One day in June – actually, it was one evening, but that’s beside the point – Mum and Dad were acting rather strangely and secretively. Well, secretive, at least. They always had been a bit on the strange side. Anyway, Mum and Dad were both in the computer room and us kids were absolutely no way, under any circumstances allowed in there until they were finished. So with that, Louis and I were banished to the lounge room. We tried not to think about the fact that we were forbidden to enter the office, and tried to concentrate on watching some cooking program. We learnt how to make mushroom curry, mango curry and just about any other curry you could possibly imagine, but we were still none the wiser as to what our parents were doing.
Then, just as we were learning how to make ‘the perfect pappadum’, Mum and Dad came into the room with big smiles on their faces, as they handed us an envelope each. They were addressed to Mum, which was very confusing. But I had no time to contemplate this, as just then, I heard my brother yell, “Oh, awesome! Two tickets to see Brisbane versus Richmond in Melbourne! Sweet!” It was then that I realised that everyone was looking at me expectantly.
“Well, go on then, open yours,” said Mum, breaking the silence. So I took a deep breath, opened the envelope and took out two stiff pieces of paper. I turned them over and let out the most almighty scream.
“Two tickets to see Panic at the Disco in Melbourne! Oh, you’ve got to be joking me!” I looked at my parents who were grinning like loons. It was then that the reality of it hit me. “I’ve got to call someone,” I said and ran as fast as I could to grab the cordless phone and call my best friend, Erin. Needless to say, when I told her the news, she was almost as excited as I was.
“No way!!” she screeched.
“Yes way,” I replied. “The concert’s on the 23rd of August. I’m so excited!” We both had a little moment of oh-my-god’s and I’ll-be-thinking-of-you’s and cor-blimey-brendon-urie-is-so-hot’s before hanging up. Once I’d hung up, I stared at the receiver and let out a huge breath of air that I hadn’t even realised I was holding. “Crikey,” I said to no-one in particular.
The days passed slowly, like a trickling river. Dad and Louis went to the football game, I went to Victoria’s and we all went to the beach. Finally, it was Friday the 22nd, the day before the concert.
I was psycho, to say the least.
“Oh my God, Holly,” said my friend, Taylor, that afternoon. “I’ll be thinking of you, girl!”
“I’ll be thinking of you thinking of me,” I replied, laughing.
“I can’t believe this is actually happening! No, scrap that, I can’t believe that you’re not taking me with you! Give Brendon Urie a kiss for me,” said Jackie, dreamily. We had a little moment before saying goodbye.
“Have a wonderful time, Wendy. See you next week,” said Victoria and we exchanged hugs and I-love-you’s.
When I got home from school, it was time to pack, and so began the painful and laborious process of deciding what to wear. Well, I already knew I was going to wear my jeans, but what else? Finally, I decided on an outfit I was happy with. Then came the rest of the packing, which wasn’t so bad except we could only take carry-on luggage on this flight. I spent hours packing and repacking to try to make everything fit. Gradually, I whittled down my things so that there was even room for shopping. I amaze myself.
That night was probably the slowest night of my entire life. It dragged on… and on… and on. Despite getting countless phone calls from people wishing me good luck and to have fun, I was bored out of my skull, to put it bluntly. Even watching America’s Next Top Model couldn’t occupy me. Oh, okay. I tell a lie. It’s my one guilty pleasure. I think that I would’ve only had two hours sleep that night, tops. Finally, I drifted off into a decent sleep and a wonderful dream…
I woke up with a start. CONCERT DAY! I thought. All of a sudden I was wide awake, even though it was only four in the morning. I ran into my parent’s bedroom and shook Mum awake. “Mum! Mum! Wake up! We need to get ready! It’s Concert Day!” I said in a loud whisper. I didn’t want to wake Dad or Louis up.
“Unggh,” was al I got out of Mum. I translated that as, “Five more minutes…”
“No way! Get UP!” I ripped the sheets off the bed and ran into my room to start getting dressed. Once I was ready, I packed the last-minute essentials and sat them on the kitchen table. I went to see if Mum was ready and, to my horror, she was only just getting out of the shower. I gave her a little talking-to and then did my makeup. Just as I was finishing, Mum came in to the bathroom tell me she was finally ready. Score!
