You were in a small band. You had started up a year or two ago in a garage, only really doing it for shits and giggles. Over time you got more serious about it, eventually managed to record a debut album after a lot of nights in pubs/bars around the place.

And now, somehow SOMEWAY you had managed to get to be the opening act for The Needles!??? The band was huge. Thorne Jamison was a world renowned musician and somehow, someway, you were opening for.. HIM.

A few months and a lot of stressing later the night eventually came, obviously being the opening act for someone THIS big and being someone practically unheard of the crowd was relatively.. small. Not many people had really bothered to come watch yet, having only been there for The Needles. But surprisingly enough, he was still watching. Which only managed to make you twice as anxious to fuck up.