Chapter Text
Billy Joe Cobra was an idol. He was a pop sensation and he was loved by thousands of people around the world, and ended up stunning a generation. But, he hadn't always been that way.
Before he had become a famous musician, he was a hopeful, aspiring teenager. His life revolved around music and the social aspect of being a teen-he hated family get togethers, and he hated family reunions like any common teenager would.
Being surrounded by old men and women? Meeting your crazed cousin who has an odd affinity for styling hair and her tool-junky husband? Of course Billy wouldn't enjoy that. Apparently his cousin…distant family member was throwing a whole get together in her and her husband's small home just outside the Beverly Heights area. There really wasn't much family for them to get together with too, so he was stuck with his crazy family members most of the time.
It wasn't like he was going to hang out with his half dead grandparents or anything. Besides, his parents barely paid any attention to him, and they most likely wouldn't at the so-called 'get together'.
Billy had been loathing the event, avoiding all people there and hoping he'd get some time to himself so he could work on his music. He wanted to run off and find himself his own room to hide in while he scrambled down lyrics in the small pocket sized notebook he'd shoved in his jacket.
He'd found a quiet place in what he guessed to be a kid's room. There was a corner full of action figures, and a book shelf with children's books on the shelves. There was a bed to the right and a bed to the left. The bed to the left was covered in monster and zombie plush toys, the blankets decorated in the same horrific manner and the right was covered with pink blankets and more action figures.
Billy knew he could settle down there, seeing as he hadn't seen anyone younger than him since he got there and he doubted he would. Besides, the kids were probably out somewhere anyways.
About five minutes after he'd discovered his paradise and reclined on the zombie decorated bed, the door squeaked as it opened and slowly a small child crept into the room. For being a clumsy kid, he'd managed to sneak up on Billy when he walked up to the bed and threw one of the nearest stuffed animals at him.
Billy jolted out of his relaxation the moment a plush Sully from Monsters Inc. was tossed at his head. Immediately, he sat up, half hiding at the other edge of the bed when he spotted the brunette child staring at him with big round eyes. "What are you doing in my bed?" He asked in a small, accusing tone. He had to be around seven or eight years old.
Instantly the teen smiled slightly and leaned down. "You must be little cousin…uh…?" He trailed off, knowing that he'd never have remembered the kid's name if he heard it earlier in conversation.
"Spencer." The boy finished for him, giving him an annoyed glare. He was obviously upset about his personal space being invaded. That was his bed and no one else was allowed in it.
Billy frowned, scooting forward so he could say hi to the younger child. "Well, little bro, I'm your big bro Billy." He stated, trying to get friendly with the kid. If he could convince Spencer not to tattle on him, then hey, the kid could spend as much time as he wanted with the amazing BJC.
Spencer gave him a speculating look. "Why does your name tag say Baruch Cohen?" He asked, having surprisingly good reading skills for a kid but also pronouncing Billy's name wrong. Billy didn't feel like correcting him at the moment anyway.
"That's my stupid name. I go by Billy Joe Cohen instead, because it sounds better." Billy stated, watching as the kid climbed up onto his bed with minimal help, yet still had some trouble doing so. When the kid finally settled, he looked up at Billy like he was ready for an interrogation.
Spencer pointed at him. "It should be Billy Joe Cobra. Y'know, 'cuz cobras are scarier." He responded, pointing to a stuffed snake toy that he had. It had big menacing eyes and huge scary fake teeth, something that would usually scare a child of Spencer's age but he seemed just fine with it.
Billy smiled at the thought, already liking the way Billy Joe Cobra rolled off the tongue. "Wow, thanks little bro." He thanked Spencer, ruffling his hair. "I'll definitely have to use that when I'm the top musical artist."
By then the kid was smiling. "You're going to be a rock star?" He asked, very intrigued. "I'm gonna be a director." He said, pointing to the cheap camera on his nightstand that looked very beaten up from overuse.
Billy couldn't help but smile at the sight. He really liked this kid-he was too adorable. Spencer had a sophisticated nature about him that made him seem so much more fun than others. It was comical how serious he was, and not in the manner that his dreams were unattainable-it was just amazing to see a kid so determined.
"Wow. That camera sure looks beat up. It looks like you need a new one, bro." Billy said as he picked up the old device. It looked like a hand me down from his father or something and in time it'd be falling apart to nuts and bolts.
Spencer nodded his head in agreement vehemently, obviously sad that his camera was beaten up. "I try to take care of it but my sister keeps messing with it." He spoke in a sad tone, staring at the camera in his new friend's hands.
Billy thought for a moment before smiling. "Well, how about this? When I get big in the music career, I'll send my little broski a new camera ok?" Billy suggested, looking towards the kid beside him like he deserved all the wealth in the world.
Spencer instantly lit up with joy. "Really? Then…then, I'll listen to all your music!" He replied and from then on out they'd made their deal. There was just one little side note.
Spencer reached across his bed to the cobra plush toy and handed it over to Billy. "So you don't forget me." He said, ensuring that Billy would always remember him.
-o-
Billy had hit off his first record deal. He was going to be putting his music out there for the world, and soon the name 'Billy Joe Cobra' would be known worldwide. He tried not to let the excitement and the fame go to his head. And, each night he fell asleep while looking at the cobra plush toy that Spencer had given him.
Eventually he was rolling in the money, and music was all that mattered. All he wanted to do was to be known to people, and get their attention. He wanted to be loved and enjoyed by people, treated like he was their idol.
