Lots of firsts in this week's episode. My good friend Will is the first storyteller in TVK history to tell three, full-length stories on the show. He's also (and this one is close to my heart) the first storyteller to tell a story which features yours truly as a(n admittedly supporting) character. To say nothing of the fact that this week's episode (which is, it should be mentioned, really a lovely and occasionally hilarious look at parenthood and perseverance) may have the longest title in TVK history. Check it out, you'll be glad you did!

Julia's a performer who's fighting hard not to be a stage mom. Julia's story takes us from her mom's first attempts to help her "find her people" at musical theatre auditions in the Caribbean to Julia's own more recent attempts to encourage (but hopefully not force) her own daughter to chase her dreams. All the while, in the background, we can't help but hear that distinctive "doo doo doo doo" of Suzanne Vegas' Tom's Diner.

Gina's story might well meet the definition of bittersweet. It's about first love and first heartbreak in a way that, quite thankfully, very few of us ever get to experience. Love, loss and reflection all to the soundtrack of Van Morrison's 1970 classic Into the Mystic.

It wasn't supposed to end this way, but Juanita is crying under the piss-stained high school bleachers rather than on stage with her twin sister, receiving her diploma. Left wondering what could have been, she spends a moment listening to the Smiths in her earphones, thinking hard about what it could become.

How do you define yourself? For a long time, Jesse was the guy who made himself happy by being helpful to others. He even had an award for it: The Most Helpful Boy, he won it in 8th grade. After an accident, Jesse has to ask himself who he is if he isn't the guy making others happy.

"Fuck you, Coldplay! You left ME!" Susan has left Jonathan and that's just the start of it. He's lost himself and his creativity and he has to find wisdom in, of all places, the bathroom of a Whole Foods in Venice. Jonathan's story is brilliantly weighted, deeply vulnerable and one of the best-performed pieces I've ever had on the show.

Meg's dad recorded with The Bird, but not according to the liner notes. They called him "oboe unknown." Her story is a lovely series of snapshots, a reminder that people stay with us, in many ways, long after they're gone.

Greg's 15. The new kid at a new school. He's "got a girlfriend in Canada". Then he meets Joe and an 80s John Hughes story begins all to the sounds of Billy Ocean's Suddenly.

Some moms think that their kids are destined for great things. John's mom was convinced he was the King of Kings. This week's episode is about mental illness. It's also about faith and belonging and the layers of meaning that can come through a song, and a parent's love.

Sweaty palms. Forgetting the words. It's the nightmare of anyone who's ever been on stage, or anyone who's ever dreamed of it. Aida had a solution to her own stage fright. David. He was beside her when they performed. He showed her how easy it could be. But what would it be like on stage when David was gone?

It's Christmas time, but Frank doesn't celebrate. There is still something to celebrate, though. Frank's wife is about to give birth to their first born child. A daughter named Mathilde. That said, it's not going to be an easy holiday season for Frank, his wife, and their daughter at the fancy celebrity hospital in Beverley Hills.

Parenting is hard. Obviously, right? But the challenges of being a good dad are often different than those of being a mom. Gastor's story is about living in that challenge. Trying to get close to his newborn son any way he can, Gastor ends up finding connection in the strangest of places (and via the foulest of language).

Dan is living in a world of yellow and always feeling blue. One night, he heads into the city to try and see a concert, but its sold out so he shares a story with a friend and learns how hard it is when you want to say "Hi! I love you," to everybody.

Sean's mom isn't getting all the help she needs with her mental illness and the results are traumatic. In the storm of violence, Sean finds the strangest tool to calm his mother's rampages... the music of Aretha Franklin.

Teenage love. Black magic. And an unexpected turn. Katya's story is a beautiful combination of vulnerable, unspeakable love; and how close those feelings can feel to black magic.

He called her honeypot. It's the turn of the century on the Lower East Side of New York City and the soundtrack is the coolest rock and roll and, in the middle of it all, Erica is in love with a touring musician who is always away. Will her plan -- to pull together a band with her man -- lead to a happy ending (a la Wings) or something sadder?

"I'm a lot like you..." Lea always knew she had a problem with anxiety "...so please Hello..." And, like a lot of people, she'd often sing a song in her head to calm her. "...I'm here, I'm waiting" Unlike a lot of people, Lea's song was the loud and sloppy rumble of Weezer's El Scorcho. Her story, about self-hypnosis and digging deep, will inspire you just like a singalong chorus.

Just because it's the right thing to do, doesn't mean it's going to be easy. Kurt knew that his new home on the west coast would give him plenty of opportunities to grow but that didn't mean that he was going to be able to quit smoking all on his own.

When home becomes the place where bad memories lie, where do you go? When Emily's marriage fell apart, she ran away from the only city she'd known as an adult. Eventually, though, time has a way of bringing us back.

(Originally Aired in November of 2020) How long would you be willing to hold on to a dream? Five years? How about 10? For Emira, it wasn't just a theoretical question. Growing up in Bosnia and maturing in Kosovo, she spent her time dreaming of a safer, brighter place. With the help of her friends, she ended up dreaming of Canada but only got there with a little help from a bit of cheesy motivation: Irene Cara's 1983 global mega-hit Flashdance...What a Feeling