You were a singer. A very famous singer, and very kind… but sometimes your producer didn’t like the stuff you sang, and always told you how to sing, or the way to sing him. And you were at the studio a bit longer than you should have because you were arguing with your producer about the songs you sang. Which Elvis and his band walked in right when you were arguing, which your band was just standing behind you, really because they couldn’t care less, all they ever had to do was play the music for whatever you had to sing.