But in January, the lineup dropped, and while it was filled with a ton of artists I liked, there weren’t any artists that I truly loved. Like…absolutely would travel across state lines to see. Would sing along to every single lyric of every single song. Just “oh they had a good album” or “I’m sure they’d put on a fun show.”

To me, the lineup was just…fine. Good, even. But not mine. I was too stubborn to pass on my plans to go again so I decided to attend, get to know the artists a bit more and spend a weekend in Corona Park for the festival vibes this time.

It turns out you start to notice a lot more when you go to a festival and actually slow down. And I learned a lot about other fandoms, when none of them were mine.

A lot of music festivals have a particular vibe attached to them. Rolling Loud for hip-hop, All Things Go for the girls and the gays, Shaky Knees for rock fans. But lately, Gov Ball has never really branded itself any one particular way. There’s no signature genre, no defining demographic. Just whoever’s biggest right now, spread across a few stages in Queens, and the fandoms sort themselves out. A pop singer on Friday, a Kpop group Saturday, and a rapper to close out the night on Sunday.

Some people see that as a weakness. I get it. But I’ve never seen it to be a flaw. I like too many kinds of music to want a festival that only speaks to one part of me.

What I didn’t expect was that Gov Ball’s identity had nothing to do with music at all. It took me three days — and one fairly unexpected throughline — to figure out what it actually was.

The weekend started on a high note, with Katseye and Lorde drawing the biggest crowds of the night. Those two acts on the main stage pretty much displayed the vibe “problem” that Gov Ball seems to have. I went from being surprised at how many children were swarming the VIP pit to being surrounded by millennials and feeling like I was in a coming-of-age movie just two hours later.

I’d say it’s truly interesting how Katseye seems to have such a large fanbase of kids. From the crowd, I saw small children sitting on their parents’ shoulders recording every moment, and stood next to a teenage girl performing dance moves and singing along as if she were ready to be brought onstage for a song. As amazed as I was that the children are allowed to listen to a group I’d certainly have been banned from streaming if I were their age, by 8pm, the entire atmosphere of the main stage field changed.

Lorde put on an absolutely cathartic performance that felt uniquely intimate. At one point toward the end of the show, she asked the fans to hold something she was sending out to the crowd. I assumed it was her way of leading a sing-along moment, but when I looked to my right I discovered I was wrong. A giant flag covered the massive crowd that read, “I don’t belong to anyone,” lyrics from “David,” the song she was performing, with the dates 2013-2026. It was a message celebrating her independence from the label she signed with when she was just 12-years-old — the end of a chapter and the start of a new, free one — shared with her fans. Shortly after, she ran into the field to close out the show with the fan favorite “Ribs.”

As someone who loves various genres of music, I could never describe the plurality of Gov Ball’s lineup to be a flaw. But when you looked out in the crowd, it was hard to miss some clashing here and there.

Some fans arrived hours before their artist’s set to claim their spot at the barricade — a personal choice, and not one I’d make, but a common enough practice at festivals. The tension came when those same fans, locked in for their headliner, had to sit through the artists performing before them. I saw complaints circulating online, particularly about fans sitting on the ground during other artists’ sets — visually disruptive and honestly just a little rude to the people behind them trying to actually watch. There was also a pretty funny wave of posts about Stray Kids fans who ended up caught in a 2Hollis mosh pit they absolutely did not see coming.

But it wasn’t all clash. Some of the most heartwarming posts of the weekend came from Jennie fans who spent the day camped at her stage on Sunday and shared they ended up genuinely falling in love with hip-hop duo Clipse, who performed just before her. That’s the cross-pollination Gov Ball accidentally creates — you showed up for your thing and left having discovered something else entirely.

This year felt notably more K-pop heavy than last year, with three high-billed acts being either K-pop or global pop stars — Katseye, Stray Kids, and Jennie. And with that came something I found genuinely cool to watch: K-pop fan culture taking up real, visible space at an American music festival. There seemed to be this level of preparation and community organization that most other fandoms just don’t bring to a festival setting.

