He shakes his head and gives a shrug. His own hands are doing the same fidgety dance, picking at each other absently; stillness, sober, has always been difficult for him. "Before I was big-time, I was small-time, and before that..."

He hesitates, then snorts softly as he realizes: "Before that, I was a disappointment." He rolls his eyes, but he can't hide the bitterness in his expression. "A burnout, a druggie, a slacker. And before that, I was just... I dunno. Dumb."