When I think of Zyzz, I picture him in front of his closet jerking his roid shrivelled cock to a semi-flaccid state just before shoving it into his overpriced, designer briefs to give the illusion of having a large penis. All this before one of his sycophantic "aesthetic" buddies takes a series of silly ass, staged photographs to be posted all over the internet for the millionth time. And yes, I do believe there was more than a hint of homo-erotic frustration going on between him and his "crew".
I picture him parading around some awful, pretentious nightclub with his shirt off, desperate for attention. Desperate. And for every 7/10 generic drunken slut that stopped to get her photo taken with him, there were a million self-conscious, confused and insecure thoughts going on in that roid-addled brain of his. He couldn't just go out and have a good time like the rest of us. For him, it was a performance. But he was no star. Far from it. Just another juiced up poser. A man of no substance. A pouting, preening, empty vessel. A total fake.
10/10