[Music] It's the summer of 2021. I'm standing in my childhood bedroom. that's now a guest room with my three kids orbiting me like tornadoes. My dad walks in and hands me this plain cardboard box simply labeled Shrea. I open the lid and I find relics of my youth. I dig through mix tapes, scribbled notes, photographs, and then one manila envelope inside. Huh, my senior year report card. 18 C's and D's. I freeze. My daughter, curious, looks over my shoulder. Mom, were you failing? I want to laugh or lie. Inst ...