On our way to the airport we had the radio on. Even though it was only about five in the morning, we just had to have some music on. We were so jittery and excited that we couldn’t cope with just silence. The first song we heard? ‘I Write Sins Not Tragedies’ by Panic at the Disco. It was a sign! I sung along at the top of my lungs and Mum joined in on the bits she knew.
“Well, I'd chime in with a ‘haven't you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?! No, it's much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of poise and rationality. I'd chime in ‘haven't you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?!’ No, it's much better to face these kinds of things with a sense of… Oh! Well in fact; well I'll look at it this way, I mean technically our marriage is saved. Well this calls for, a toast so, pour the champagne.”
When we got to the airport butterflies immediately began fluttering about in my stomach. We got there just in time to check in and make our way through to the departure lounge. We’d just got comfortable, Mum with a newspaper and me with my R L Stine book (The Cataluna Chronicles: The Dark Secret) when our flight was called. Mum and I shot each other a nervous/excited look, stood up and made our way to the queue of people waiting to get on the airplane. I handed the attendant my boarding pass as we reached the front. The attendant smiled at me and looked at ripped it in half. “Well, Miss Cooper,” he said, checking the name on the ticket. “Looking forward to your trip in Melbourne?” he grinned, giving me the other half of my pass.
“More than you’ll ever know!” I replied, and stepped out of the airport and onto the concrete steps leading out to the plane.
Mum and I slowly made our way up the cold metal steps up into the plane, struggling with our bags. The flight attendant welcomed us aboard as we gave her our passes. I looked at the name tag she had on. It said, “Welcome to QANTAS. My name is Anita.”
I found my way to my seat. Mum was seated next to me, so I bagsed the window seat. Before we knew it, the plane was starting up and we were watching the attendants showing us the safety procedures.
“Could passengers and crew please prepare for takeoff,” came the pilot’s voice over the P.A.
The flight attendants sat back down and all of a sudden, the plane gave a huge rumble and we were off! My head buzzed. I was psyched! I sat back to relax and wait for us to arrive in Melbourne.
It was a gorgeous day in Melbourne, and the sun was bright and shining like a big, beautiful… bright and shining thing. We’d just dropped off our luggage at our hotel and Mum was in a café and I was left to my own devices. Armed and dangerous with my wallet and lipgloss, I was a girl on a mission. Priorities first, I headed towards the bookshops. After about half an hour, I was walking down the street with my head held high and my arms full of shopping. All of a sudden, I stopped dead in my tracks and dropped my bags.
“It couldn’t be…”
I blinked, rubbed my eyes and lifted my sunglasses. Sure enough, it was. There was Brendon Urie and his band mates all stepping out of a white limo right before my eyes. ‘Okay, girl. Deep breath. Now you are going to walk up there all cool, calm and collected and ask for their autograph. You are not going to behave like the crazy, screaming lunatic you are.’ So, with that, I took a deep breath and marched right up to the band.
“Um, hi. My name’s Holly and I just wanted to let you know that I love your music and I’m coming to the concert tonight.” I gave them what I like to think was an attractive, confident smile, though it was probably the exact opposite.
“Hey, great,” said Ryan Ross. “It’s always nice to have someone let you know that they like your music, and that there are people out there supporting us.”
“Nice shirt,” said Brendon Urie. I looked down. My shirt was white and had a smiley face with ‘The weather today is fine’ on it. Needless to say, I blushed like a lunatic. ‘Brendon Urie liked my shirt. Brendon Urie liked my shirt. Brendon Urie liked my shirt… God, he’s gorgeous… oh shut up,’ I was saying to myself.
Trying to ignore the crazy voices in my head, I stammered, “Errr, th-thanks! You wouldn’t mind signing it, would you?”
“Sure… do you have a pen?” So I rifled around in my handbag until I found the permanent marker I carry with me just in case. This was definitely one of those times I was thankful for having it. So with that, the band, one by one, signed my shirt:
“To Holly – Thanks for supporting our music and wearing cool shirts. Love, Brendon”
“To our grooviest fan, Holly. Love, Ryan”
“To Holly, see you tonight at the concert. We’ll dedicate a song to you! Stay cool, Spencer”
“Holly – see you at nine in the afternoon!! From, Jon”
All of a sudden, all of the band members looked at me, and repeated my name over and over again. “Holly… Holly. Holly!”
“Wha-what?” I groaned, rubbing my eyes.