One of the people who embodied that energy most was Sydney, a freelance photographer and portrait artist. She came to Gov Ball specifically to document Stray Kids’ return to New York through fancams and fan portraits the whole weekend. The only problem was that she had no budget to get there.

Sydney makes collages, drawing directly onto concert photos she takes, creating a style that’s become recognizable in the STAY community. A few weeks before Gov Ball, she started a series of daily drawings to raise enough money for a ticket. Within two weeks, between art sales and fans who just wanted to support her, she’d raised not only enough for a general ticket but enough for a VIP upgrade.

“I could not be here if it weren’t for them,” she told me. “I had no budget to go, and now because of this I had exactly how much I needed to almost a dollar.”

She’s been a STAY for less than a year. She got into K-pop after watching K-pop Demon Hunters — “literally a week later I was like, whoa” — and within a month she was all in. Which makes what the community did for her feel even more remarkable. She didn’t have years to build those relationships. She found her people fast, and they showed up.

The weekend before Gov Ball, she’d attended multiple fan-organized events. One was Promenade in the Park, a casual meetup in Central Park where STAYs handed out freebies, held up signs for an injured member who couldn’t perform, and just existed together in the way K-pop fandoms do.

“I think the vibes are generally very welcoming,” she said. “If you’re new, you could stumble into their show and become a fan and everyone will share love and welcome you in.”

As a photographer, Sydney approaches fan spaces differently than most media. “When I first started concert photography, I was told never take pictures of your favorite artists because you’ll get distracted by wanting to meet them,” she told me. “And the more I do it, the more I’m like — that’s crazy. The photos that come out of a show you’re passionate about, it shows.”

Before Gov Ball started, she’d been photographing fans outside when she noticed the official Gov Ball media team nearby, also trying to get content, but not quite connecting. “They weren’t engaging with them in the same way,” she said. “I was going in asking everyone who their bias was, and they’d just light up.” She laughed. “On the media side, it helps to come from a place of — I’m passionate about this, you are too, we relate.”

That perspective also shaped how she sees K-pop culture spreading beyond its own community. “Underground communities are starting to integrate it more and more,” she said. “Like 2Hollis — he’s tried, what if I do lightsticks? They’re definitely pulling from K-pop because they’re inspired by that level of fandom. The mainstream is going to be the last to do it.”

Sydney wasn’t the only one who felt the support of fan communities while at Gov Ball. I stood behind another woman at the Stray Kids set who had a handmade message on the back of her shirt announcing she was a finalist in an art competition and asking fellow STAYs to vote, with a QR code pasted below the message. In a crowd of thousands, she was still finding ways to rally her community.

Stray Kids delivered a high-energy headlining set that the fans reflected right back to them. But the weekend wasn’t without its complications. With severe weather approaching the area, festival organizers moved Stray Kids’ set up earlier so the entire festival could wrap by 7:30pm. Some fans who hadn’t arrived yet missed the set entirely. And when the storm hit right after they performed, it was torrential — the kind of rain that makes you question every life choice that led you to an outdoor festival.

Sunday brought its own weather drama. Slayyyter was performing at 1:30pm. It was an early slot for the dance-pop artist who has been actively blowing up, and the crowd was massive and ready. Her team threw out free flags before the set. The energy was high. And then an announcement came over the speakers asking everyone to take shelter away from the stage due to weather in the area.

Many people scattered, myself included. Slayyyter’s most dedicated fans at the barricade stayed put.

When the rain stopped and she finally came back out, the crowd erupted. “Slayyterball” chants filled the air. It was one of those moments that you can’t manufacture, with a fandom that simply refused to leave, getting rewarded for it.

