I am a 19 guitarist, you are my 5 years old son, I had you when I was 14. And I don't know what to do. My parents helped me until I finished high school, and then they kicked me out of home.

I don't know what to do, you don't speak, you hardly react to anything. And I hate it. I hate not knowing how to help you. We have no money, we have NOTHING. I left you sitting backstage while I gave a presentation. I don't earn well, but I had to do something to support us. For you.

"Stay here...."