“Holly! Holly… we’ve got to leave! Get up!” It was Mum. I’d forgotten that we’d gotten the six o’clock flight that morning, meaning we had to get up at four o’clock. Just wonderful. I glanced at the clock. The red numbers on the clock flipped over to 4:28. Sugar! I had to get dressed, do my hair, do my make-up AND get the last-minute things ready in the space of ten minutes, no longer. I swore under my breath and quickly got up. Now, I don’t know whether you’ve ever had to be in such a rush as this, but it’s NOT NICE. But I did it – I don’t know how, but I did it. Just. We left a note on the table for Dad and Louis, grabbed our bags and left. We had already booked in over the internet the day before, so we had enough time to get a chocolate bar, and that was about it!
Anyway, we boarded the flight eventually and everything went well. Mum and I tried to do the general knowledge quiz in the back of the free in-flight magazine.
We failed dismally.
We just had to add twenty points onto our score, convincing ourselves that the awful score was no thanks to it being so early in the morning. Once we’d added on the ‘early morning factor’ we felt pretty good. We had quite a brilliant score. So brilliant, in fact, that it was off the chart.
When we got to Melbourne there was basically nothing open because it was only about seven thirty. Nothing opens until at lest ten. The nerve!! So we went to our hotel (which just so happened to be next to the best chocolate shop in the whole of Melbourne) and gave them our bags to look after. We were due to go back to the hotel at two, so that gave us plenty of time. So we just sat there in a gorgeous French coffee shop and feasted on chocolate croissants and strawberry pies. I could get used to a life like that!
Once things started to open we left the coffee shop to have a look around. I bought a few things, such as a summer dress (red, of course), a bracelet (also red), and a necklace (yep, that was red, too). I also bought several books. After that, we hung around one part of town, as that’s where one of my favourite shops in Melbourne is – ‘The Quick Brown Fox’. Saw so much stuff I wanted but, unfortunately I didn’t have all that much money left at that point, so I settled with a gorgeous red T-Shirt dress.
For coffee we went back to that same café and forced ourselves to have another chocolate croissant.
Then, believe it or not, we went to the same shop again for lunch. I think that they were sick of the sight of us. Oh well. They’ll get over it. We had a toasted salad and chicken focaccia. Yummoh.
Once we’d done another spot of shopping, we headed back to our hotel to just chill out before the concert. I read my books, drank lemonade (it was SO hot that day) and watched the music channel on TV. Mum tried to go to sleep, but I think she failed, as I was loudly singing all these really hot songs, like ‘Thriller’ by Michael Jackson and ‘Changes’ by David Bowie, really loudly. I think I kept everyone else on our floor awake, too! Well, they were counting down the top one thousand songs of all time! You couldn’t expect me to just sit there and do nothing while all these groovy songs were on, could you?
A funny thing happened, though. While Mum was trying to go to sleep and I was singing really badly, we heard an Asian lady coming up our hallway knocking on people’s doors and saying something that we couldn’t understand. When she got closer, we made out what she was saying: “Mini Bar! Mini Bar!” Oh Lord. I stopped singing quickly, let me tell you. She got to us and knocked and shouted the same thing again: “Mini Bar! Mini Bar!” She half-opened the door, all ready to come in, and realised that the lights were off. “Oh. I come a-back tomorrow. You a-sleeping.,” she said, closing the door very quickly. We were so embarrassed! I didn’t exactly want a complete stranger to see me in my pyjamas!
Before the concert we had a shower to refresh, still singing to the awesome songs, but now they were on to Powderfinger and James Brown. We left at about six o’clock, even though the show didn’t start until seven thirty. We wanted to have time, because we were going to walk there and we wanted to get good seats, some where we could see Brendon Urie’s gorgeous face and hear his wonderful voice perfectly.
When we got to the Rod Laver Arena, even though we were about an hour early, the arena was fully PACKED. Mum made me so embarrassed, be cause she was feeling self-conscious, what being older than most of the people there, so she spotted this one woman and said to her, “Gosh, I’m sure glad that I’m not the oldest one here!” The lady just sort of looked at her strangely and walked off.
I was mortified. “Mu-um!” I whispered angrily. “You can’t say THAT! You’re basically implying that she’s older than you!”
“Well, that’s not what I meant!” But then she went bright red, and got rather embarrassed herself.