Throughout the weekend, I found myself pulling away from the crowd-watching to actually be in it. Earlier this month, I covered Festiverse, Live Nation’s official festival fan engagement community, in our June newsletter, and I made it a point to attend a couple of their meetups throughout the weekend. It was a really special community to witness, like a mini family reunion where people who had spent months chatting were meeting up for the first time. Even if you knew nobody there, the whole crowd was welcoming. At one point on Saturday, I caught 2Hollis’ set with someone I’d met at the Festiverse meetup just before. Neither of us were particularly familiar with his music. We had a great time anyway. That’s the whole point.

By Sunday night, I’d spent three days watching fandoms I didn’t belong to. I’d stood in crowds that weren’t mine, observed rituals I didn’t fully understand, and found myself genuinely moved by things I hadn’t expected to be moved by.

And then A$AP Rocky closed out the festival. By that point, I’d spent the entire weekend trying to figure out what connected all of this. I found myself standing next to a dad at the back of the pit — his kids somewhere near the front — asking me to explain why A$AP was such a big deal. I did my best. And as I looked around, I noticed something I’d been seeing all weekend but hadn’t quite named yet.

Knicks jerseys. Everywhere.

It had been building all weekend. There were flags flying high at the top of the main stage, many artists shouted out the Finals mid-set, Diplo performed in a Knicks jersey, and the game was even streamed somewhere on the festival grounds. The New York Knicks are in the finals for the first time since 1973, and the city was feeling it in every single space it occupied… including a music festival in Queens.

Sydney told me that even before Gov Ball, at a Stray Kids pre-party event, they were showing the Knicks game on the venue screens. Half the crowd were STAYs. Half were Knicks fans. They ended up talking, connecting, cheering together for completely different reasons and somehow ending up in the same moment.

That’s New York.

Gov Ball doesn’t have a genre. It doesn’t have a tribe. What it has instead is a city. And New York is hip-hop and K-pop and indie rock and pop and everything else simultaneously. Of course its festival sounds like that. The diversity of the lineup isn't a lack of vision. It's a reflection of the place. And sometimes, what unifies all of it isn't a genre or an artist or a carefully curated aesthetic. Sometimes it's a basketball team one win away from ending a 52-year drought, and a city that shows up for itself no matter what.

While I definitely loved a ton of the artists who performed throughout the weekend, I didn’t really consider myself to be a member of any of their fandoms. It was a stark difference from last year, where I would have told you the opposite.

But I think I came away with something better than a perfect lineup. I came away with a reminder of what fandom actually looks like from the outside — people who found their thing and brought it fully into a space that wasn’t designed for it specifically. The K-pop fans with their lightsticks and photocards. The Lorde crowd holding a flag for a chapter they’d lived through without fully knowing it. Sydney, who sold fan art every day just to be in the there.

You start to notice a lot more when you slow down. And when none of the fandoms are yours, you get to actually see them.

Music festival season is fully ramping up, but as most fans know, the hype starts long before the actual festival weekend. From lineup speculations to outfit planning to discovering new artists and navigating overlapping set times — the festival experience is extremely communal, with nonstop updates, and the industry is finding new ways to engage fans throughout that process.

This spring, Lollapalooza played into the artist prediction excitement, turning its lineup reveal into a week-long scavenger hunt, dropping cryptic clues and bone-conduction lollipops that played artist clips only the person holding them could hear. Meanwhile, Spotify partnered with festivals like Governors Ball and Austin City Limits on a personalized in-app experience that assigned fans a custom "Festival Persona" based on their listening history, building a playlist that pairs artists they already love with emerging acts they're likely to enjoy.

These activations are part of a growing recognition that the festival experience extends far beyond the weekend itself — something Kaitlyn McKnight understood long before it became a trend.

In 2022, she was hired to run a Discord community for Lollapalooza. It was a two-week sponsorship activation tied to a Discord-sponsored stage at the festival. Fans got access to a lounge, chatted online for a couple of weeks, met each other in person during the festival weekend, and that was supposed to be it. Except nobody left, so it kept expanding.

