Ever try to dig up a bunch of interesting trivia on somebody who'd rather submit to a proctology exam than talk to the press? Trust us, it ain't easy. That didn't stop us from doing our best for the Weeknd (that’s not a typo—it’s how his stage name is spelled), who over the past couple of years has usurped the Barenaked Ladies and Tim Hortons as the biggest thing ever to come out of Scarborough, Ontario. Working last year's chart-topping multi-platinum smash Starboy, the Weeknd (that’s not a typo—it’s how his stage name is spelled) plays Rogers Arena tonight as part of his Starboy: Legend of the Fall 2017 World Tour. 

MORE THAN ABEL.  For a man who makes his living standing on a stage in front of tens of thousands of people, the Weeknd (that’s not a typo—it’s how his stage name is spelled) is notoriously shy. Despite gathering a serious online buzz from 2010 onwards, it took him three years to muster up the courage to give an interview to the press. The honour went to Complex magazine, where the singer revealed that his air of mystery stemmed from the fact that he “felt like [he] had nothing to say”, and was the “most boring person to talk to”. As well as hating on his conversation skills, the performer, born Abel Tesfaye, was equally insecure about his looks—an apprehension we hope he’s conquered, given his recent contract as the new face of H&M after the departure of Adoninan god David Beckham. “I was very camera shy,” he told Complex. “People like hot girls, so I put my music to hot girls and it became a trend. The whole ‘enigmatic artist’ thing, I just ran with it. No one could find pictures of me.” Now the focus of paparazzi scrums, the Weeknd (that’s not a typo—it’s how his stage name is spelled) still wants to hide his identity, last year shaving off his bizarre, topiaried hair-sculpture to regain anonymity. Able to hide under a cap for the first time in years that day, he “felt a single tear come down [his] cheek”, as he told the Guardian.

MOVIE STARBOY.  The Weeknd’s (that’s not a typo—it’s how his stage name is spelled) crippling loneliness as a child led him to become a major film buff. Brought up by his grandmother and mom—the latter of which, as the sole breadwinner, was barely around—the star was raised in front of a screen. “I didn’t have a father figure in the house,” he told GQ. “No boys around. Just me and my mom. I had to learn everything from the TV.” The Internet was a saving grace for the bored teenager. Streaming films online and downloading movie scripts instead of doing his homework, the Weeknd (that’s not a typo—it’s how his stage name is spelled) devoured dark, psychologically disturbing films like The Machinist and Dead Ringers. Dabbling in writing his own scripts for short films, he soon became lost in creating strange, dark fantasy worlds—one of his favourite collections of movies is the early works of David Cronenberg—and later transferred those skills into his songwriting.

TRIAL BY FIRE.  Some artists—Mick Jagger, Gwen Stefani, and Bono—seem like they were born to perform, their charisma evident right from the moment they first took to the stage. The Weeknd (that’s not a typo—it’s how his stage name is spelled) is not one of them. He blew up so quickly with his early YouTube posts that he was invited to the 2012 edition of Coachella before he’d ever done a live show in the U.S. Give the man credit for realizing that he was anything but magnetic when he got in front of a mega-crowd. “Coachella was the first show I did in the States, and I hated my performance,” he told Rolling Stone. “I was scared shitless. I got offstage and thought I did pretty good, then I watched the tape, and it was a nightmare. I saw all the comments, and I wanted to kill myself. I remember telling my agent, ‘You need to book me as many shows as possible. That guy onstage is not a star. That’s not a legend.’”

GOOD FOR HIM.  Although his entire song catalogue reads like the drug-fuelled confessions of a man with a chronic inability to keep his pants zipped whenever a stripper enters the room, the Weeknd (that’s not a typo—it’s how his stage name is spelled) has earned some serious boyfriend points in his relationship with current flame Selena Gomez. Not only is Gomez afflicted with a weakness for multiplatinum-selling Canadian pop singers (hello, Justin Bieber, and uh, goodbye), she also has lupus, which necessitated a kidney transplant this past summer. The Weeknd (that’s not a typo—it’s how his stage name is spelled), who has been dating Gomez since at least January, scheduled his tour dates around his gal pal’s surgery so he could spend time at her bedside while she recuperated. All together now: “Aaaaaawwwwww…”

CAN YOU SAY JACKPOT?  Sometimes it pays to roll the dice. The Weeknd (that’s not a typo—it’s how his stage name is spelled) certainly survived some lean years. After moving out he shared a shit Victorian apartment with friends in an even shittier neighbourhood (Toronto’s pre-gentrification Parkdale), getting along by shoplifting food from the local supermarket. Eventually he graduated to folding T-shirts at a Toronto American Apparel outlet where, according to popular legend, he eventually bumped into a certain fellow dropout who used to star on Degrassi: The Next Generation. Today, Forbes pegs the Weeknd’s (that’s not a typo—it’s how his stage name is spelled) worth at more than a staggering $92 million, his wealth generated by a combination of touring advances, record label bidding wars, and streaming royalties on services like Spotify. That’s enabled him to indulge in a passion for stupidly expensive cars, including a McLaren P1, Lamborghini Aventador SV Roadster, and Bentley Mulsanne—all of which he sings about in “Starboy”. Oh, he also had enough pocket change kicking around to buy a house for his mom, presumably enabling her finally stop worrying about the fact her only son never finished high school—where, by the way, the Weeknd (that’s not a typo—it’s how his stage name is spelled)  might have learned to spell "weekend" correctly.