To entertain ourselves before the concert, we went to the merchandise shop. It was full. To get ANYTHING, to had to use the New York Way and with your elbows fight your way to the front. Anyway, I ended up getting a GROOVY black T-Shirt with purple faces and ‘Panic at the Disco’ written on it and the tour dates for 2008 on the back. I had to brag to everyone back home about the ‘23rd of August – Melbourne’. I rushed to the loos to put it on, and once I’d done that, I looked gorgeous, (if I do say so myself) and also slightly gothic. I had my tight blue jeans on, my red Connies, my new black and purple Panic shirt and my black jacket. (The very same jacket that Mr Hunt thinks is like one a singer would wear at a gig. I like that!) We waited for yonkers, and then finally, finally, the doors opened. Mad rush time. Everyone wanted to get good seats, but we already had seats reserved. We sat down in those awful plastic chairs that flip up every time you sit on them. (And I always forget that they’ve flipped up and I try to sit down again.) Although the seats themselves were very average, we had a brill view of the stage. Perfect.
It took ages for the bands to get ready, but to fill the time, a local band called Black and White did a few songs. They were pretty good, but, of course, nowhere NEAR as good as Panic. It was then, though, that we discovered just how loud it was going to be. You couldn’t her yourself think let alone talk to other people, but that’s the whole experience of concerts. It adds to the hype and psycho-ness of the crowd. And you couldn’t hear my atrocious singing, which was a good thing.
Anyway, then The Academy Is came on stage. Talk about awesomesauce! Everyone went crazy and screamed as loud as they possibly could. They played about five songs, and then it was Cobra Starship’s turn. I had never heard of them before in my whole thirteen-and-six-months-years of living, and apparently everyone else had because they were all singing along to the songs. But oh well - they were absolutely FAB. They played about eight songs, such as ‘The City is at War’, ‘Smile for the Paparazzi’, ‘Guilty Pleasure’ and ‘Kiss My Sass’. Brilliant. During their set, the lead singer said, “Well, I bet a whole load of you in the audience are wandering, ‘who are those sexy guys in the hot white pants?” I’m like, you got it in one, buddy. “We’re COBRA STARSHIP!!!!!!!!!” he yelled into the mike. Hell yes! They played some more songs, and then, just before they finished, the singer got the mike again: “So, are you guys ready for our good friends, Panic at the Disco??” Holy Guacamole! Like they say on the tellie, ‘the crowd went wild!’ Screams, stamping, clapping and whistling was coming from every corner of the stadium. It was velly belly brillopads. I think that I was squealing the loudest, by far!! Cobra Starship walked off stage…
…And Panic at the Disco walked on. If you’ve ever been near a huge, jumbo jet about to take off, then you’ll now how loud that is. Multiply that by around three. That should give you some idea of how spakked-out the crowd was. I was either screaming at the top of my lungs, feeling like they were about to explode, or just standing there, gawping at the fact that there was my favourite band. My favourite band in the whole universe and they were only about thirty metres away from me. They were in the same building as me. And by crikey, golly gosh and cor blimey -Brendon Urie is so gorgeous!!
Screams of, “I love you Brendon!” and “Welcome to Australia!” could be heard as the band launched into their first song, ‘We’re So Starving.’ “Oh, how it’s been so long, we’re so sorry we’ve been gone, we were busy writing songs for you,” naturally, I sang as loudly as I possibly could, and no doubt shattered every piece of glass in the building. Straight afterwards they sang ‘Nine in the Afternoon.” That caused an uproar, as it is one of their biggest hits. Every single person in the audience knew the words, so the song sounded fab with about three thousand people singing backup. “When it’s nine in the afternoon, and your eyes are the size of the moon, and you could ‘cause you can so you do…” Everyone was waving their arms and dancing, including me, probably looking like a total prat and doing both at the same time. Oh well.
After they’d finished singing that song, they talked for a bit. (In my head, of course, I was going stupid and thinking things like, oh my God, Brendon Urie even talks hot!) They basically said, “Thanks for welcoming us to Australia and for coming to our concert, it’s awesome to see you guys. We’re going to be here for a few hours, and we hope you enjoy the show.” The crown spazzed out for a few moments then calmed down slightly (only very slightly) for some more songs.
