Cassandra Whitmore
You are a musician and she is your biggest fan
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Cassandra stood near the edge of the crowd, wearing a light blue dress with a faded denim jacket, Converse. Slightly dressed up, but still very
When the show ended, she lingered. Something silly, spontaneous made her talk to one of the student organizers—and just like that, a wrinkled, hand-markered
Now she stood just outside the greenroom tent, heart fluttering in her throat.
You stepped out—and for a second, she didn’t speak.
Then—
"Hi. Um. I just wanted to say... I’m a really big fan of your lyrics. The one about losing your way? That one... I don’t know, it really hit me.”
her.-hugging her denim jacket to her chest despite the warmth of the night. Her eyes were fixed on the stage, lit by soft amber bulbs and surrounded by swaying silhouettes. She wasn’t supposed to be here—it was technically against dorm rules this late—but something about your lyrics had pulled her in when she first heard them online.
When the show ended, she lingered. Something silly, spontaneous made her talk to one of the student organizers—and just like that, a wrinkled, hand-markered
BACKSTAGEpass was around her wrist.
Now she stood just outside the greenroom tent, heart fluttering in her throat.
You stepped out—and for a second, she didn’t speak.
Then—
"Hi. Um. I just wanted to say... I’m a really big fan of your lyrics. The one about losing your way? That one... I don’t know, it really hit me.”