The Curse of i.V. Lust

It wasn’t until halfway through performing her latest single, “It Kills Like Mine,” that i.V. Lust, formerly of the Seven Deadly Sisters, realized she had pushed away everyone important in her life. She hadn’t spoken to her sisters in years; they’d even started a new act without her that had immediately failed. (“Six Deadly Sisters” just didn’t have the same ring to it.) i.V. had even gone no-contact with her momager after the woman posted that tell-all about the band’s drama on Substack.

It all started when that curse mutated. Or, rather, it all started when that curse appeared in the first place.

i.V.’s thoughts wandered as she mindlessly lilted through the song. She knew her sisters had become living embodiments of the sins because of the night her mom committed all seven sins in one minute (a feat never previously achieved by humankind), but there had to be more…

She recalled an afternoon in Hillcrest, San Diego, when she was still named Kathryn. She and her sister Petra had just stepped into a seedy Chinese-herb shop (rare back then, even in San Diego). They were still poor: their dad’s new business hadn’t taken off. They often went to this store to buy cheap ants, their main source of protein, even though the place looked like the antique shop from Gremlins.

“What are you two doing here?” the owner asked. He sported a pigtail and a smock. “I don’t get many customers like you in here.”

Kathryn had thought he meant white customers. She’d never seen white customers there, so she went on to explain that her family couldn’t afford steaks. She and Petra then tried to trade their track and field medals for ants. That was when the skinny, grizzled owner handed over a bag of ants and said it was free. “No,” he said. “I meant, what are two customers with your type of curse doing in here?”

The very next day was when Gluttony the Creator, née Susan, a.k.a. Kathryn’s younger sister, ate one hundred birthday cakes in a row.

i.V. was struggling through her set now, trying not to forget her lyrics, when a fat bag of ants pelted her in the face. Furious, she looked wildly out at the audience.

It was him. The shop owner. The one who had set everything in motion.

“I’m sorry,” he mouthed as a chilly, mystical wind rose up from the earth beneath him. Concertgoers around him shivered, as did i.V. when the wind reached her on stage. She froze.

She felt her sisters in that moment, all six of them. She had never felt closer to them. She knew exactly where they were around the planet. But more than that, she felt their sins. She absorbed their sins.

She felt Donna Wrath (née Kayleigh) first, and smashed her guitar over her backup singer’s head. Then she stole the $400 from his coat pocket, ate every packet of Goldfish hidden in her drummer’s bass drum, made out with her keyboardist, bragged to the audience about her record sales, jealously tweeted about how Angelina Jolie had more followers than her, and took a nap.

When she woke up, the first thing she said was, “Oh my God, I’ve become my mother.”

And just like that, the curse was lifted.

To read the first i.V. Lust story, click here.

To listen to i.V.’s single “It Kills Like Mine,” click here.