Festiverse is now Live Nation's official music festival fan engagement platform spanning more than 20 festivals, including Governors Ball, Bonnaroo, Austin City Limits, and Lollapalooza. It’s an app, an always-on community, and a content engine that keeps festival fans engaged year-round, from lineup speculation season all the way through the encore.

I spoke with Kaitlyn McKnight, Director of Community Management at Live Nation, about how festival fans connect, why the community kept going when it was never supposed to, and how she’s kept it feeling genuinely fan-run even as the platform has grown.

It wasn’t supposed to last. McKnight was brought in to manage the Discord community for two weeks, and when Lollapalooza ended, the community was supposed to go quiet with it. Instead, fans who had spent two weeks chatting online and then finally met each other in person at the festival lounge just kept talking.

“Everyone was just still chatting and so excited,” McKnight recalls. “They were like, what show are you going to next?” So she kept it going, slowly adding more festivals until it became something none of them had planned for. “It was supposed to be a one-month fun thing,” she says. “And now we’re here almost four years later.”

What McKnight noticed early on was that festival fans are a distinct kind of community. They’re not there for one artist, they’re there for the experience of being somewhere together. That excitement of discovering the 1 p.m. act you hadn’t heard of yet, or eating from the same food vendor every year.

“Festival fans are open to everything,” she says. “They will listen to every new album that comes out. They love discovery. They long for that experience on-site and are very open to new artists and side quests while they’re there.”

That community is especially powerful for first-timers and solo attendees. McKnight built an "ask an expert" forum under each festival, where longtime attendees answer questions from people going for the first time. "You gotta remember your first time — everyone's nervous," she says. On site, Festiverse hosts daily meetups where McKnight greets every single person, connects them with other fans who want to see the same artists, and hands out free swag. The goal is to make sure nobody who shows up alone stays that way.

That appetite for connection doesn’t stop when the festival ends either. The Festiverse community speculates about lineups months before they drop, tracks tour announcements for clues, and debates which headliners are off the table because their routing doesn’t make sense. The festival weekend is just one of many focal points.

Building a community that feels genuinely fan-run while operating inside a corporate structure like Live Nation required a specific philosophy. McKnight’s approach from day one was to never speak as the brand, showing up as herself instead. “No one wants to talk to a brand,” she says. “They want to talk to a face.”

McKnight brings in festival bookers and marketing managers for “ask me anything” chats, giving fans direct access to the people actually building the experiences they’re paying for. It's a level of transparency the industry rarely offers, and a level of trust that a traditional social media account never could build.

The co-creation piece is where that trust compounds. McKnight doesn’t build channels for the community, instead letting the community tell her what it needs. A member started posting weekly new music Friday lists in the chat; McKnight asked if he wanted his own channel for it. Fans in New York started wanting to organize around local shows between festivals; location-based channels followed.

“This is their home,” McKnight says. “This is where they’re spending hours of their days sometimes. I want everyone to be excited to come in.”

For an industry that has historically treated fans as consumers rather than collaborators, Festiverse represents something different — a platform that was built because fans asked for it, and keeps evolving because they keep asking. It didn't start as a vision for what fan engagement could look like. It started because fans didn't want to stop talking, and someone was paying attention.

The future of fandom is often authored by fans and the industry actually listening to each other. Festiverse is what that looks like in practice.

In the full conversation, Kaitlyn talks more about what makes festival fans their own distinct community, how Festiverse supports first-timers and solo attendees, and what co-creation actually looks like as the platform scales. Read it here.

You can follow Festiverse on Instagram, TikTok, and Discord, or download the app here.

What's Moving Fandom

The moments, decisions, and conversations shaping how fans experience pop culture right now.

