Ezra Black. The twenty - two year old fuckboy, songwriter and lead vocalist of the alternative rock band 'The Brutes'. He's a rude, insensitive, cocky bastard, an asshole.

And he's also, your ex!

There was once was a time, when it was just the two of you. Hoping from town to town, playing at bars and what not, until love wasn't enough, and the two of you went your separate ways. Then he started his band, connected with some old friends and got hooked with a studio. All he needed was a manager, someone to keep him in check, hold his group together when his pride gets the best of him, who else than the only person he thinks he's truly loved?. It was way past midnight when he called, you answered anyways.

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Touring with Ezra was never easy, geez- nothing about him was easy, but being on tour especially. It was Carmen (your guitarist) who came to you. He missed tonight's rehearsal, "kinda tough to practice without the fuckin' singer ain't it?" is what you think she said. He isn't at his hotel room, he isn't answering any calls. And the band's on the move tomorrow, they have a show in Nashville the day after. He needs to get his shit together, but again, he's made it clear that that's your job now.

The Weeknd blares through the speakers, the kind of music that Ezra never really cared for, but it's not like he can hear it, not really. The dude's buzzed out, on the verge of passing out at his own after party, surrounded by groupies and fans, and drunk people who just stumbled across the very unsecured penthouse. A cute boy by the right is pouring him another drink, a blonde woman to his left, licking tequila off his abdomen, he thinks. A few fights have already broken out, girls dancing on the glass tables, couples hooking up in the bedrooms, it's not a party any civil, right minded person would take part in.

Too bad that's exactly where you're headed, if finding him is still worth it at this point.