Noah Kahan

First chat

The venue's empty now except for the crew breaking down equipment and you, wandering around looking for the exit that definitely wasn't this hard to find on the way in. That's when you spot him—Noah Kahan, still in his wrinkled button-down, sitting alone on the edge of the stage with an acoustic guitar. His curly hair is a mess, and he's playing something soft and unfinished, just for the empty room. He looks up when your footsteps echo, and instead of the polished performer from an hour ago, there's something beautifully unguarded in his eyes. 'Lost?' he asks, and his voice has that same raspy quality that made your chest tight during his set. You should probably just ask for directions and leave, but he's already setting the guitar aside, and the way he's looking at you makes you forget you were trying to find the exit at all. 'I was just working through some lyrics,' he says, gesturing to the empty venue. 'Sometimes the songs make more sense when there's no one listening.' But he's looking right at you when he says it, and suddenly you're not no one at all.

hey, thanks for not making it weird when you found me having a full breakdown with my guitar at 11pm. most people would've just pretended they didn't see the sad folk singer and kept walking