Since I last wrote about Phoebe Bridgers' secret comeback tour, the story got more interesting. The pop-up shows were super exciting, taking place in small towns, with fliers posted day-of and tickets just $50. But a small subset of fans started gaming it almost immediately, allegedly following the tour bus between cities and cutting lines, which undermined what she was trying to build for local communities. She addressed it directly, sharing at a show, "These shows are meant for the towns. Don't get me wrong, I love a pilgrimage — but that's not what these shows are about." And now, as she scales, she evolved the system. This week she announced a show at Madison Square Garden, and what's interesting is how deliberately she designed for fairness this time around. The first-come-first-served format had a built-in equity problem, so she switched to a random lottery through Seated, with one registration per person, announced by Phoebe herself on social media so every fan found out at the same time. Tickets start at just $1 with proceeds going to the Community Justice Exchange's Immigration Bond Freedom Fund, and the Yondr pouches are back, keeping the phone-free policy even at 20,000 capacity. What she built in those small towns didn't get left behind when she walked into the world's most famous arena. That's the thing worth studying, not just that she designed something fan-first, but that she protected it when she didn't have to.

Spotify has announced "Reserved," a feature that holds concert tickets for an artist's most dedicated fans before general sale, based on streaming data. It's a genuinely cool but imperfect idea, given that streaming data doesn't always equal the biggest fan, and fans who know how this game works will find ways to game it — leaving your computer running on a playlist overnight is practically a fandom tradition. But the real problem ultimately is scarcity. An artist can have 500,000 fans in one city and only play for 50,000 of them, and every single one of those fans will tell you they deserve a ticket more than anyone else. No algorithm can fully solve that. But better for some fans isn't always better for all fans, yet better for some fans is still better than not being better for any fans. Spotify’s Reserved is a good start, and that’s worth something.

Amazon's Off Campus is the latest in a pattern worth paying attention to — after Stranger Things sent Kate Bush and Prince surging and Heated Rivalry made t.A.T.u. unavoidable, the show is now sending songs from Elton John, Jennifer Lopez, and The Beaches to the top of streaming charts. When this happens, the conversation always centers on the music — which songs are breaking, which artists are getting a second moment. The industry celebrates the catalog resurgence and the sync success. But it’s not as simple as fans hearing a good song. The emotional context of the show is doing most of the work. Beyond discovery, the song is functioning as a portal. It's a fan behavior story that keeps getting lost in the streaming numbers. More on that soon.

More from Fangirl Forward

From the Crowd: Last weekend, I took a trip to Hershey, PA to check out 5 Seconds of Summer's Everyone's a Star! World Tour. The show was a lively extension of the world they built with the project's rollout — back in November, I wrote about the way 5SOS created one of the most fan-collaborative eras they've ever had, satirizing the boyband machine with commentary about industry exploitation, a manufactured rise and fall, and a reclamation of their own narrative.

The tour carried that through to the stage. Fans voted on a deep cut before the show, and another fan stood front and center holding a briefcase that revealed the winning song — because as the band put it, fans are always going to complain about what didn't make the setlist, so they gave fans one song to own. A randomly selected fan walked onstage to present the band with the "Boyband of the Year" trophy. Midway through, they paused for a PowerPoint called "A 5SOS Guide: Becoming a Star in Hershey,” including a map of things they allegedly did before the show. For a band with fans who travel to multiple shows, building localization into the structure rather than swapping out a single scripted line matters.

But something else stood out to me from the crowd. Before the show, I saw a woman walking around handing out hearts. I assumed it was a sort of fan project for during the show, yet it turned out to be something more meaningful. She goes by @coliescicchitano on Instagram, and she’s been making the hearts since last August in honor of her cousin Kenny Rexer — a music teacher, a multi-instrumentalist, someone who loved creating and performing music his whole life. He passed away in March 2025. The hearts are her way of keeping him present. She’s handed out over 250 of them at concerts since then, each one containing a different message, given to fans and staff alike. “A lot of people say it really touched them or they are going through a hard time and that made their day,” she told me. If people post them, she saves the photos and sends them to his mom.“His impact will keep traveling beyond him to people he never met.”

The one she handed me read: “You have received this heart by chance. Music connects people in many ways. High five a stranger, hug your loved ones, make connections, be creative and live life.”

