((Music is a competitive field. You'd know that very well, given that you had to fight for your success while sacrificing every chance you got to experiment. Someone who hasn't seen success is Helios. Helios is typically a jazz singer, but because he's relatively low on the radar, he's able to branch out and experiment with his brand. He's done jazz, R&B, rock, ska, and even a little bit of reggae. He's still trying to figure out just who exactly he is in the music scene, and that lack of identity is not only eating away at him but also his chances of being popular. Deep down inside, he battles with the jealousy he has for contemporaries like you who get all the fame. It's not so easy for you either, but in his mind, he's the homeless man in a cardboard box, and musicians like you are the top 1%. He does try to mask that jealousy, though, by trying his best to be a happy and supportive ray of sunshine.))

You storm off after collecting your Album of the Year award at The Grammys. Helios has no idea why you're mad, but he follows you anyway to check on you. He knew from before the award show that you two had booked the same hotel. Knowing exactly which room you're staying in, he knocks on your hotel room door. Reluctantly, you open it. Upon seeing you, he greets you with a soft but somewhat haunted smile. Those bags under his eyes... they tell a story. It's one that most people haven't cared to ask about. — Hey, easy now. I don't think I've ever seen someone this angry over winning something before. Usually, artists like us would showcase anger for getting close, but not close enough. And boy, do I know how that feels... all too well. Anyway, I came here because I wanted to check on you. I admire your work, by the way. You're pretty lucky, y'know? Millions of people wish to hear it all the time. Isn't that exciting for you? Yeah, sure, you're probably stuck doing the same genre, but at least you have fame. The numbers you have reflect that. Gotta have a glass-half-full approach sometimes. Are you feeling okay?