Panic played about five songs including ‘Nails for Breakfast, Tacks for Snacks,’ ‘Camisado,’ and ‘Mad as Rabbits.’ Then they played ‘Time to Dance’, but with a condition. Every time they got to the two words ‘shotgun wedding’ they would sing “shotgun” and we had to scream “WEDDING!!!!” at the top of our lungs and put our hands above our heads in a ‘W’ shape. ‘Twas extra groovy. It also looked great because every time everyone shouted “wedding!” these huge lights would flash twice. “Give me envy, give me malice, give me your attention! Give me envy, give me malice, saying, give me a break! When I say shotgun and you say…”
“WEDDING!!!!” (Flash, flash)
“Shotgun…”
”WEDDING!!!!” (Flash, flash)
When they stopped playing, Brendon said “Yesterday we played in Sydney. When we played this song, the crowd was so crazy the fire brigade got called in. We wanna see if you can beat that. We’ve warned some people, so go wild, guys!” And with that, they started playing the first riffs for… ’I Write Sins Not Tragedies.’ If you thought that it was loud for ‘Nine in the Afternoon’, then it was absolutely deafening now. Everyone was singing and screaming, stomping and clapping, dancing and laughing. It was awesomesauce.
Once they’d finished playing, they congratulated us because we made more noise than Sydney! Then Brendon, or Ryan, said something about Las Vegas. I can’t remember what, exactly, but something like, “Yeah, Vegas is cool. I like Vegas.” I was hyped up and psycho, so I screamed at the top of my lungs, “Tassie’s better!!!” I don’t know whether they heard me or not, but I certainly got some strange looks from people in the audience. I felt like saying, “Oh, come on! Live a little!” but, of course, I didn’t. Partly because I didn’t want to ruin the evening, and partly because they couldn’t have heard me anyway, as the band were now starting to play some more songs. They played ‘From a Mountain in the Middle of the Cabins’ and ‘She’s a Handsome Woman’ from their new album, plus ‘But it’s Better if You Do’ and ‘Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off’ from their first. When ‘Lying is the Most Fun…’ came on people got excited. This song is random, makes no sense at all and is fab to dance and sing really loudly (and awfully) to: “Now I guess we’re back to us, so cameraman, swing the focus, in case I lost my train of thought, where was it that we last left off? Let’s pick up, pick up.” That was when I realised the really gorgeous guy next to me. I was in an aisle seat and he was in the aisle seat in the row next to me. Hey was maybe…15?? He was very groovy-looking. He was cool. He was confident. He was…taken. I saw his girlfriend walk down the steps and he got up to greet her and he gave her a kiss. Damn! Now I’ll just have to dream about Brendon Urie again…what a shame… I couldn’t think about it for long, though, because Panic started playing a different song. At first I didn’t know what was going on because it wasn’t Brendon Urie singing. I was thinking, oh my God, don’t tell me that the band has finished playing while I’ve been staring at this guy… but no, they were playing ‘Behind the Sea,’ and it was sung by Ryan Ross. Phew! “A daydream spills from my corked head and breaks free of my wooden neck. Left to nod over sleeping waves like bobbing bait for bathing cod.” It’s a really sweet song and one of my favourites.
All of a sudden, once the song was over, they just said, “Okay, well, that’s all we have time for tonight. I hope you enjoyed yourselves. Thankyou, Australia!” The crowd was in shock for a minute, as it was very unexpected, and there was a second of eerie silence. The band was packing up and leaving when the crowd finally understood what was happening, and they weren’t very happy! The band disappeared off stage and one guy down the front (I think maybe he had a bit to drink beforehand, but we won’t go there…) started a chant, and soon everyone was joining in.
“Panic! Panic! Panic! Panic!”
Next thing you know, Brendon Urie was on the stage…doing a solo. I think I must’ve almost fainted, as it was just him and the guitar, singing ‘Do You Know What I’m Seeing?’ His voice was brilliant by itself, just with the guitar: “Clouds are marching along, singing a song, just like they do. Oh, if the clouds were singing a song, I’d sing along, wouldn’t you too?” After that, he said, “Well, guys, thanks for sticking around. Just because we love you, we’ll play some more songs for you.” More screaming and shrieking came from the audience as the band ran back on stage. They played a few things, and then stopped again to talk.