I expected it to have been a message outward to the band, like most fan projects. But instead, it was a message inward to the fans — to the strangers in the room who showed up for the same reason she did. The music is part of why we go to shows. But so is this.

Thanks for reading Fangirl Forward — where we push fandom forward by centering fan perspectives, interrogating the industry that shapes them, connecting fan skills to career pathways, and advocating for more informed, intentional fan communities.

Beyond the newsletter, we publish cultural analysis (Forward Focus), fan-led live event reporting (From the Crowd), fan-first career resources (Credentialed), and industry explainers (FANFAQ).

Want to be part of the conversation?

➡️ Pitch a guest

➡️ Send in a FANFAQ

➡️ Follow @fangirlforwardhq and @fanfavemedia

Then Lollapalooza ended…and nobody left.

Fans who had spent two weeks chatting online, then met each other in person at the festival, just kept talking about more than the festival. Kaitlyn noticed, kept the server going, and slowly started adding more festivals.

What was supposed to be a one-month activation is now Festiverse, Live Nation's official music festival fan engagement platform spanning more than 20 festivals, including Governor’s Ball, Bonnaroo, Austin City Limits, and Lollapalooza. It’s an app, an always-on community, and a content engine that keeps festival fans engaged year-round, from lineup speculation season all the way through the encore.

Below, Kaitlyn McKnight, Director of Community Management at Live Nation, talks about how festival fans connect, why the community kept going when it was never supposed to, and how she’s kept it feeling genuinely fan-run even as the platform has grown.

You’ve been building Festiverse since 2022. What were you noticing about how festival fans were connecting, or not connecting, that informed creating this project?

Long story short, the Festiverse Discord was created in July 2022 for Lollapalooza. Funnily enough, it started out as a sponsorship. Discord had sponsored a stage at Lolla that came with a lounge, and with the sponsorship they wanted to spin up a Discord server. I had been doing some social media consulting with C3, who runs Lollapalooza — they’re the actual team that puts on the events — and they were looking for someone that knew what Discord was.

It was literally only supposed to be a short sponsorship thing — run it for two weeks, get everyone really excited. The community in Discord had access to the lounge, so that was the really big perk of being part of it. We all chatted online for those two weeks together. I was able to get the booker of Lollapalooza, Huston, in for an ask me anything (AMA). It was really the first time a lot of community members had direct access to ask the booker of one of their favorite festivals behind-the-scenes questions.

That first two weeks was really exciting. Then actual Lollapalooza happened — we’re in the lounge, and now you’re meeting these people that you’ve been chatting with for the last two weeks. It just really cemented a lot of friendships. People who were going for their first time or literally their 14th time were bonded through this community in a new, really exciting way.

It was fully expected that Lollapalooza would happen and then things would naturally get quiet because the event was over. But everyone was just still chatting and so excited — they were like, what show are you going to next? I started noticing everyone just really wanted to talk to each other about the next concert or festival, or new music. That gave way to the idea of changing it from the Lolla Discord server and renaming it, and then adding all of our other festivals into this one community. We slowly started adding our bigger festivals, and now we’re at 20-something C3 Live Nation festivals — from smaller ones like High Water in Charleston all the way up to Bonnaroo, ACL, and Lolla.

It naturally became this thing because we listened to the community craving conversation with each other. It was supposed to be a one-month fun thing, and now we’re here almost four years later.

Festiverse is backed by Live Nation, but the community feels genuinely fan-run — like a group chat where people actually say what they think. How do you build and maintain that kind of trust when there’s a corporate structure behind it?

I’m just so biased toward Discord. You’re in this one big group chat. So many social media platforms are just a one-way chat, like “here’s information you need.” There’s no discourse back and forth. Here, I can relay information about what’s going on at the festival and then we can have a chat back and forth.

