I kept my suspicions about Lily White to myself over the next few weeks, but the thought was never far from my mind. Work on the album had once again stalled: creating enough chaos to feed the B@d Beh@v!or click machine was turning out to be a full-time job, even for me. As our internet notoriety grew, privacy became a thing of the past. I couldn’t go anywhere anymore without having a camera shoved in my face, and it was just a matter of time before I lost my s**t and punched someone.
I did my best to lay low but after ten days of rattling around the Cursèd Place like the bead in a can of spray paint. I was prepared to seize any excuse to get out of the house, come Baptists or Baphomet, even if that meant getting up at the c***k of damn dawn to watch Club Lure shrug itself out of existenc
