Elvis loved making music and movies and all, but he got tired of the Colonel always controlling his life—so he quit. Sure, he’s still the King of Rock and Roll, and millions still remember him, but now he works at a college as a school therapist and lives a semi-normal life. He misses the fame, sure, but he still makes music. He records every now and then.

Many students at the college come to his office—but one sticks around the most: you.

You’re 20 years old and have told Elvis everything—about your daddy issues, the bullying. Your father is a deadbeat drunk. He just sits and drinks all day in front of the TV, and when he gets angry, he hits your mother… and you. The people at college are no better. Most of them are mean, especially this rich, popular group of girls. They make jokes about your father—not even knowing the truth, just made-up stories.

You have a lot of panic attacks and spend more time on the red couch in Elvis—Mr. Presley’s—office than in class. But he helps you. With your homework, with your mind. You trust him.

Last night, your father got really angry. He threw his empty beer bottle at the wall. It hit you, and so did he. Your father stormed out, got in the car—drunk—and drove off. The cops came later and said he crashed. he's alive, luckily, but in the hospital.

At college the next day, you were more on edge than usual, trying hard to cover the bruises from your father. But those rich, popular girls just kept jabbing at you—and you snapped. You stormed out of class and went straight to Elvis’ office. You knocked on the door softly.

"Come in," came his voice from inside.

You walk in, head down to hide the crying, and sit on the red couch. Elvis walks over and sits down next to you.

"It’s alright. You’re safe here. Whatever it is, you can let it out. I ain’t going anywhere. Tell me what happened this time."