From day one I never wanted to talk as Lollapalooza. I was there to be a helper, and to answer questions about the Discord lounge or the festival and help the community. No one really wants to talk to a brand. They want to talk to a face. That’s why I bring in the bookers, marketing managers, people actually running these festivals, the people putting on the activations — they’re curious what fans think about brands or different things that happened on site. Just being that in-between, putting faces to your favorite festival or brand, makes all the difference.

Festival fandom feels pretty distinct from artist fandom. How do you think about what makes festival fans a specific kind of community?

It isn’t just the weekend of the festival. If you’re a big fan of your festival, it starts months before — when the lineup drops. But we have the super fans of all superfans in this community. They’re tracking tours even before the lineup drops, speculating who could be the headliners, figuring out who’s already off the table because their routing doesn’t make sense. There’s just so much speculation, and it does this beautiful crossover where someone who only goes to Lollapalooza starts thinking about other festivals too.

From the outside you think, oh, just a four-day weekend. No, there’s so much speculation and hype building all the way up until lineup drops, then the schedule, and it’s just this really extended time. With the AMAs, I try to bring in artists from the lineup to get people excited, learn about the artists, and really get them talking. Sometimes they become such a fan of that artist that they go buy a ticket to their tour after the festival. There’s really no downtime or off season. There’s a lot of things happening all the time.

A lot of people go to festivals solo or as first-timers. How does having a community like Festiverse change that experience before they ever step foot on the ground?

It can definitely be intimidating going to a new festival, especially solo. I think Reddit is an amazing place to ask those questions, but Discord can be even more powerful because you can get a question answered immediately and it can turn into a conversation.

Since we started having all these festivals in one place, I’ve realized there are people in the community who are more experts than me at certain festivals. So from day one I really entrusted them — hey, if you’ve been going, you’re an expert of your festival, I want you to speak up. There’s an “ask an expert” forum underneath each festival, and I really want our people to jump in and welcome the new people, because they all understand what it was like going for the first time.

So many people come in, ask their question, and are like, oh my gosh, y’all are so nice, this relieved so much nervousness and anxiety for me. And then, we have a meetup every day. I understand that can also be a lot, because walking up to a group of 50, 100, sometimes 200 people on site can also be nerve-wracking. So I make sure I’m greeting every single person, we have a free swag item each year, I’m introducing myself and asking what band they’re interested in and connecting them with someone else who wants to see the same thing. I try to lead by example, and our community members are often the first to answer questions. I really instill in everyone that you’ve gotta remember your first time — everyone’s nervous. I think they really do a good job at carrying the torch of what Festiverse is.

Have you noticed how different festivals attract noticeably different community energy, or does it blend together once fans are in the same space?

Every festival kind of has its own personality. They might align with the feeling of the festival — Shaky Knees is more rock, Bonnaroo is very camping and jam band and EDM. You can fit those personalities, but festival fans — they love the experience. Even though they’re excited for certain artists on the lineup, they talk about the weekend. They talk about going back and camping on the farm at Bonnaroo, or being in Grant Park and seeing the skyline, or what they’re going to eat. They long for the weekend and the feeling of escapism each year.

They’re also so open to any kind of artist. They want to be there when gates open. They’re interested in who was booked at the 1 p.m. slot and whether that person is going to blow up later. If you asked people years ago what kind of music they like, most would say R&B or pop or whatever. Festival fans are open to everything — they will listen to every new album that comes out every New Music Friday. They love discovery, they love all types of genres. That’s what you get at these all-genre festivals, like Bonnaroo or Lolla. They long for that experience on-site and are very open to new artists and side quests while they’re there.

You’ve talked about wanting fans to feel like they’re co-creating the space, not just joining another group. What does that actually look like in practice, and how do you protect that as the platform scales?

I give everyone the ability to bring ideas. We started very festival-focused, and then I just started noticing people wanted to chat about new albums coming out every Friday. There was one member, Campbell, who would make a list of every album or single coming out Thursday night. I posted in the chat and asked, hey, should we have our own New Music Friday channel? Do we want a more tour-focused channel? We have a channel where you can come up with ideas.

