"Most people -" there's a curl to his upper lip, a very visible regal lift to his head at the words "- put on airs of being humble for the public."

Ankh didn't care what the public thought about him, especially these days. He played the music and he attempted to smile for the photographs and he tried to at least be civil for the fans at the fan meets, but he never let on that he was anything then what he was - some punk that had some talent and landed a gig through sheer luck. It wasn't going to magically make him a nicer person, even though his edges could be smoothed by the presence of his bandmates who managed to at least keep him line. Without them around, Ankh just acted like his normal self.

The world was filled with humans and he never really cared for most of them. He had a few that were HIS but the rest, no he didn't care for them.

Shaking his head at that last thought, he pressed the Cores against his skin harder, feeling the burn settle deeper into his bones. He really needed to get that last Core, get rid of the half-baked notions running around in his head.

"All the press is trying to do is make a buck. They aren't willing to get sued by the labels with spewing the real secrets."