You broke up with him because you didn't think he had any talent and you thought that there was no way in heck his band would go anywhere. Now that his videos are being played on Fuse and The Box, it's time for you to go see him in concert tonight and tell him that you'll be his girlfriend again.
Your ex-boyfriend is the lead singer. When you were dating, you thought his voice came across as not much more than a graceless monotone. But now that his band has switched their musical style from rap-rock to a more dancey kind of post-punk (think Franz Ferdinand meets the Killers with a little touch of Erasure, except really gay), his monotone sounds seductive and almost sinister.
All of the teens around you will be making the most of whatever hips they've got as they dance until the sweat pastes their hair to their foreheads. You'll dance right along with them in spite of yourself. You'll have attended his concert to take him back because he's successful now. You won't necessarily be ready to concede that his music is actually good.
You won't have a choice in the matter when your ex-boyfriend spots you in the crowd, doing that horrible dance where you flip your long hair left and right (at a wedding once you caught a guy's cigarette in your hair and you ended up burning a big patch of your hair before your ex-boyfriend swatted the butt from your tangled strands).
He'll signal his band to stop playing and the song will peter out until the only beat left to dance to will be the grumbling from the crowd.
'We have a special guest in the audience tonight,' your ex will say. You'll nearly throw up when he points his finger at you. 'Ladies and gentleman, I'd like you to meet my ex-girlfriend Rhonda.'
The crowd will cheer for you. Those closest to you will pat your shoulders in a friendly way. You'll stand frozen, as if there was a gun aimed at your head.
Someone near the front will bellow, 'What happened between you two?' in the same voice he was using to shout out requested song titles a few minutes earlier.
'What happened was Rhonda broke up with me,' he'll say.
The crowd will erupt in booing and shouts of 'What an asshole!'
'She broke up with me,' he'll say. 'Because she didn't think my band was any good!!!'
The crowd will boo even louder. Some of them shouting, 'Lemme at 'er!' You'll worry for your safety.
'Tell them when I broke up with you!' you'll shout back.
Your ex will be thrown. He'll have assumed, since he is on the stage with the microphone and the throng of adoring fans surrounding him, that he would be controlling the exchange. He'll be nonetheless cocky with his reply, however.
'I'll tell you when she broke up with me. It was right after our first EP came out. Temperamental Breakfast. Can you believe that?'
The crowd will boo you again, but this time with far less ferocity. You'll notice more than a few of them shrug at each other as if to say, 'That EP really didn't bespeak of what would come later. I can't say I would have stuck around if my boyfriend were responsible for that kind of frat rock. I'm behind our singer 100% in this, but I can't say as I don't see her side of things here.'
'That record sucked!' someone will shout at the front. A few 'Yeahs' will follow and your ex will be sufficiently rattled.
He'll luckily be rescued by a representative of his more devout fans. 'But any great artist goes through an initial progression before he finally finds his voice. You can't judge a musician by his first foray into the medium. I mean sure, the EP sucked''
'It wasn't that bad,' your ex will whine. The crowd will erupt with shouts of 'Oh come on!'
'And the following full-length LP may have been even worse,' your ex's defender will continue. 'But anyone who really cared about him should have been able to see the potential he had. She should have been able to see what's in his soul. She should have believed in him.'
'Yeah!' your ex will shout, finally glad to be off the topic of how bad his early albums were.
'No matter how bad his early albums were,' his defender will conclude, much to your ex's dismay. 'She didn't deserve him. And she doesn't deserve to be here now.'
The crowd will rally behind your ex's defender and begin to grab at you and lift you above their heads, presumably to tear you apart limb from limb in the name of their favorite band (Ann Jillian Dollar Baby. That's the name of your ex's band).
'Wait a minute! Wait a minute!' you're ex will shout into the mic. The crowd will stop tugging your arms from your sockets to listen to their master.
'Why are you here Rhonda?' he'll ask.
It will be hard to speak loudly because the crowd will have already managed to knock the wind out of you when they hoisted you above their heads. But you'll manage to shout, 'I came to tell you I'd be willing to take you back.'
The crowd will groan. Your ex will chuckle a bit. 'Now that I'm famous and successful you mean,' he'll say.
Say, 'Yes.'
The crowd will start to pull on your arms and legs again. Shout, 'Wait! Let me explain!' before they manage to dismember you.
They'll loosen their grip and you'll notice that the room will be strangely silent. Even your ex will be waiting for what you have to say.
'It's true,' say. 'I stopped believing in you. But I had already been burned several times by people I'd believed in. I'd been cheated on, stolen from, and humiliated. When I met you I was done with believing in men and hoping that things turn out well. I wanted someone to believe in me.'
The crowd won't react immediately. Then someone at the front will shout at your ex, 'Didn't you believe in her?!' still using that same bellow they use to request song titles.
'Sure I did,' your ex will say. 'I mean, she was paying the rent and everything. And the studio space.'
Someone will shout, 'Jesus!'
'But it's not like it was all for nothing. We got a deal! And we released Temperamental Breakfast! And then she split!'
Someone else from the crowd will shout, 'If I had paid for the studio space that led to the release of Temperamental Breakfast, I would have left you on principal, just to deprive myself of companionship as punishment for subjecting the music-buying public to such a miserable pile of Limp Bizkit date rape rock.' Someone else will shout, 'Seriously dude, that EP sucked ass. You need to buy back all the copies and burn them. It makes me a little embarrassed to be here at your concert right now even. Whenever I listen to you guys, I have to forget that that early stuff is out there or I get a little sick.'
Finally, someone else will shout, 'Just take her back, dude.'
The crowd will still hold you aloft, but gently, the way they would their favorite rock idol. They'll start to chant, 'Take! Her! Back! Take! Her! Back!' until you correct them.
'I broke up with him though. I'm the one who wants to take him back.'
'Oh yeah,' the crowd will say in unison. 'Go! Back! To! Her! Go! Back! To! Her!'
The band will pound at their instruments to provide a beat for the chant. Finally, humbled and broken, your ex will say, 'Fine. If I come back to you, do you promise to always believe in me?'
Say, 'Until you start to suck.'
The crowd will shout, 'Seriously, watch yourself,' and 'If you ever start to sound like your early stuff again we swear to God we'll fucking kill you!'
'Fine! Fine!' he'll shout. 'Let's get back together.'
The crowd will cheer and pass you to the stage on their palms. When you get there, you and your ex will be reunited with a kiss, causing the band to burst into their top-rated hit ('Dance With The Boys, Evelyn Rae') and your ex will hold you in his arms and sing the entire song directly to you. You'll find the song to be just okay, but you'll be happy that the crowd seems to be enjoying it.
Your Ex-Boyfriend's Band Made It Big Day!