Soon he grew to forget the plush cobra, and he put it away in a box with his other things from 'home'. He kept that small box of keepsakes with him, but he rarely ever looked inside. He threw himself headfirst into the fire of fame and ignored what meant the most to him.
A few years passed of his stardom and he was in his early twenties. He was writing more and more songs about himself and thinking only of the great life he was living. He was getting drunk each night and living like a star, enjoying the high of being known by millions.
It was when he stumbled across his box of keepsakes, slightly intrigued by its placement on his tour bus that he stopped to look back into the past. He looked back at the person he used to be, flipping through photos and looking at old trinkets. That was when he found the old stuffed cobra, aged slightly from being placed in a box for so long, and he remembered.
He remembered exactly what that little plush snake meant, and the moment he saw it he realized he'd let his little bro down. He'd never kept their end of the deal.
So in an effort to finally right his wrongs, Billy called up his manager and gave him the order to send a camera, a specific one he'd been looking at online for the past hour as he felt guilty about his actions, to the one kid he had failed. He had picked out a greenish-grey colored camera that was a handheld. It was simple but it had very high quality and it fit right in the hand. Billy knew it'd be perfect for Spencer.
His manager didn't ask when Billy said that he needed to send that specific camera to his little cousin (or as Billy preferred to call him, 'bro') Spencer. His manager had taken the address and kept it for safe keeping. He made the connection, or at least the assumption, that this Spencer kid was some of the closest family Billy had.
The night that Billy's manager to let him know the package was being sent from the shipping company the following day, Billy was getting ready to go on stage for a concert. His outfit was a simple one-blue pants that were slightly baggy in the bottoms, ending in a pair of red high top converse. He wore an orange-and-yellow thickly striped shirt and a simple red tie with it. To top it off he wore a brown blazer of sorts, cropped in the torso.
He was styling himself to have a casual look, and hidden in his pocket was the stuffed cobra plush. He wanted to honor Spencer as much as he could, because that kid had helped him to his fame. Even if it was a little bit, Spencer had been part of his inspiration.
Billy had walked out on stage that night, microphone in hand ready to make his amends. He'd been drinking a fair amount as well, trying to make himself feel better for the sudden onset of guilt he still felt for forgetting Spencer and their deal they had made long ago. "Before I pleasure you wonderful fans, there's something I've gotta do." Billy started, walking up to the edge of the stage, holding his guitar in hand.
His feet were practically dragging along the floor as they always were. Billy had never been one to 'pick up his feet', as a mother would describe it. He was proceeding slowly forward, causing the fans to look up at him in interest. They all stared at him from the small gap between the stage and the crowd.
"There's a little bro out there I've gotta apologize to." Billy continued, the weight of the plush toy registering in his pocket. Somewhere at the edge of the crowd, the security men were keeping back a hoard of fans from crossing the barrier. Almost every one of them was occupied with a screaming fangirl (or fanboy).
But Billy just kept ignoring it. He just kept walking forward. "Spencer, I don't know if you're listening but bro, I-" His voice cut off before he could finish his sentence.
His foot had drug too low and one of the wires running across the front of the stage pulled tightly around his ankle. Coupled with his intoxication, Billy didn't have time to think before he dropped over the edge of the heightened stage, twisting and falling backwards, head first into the concrete below.
Fans screamed from around him but his consciousness was gone the moment he connected with the floor. Blood was pouring out of his skull and the security men and paramedics were there in minutes, trying to help the situation. They'd gotten the bleeding to stop mostly but he wasn't waking up.
Billy Joe Cobra went into surgery at the nearest hospital to relieve the pressure on his brain from the internal bleeding and the swelling, but alas-even then he wasn't recovering. He was losing blood too fast and his body was shutting down.
He died on the operating table.
-o-o-o-
Spencer was barely thirteen. He'd been filming movies with his father's old ratty camera and eventually it finally broke for good. He tried reviving it for the umpteenth time but it didn't work. For a week he sat there rewatching his old videos with terrible quality that he'd made from the character.
He didn't remember Billy Joe Cobra's deal with him anymore. He barely even remembered meeting the guy. He just remembered a strange guy in his bedroom that was hiding during the family get together.
It was the day after the news kept spouting out new stories on Billy Joe Cobra's condition. That night he'd been proven clinically dead, having died in the operating room during his surgery. Spencer had read about how Billy was going on about apologies and things he had to say before he fell of the stage but Spencer didn't have too much interest in the story and always stopped reading before he got anywhere with it. He was fed up with seeing Billy Joe Cobra's face everywhere and he didn't know why.
He just didn't like seeing the man flaunting his fame for whatever reason.
He had been sitting at the computer trying to ignore more conspiracy theories on Billy Joe Cobra's death, like whether or not it was a faked death or if someone had plotted to trip him. Meanwhile the authorities were bringing up his blood reports, talking of how intoxicated he was before the fall. It was around that time when his mother flitted into his shared room with his sister and announced that a package had come for him with no name or message with it.
Later, Spencer opened it, because he had been waiting until his parents had left him alone. He pulled the cardboard box open to see the camera he'd been waiting for, if only subconsciously. This was the same handheld camera he'd been wishing to get for quite awhile, as he'd been searching online all that week after his old one broke.
Spencer cherished that camera like no other, yet he couldn't for the life of him figure out who it could have come from. There was no return address to reference.