ‘perfect’ idol is, but I’m glad you all can support me. Ha, I’m glad you can support all of us! Those words of encouragement, the words of love, they may seem small, like they’re not much…but just know this…”
Right before he finished his speech, his eyes darted to three different pairs. The blue pair of Mammon’s. The peach pair of Asmo’s. And all the way in the wings of the arena, the pair belonging to a certain manager waiting with baited breath.
“...you don’t know how much they mean to me.”