So you're listening to music and you're like, "I can totally start my own band."
You find a sick guitarist...
...and a frontman who can really wail.
You found a cute drummer, but he had no idea what he was doing.
Then you start practicing...
You finally make it. Your band is HUGE.
Everyone waits on you hand and foot.
But then, all the fame and fortune goes to your head.
You get into some pretty hardcore drugs.
You have a couple of hookups you regret.
You start hanging out with the wrong people.
You start trashing hotel rooms.
Your new experimental album flops.
You and your bandmates clash.
And your career goes downhill.
Your bassist gets angry that you've received an endorsement deal.
Your keyboardist starts a side project.
You've pretty much hit rock bottom.
You let yourself go and try to think of a way to jumpstart your life again.
You beg to get attention through a solo career.
You start doing some soul searching.
Suddenly, you realize how much you miss the band.
And start plans for your reunion tour.
But you couldn't recreate the magic. So, you settle down and have a family.
...and listen to your old albums on repeat.