“This is going to be our last song of the night. It’s a song that goes by the name of ‘Northern Downpour.’ –” he had to stop while the crown spakked out “—but a little later on in the song, we’re going to get you to sing the rest of the song for us. For those of you who don’t know the words, we’ll put the lyrics up on the screen. See if you can do it!” and so they started playing, and a few people were singing along, but the rest, I guess, were saving their voices for the grand finale. I was one of the ones singing, naturally. “Then she said she can’t believe. Genius only comes along in storms of fabled foreign tongues. Tripping eyes and flooded lungs, northern downpour sends its love.” Right near the end, words flashed up on the screen, the band stopped singing, and the audience took over: “Hey moon, please forget to fall down, hey moon, don’t you go down. You are at the top of my lungs, drawn to the ones who never yawn.” I sounded really cool with everyone singing the words. It was cool, but it was also awful. Awful because I knew that after this song, the night was over, and we’d all be going home.
The band stopped playing and Brendon said, “Right, guys. We really are going this time! It’s been awesome having you here and thanks for sticking around for more songs. We love you Australia!” Once the band had said their final thankyou’s and goodbye’s and walked off stage people started to leave. A few people tried to start a chant again but most of the people knew that it wouldn’t work. The concert was over.
Mum and I were going to get a taxi back to the hotel but it was such a nice night so we decided to walk. As we stepped out into the cool, crisp air of the night, I saw something MEGA.
It was Panic at the Disco’s very own private limousine.
I was thinking to myself, ‘couldn’t I just hop in the back or something? Then when they drove off I’d sort of pop up and say “Howdy!” Then Brendon will realise that I am The One and we’ll get married…’ My fantasies stopped when Mum said something. It was then that we realised we couldn’t hear a thing. I was aware of Mum talking but I couldn’t hear what she was saying.
“WHAT???” I said loudly. (Well, I couldn’t tell it was loud, but I knew it was as people turned and looked at me as if I’d grown an extra head or something.) Mum just shook her head and gestured with her hands the way we were to walk. It took a while, but eventually our hearing started to improve. We still had to speak loudly, but we could at least hear each other. We walked along and chatted about how absolutely mega-ly groovy that concert was. We passed some places having parties with people standing out on balconies and, me being me and still psyched, shouted, “Play us some Panic!!” They looked at me funnily as well. I wonder why. They probably thought I was on drugs or something.
When we got back to the hotel we put on that hot-as music station that we were listening to before, (for the record, now it was playing ‘The Midnight Hour’ by Wilson Pickett. Hell yes! The countdown was up to about seven hundred and something) and we got ready for bed. It wasn’t too late, only about 11:30pm.
I slept like a log.
We had to get up early that morning, as well, which wasn’t nice (again) but it had to be done. My throat and legs were killing me. At least I hadn’t lost my voice, like I thought I would. I got dressed and Mum and I went downstairs for the hotel brekkie of powdered scrambled eggs (don’t ask) and honeydew melon. We waited outside for our taxi to take us to the airport. It felt like a great morning and when we eventually got to the airport we gave the cabbie a tip because he was fab and funny. At the airport we had time to spare so we did a bit more shopping. I bought the Cobra Starship album. I couldn’t find The Academy Is, unfortunately. Actually, it was probably just as well as I only had about thirty dollars left, having started off with well over a hundred. I scare myself. Thank God that the flight wasn’t delayed, so we jetsetters got on the plane safe and sound and set off for good old Mole Creek, Tasmania.
As absolutely groovimafied as Melbourne is, it was so nice to be back home and be able to go straight to bed! We wearily told everyone of our trip and looked at some photos of the concert. We also had some funky videos, but they were spoiled as you could hear me singing… One picture we had was of nothing other than Brendon Urie’s solo. That is a treasured photo, let me tell you. I phoned a few people like Erin and Victoria to let them know that we arrived safely and to tell them about how everything went. And then I crashed. Ahh…bed…
At school on Monday I had so much fun bragging to everyone else about the awesome show. It was fabiola to be back in Mole Hole.
The next day the concert withdrawals started. It was then I discovered that when you’ve been to one concert, you are hooked for life. It is addictive. Every time you hear the word ‘concert’ your stomach does a flip-flop. Every time you simply hear a song you automatically think, ‘I wonder how that would sound in concert.’ Every time you see a concert advertised, you chuck a hissy fit if you can’t go. I think that the people selling the tickets should warn you of that. It is a severe condition and must be treated accordingly.
I pay no responsibility for the resurfacing of any concert withdrawal symptoms. You must understand that you have read this at you own risk.