We never really had location-based channels, but I started seeing that people were going to shows all the time and wanted to find a friend to go with. Those were all community suggestions — let’s have an NYC chat, a Chicago chat, a California one. Some of the Gov Ball folks, who are a lot of New York locals, would just chat about events that weren’t even festivals or concerts. So those were all suggestions from the community.

I just give them the ability to see where conversations are going and say, all right, let’s make a whole dedicated space for that. They know they can always suggest things, and if they see something isn’t working, we talk about honest feedback. This is their home. This is where they’re spending hours of their days sometimes. I want everyone to be excited to come in and have their channels and their chats.

Victoria Hamersky knows the difference. She grew up a concert girlie, built her network camping outside venues, and joined Stan Twitter the same way everyone else did — she just ended up building a career out of it. Now, as the founder of VH MGMT Group and a former A&R at Elektra and Atlantic Records, she’s one of the people in the room who actually lived it first.

Below, she talks about wearing every hat until you don't have to, why fangirls deserve a seat at the table, and where the industry's diversity problem runs deeper than most admit.

You’ve worked across so many areas of the music industry — from VIP and touring to artist management and A&R. At the core of all of it, how do you define the role you play?

The overarching term would be music industry professional, because when you are an artist manager working for a developmental artist that’s not signed to a major, you are playing literally every role — you’re the manager, you’re the agent, you’re the lawyer, you’re the graphic designer, you do everything. You have to be prepared for everything.

Getting to work outside of management and do A&R and touring, I’m meeting so many people that are growing my network, and that benefits my artists at the end of the day. Like, I DM’d a manager one day — “Hey, my artist is a huge fan of yours, I’d love for them to get coffee, if not, no worries.” A week later they were like, “Actually, do you want them to open my New York show?” Then Nashville got added. Then, “Do you want to open for the whole tour?” Say less. Mind you, I met that manager through working in concerts and touring.

You do have to wear all of the hats until those services are given to you by being signed to a label, or if your artist gets absorbed by a larger management company. But then also same thing, if your artist can afford to hire a publicist, I no longer have to be the publicist. But, I love it. It makes me who I am. Everything that I do always comes back to connecting my artists, and I feel like at the end of the day, getting to be in A&R, getting to see what a lot of these artists on the major system have gone through, or what the processes really look like for these internal conversations or deals — it makes me more aware and knowledgeable of how to protect my artists and my personal clients as well.

You’ve said you were a fan first. How does that perspective shape the way you work with artists?

It’s 100% of who I am as a manager. My boss at Elektra and Atlantic is also a fangirl, and she wanted people like-minded like her on the team to see something she might not.

She said something recently that really stuck with me, “You were really passionate about this, and that’s why I wanted to listen to it.” And it just took me being overly passionate. I can see the vision, I can see a fan base brewing quickly. Sometimes you can look at an artist on the rise and just automatically know it’s going to happen for them.

In high school and college, I ran an interview series on my blog called On the Rise, from when I was about 15 through 22, over 100 artists. I interviewed Chappell Roan, Noah Kahan, Gracie Abrams, Griff, Maisie Peters — all when no one really knew who they were. The ten-year overnight success theory is kind of a thing, and being a fangirl has given me an edge that a lot of managers I’ve worked with don’t have. They don’t have the understanding of fandom, or just what it’s like to be so immersed with an artist because they’ve built a world their fans feel warm and safe in.

There’s no music industry, no money, no job without the fans. You can’t sell out a show to zero people. If you’re not actively working towards helping that artist develop and understand their fan base, you’re not selling tickets, you’re not selling records, you’re not selling merch. Fangirls deserve a seat at the table because their opinions and ideas matter. That’s what’s different about me — that been there, done that experience.

Where do you still see gaps between what the industry says it values and what actually gets supported?

The industry has made great strides putting women in positions of power over the last 10, 15 years. They’re giving these opportunities. They’re getting a seat at the table. But the table might have a woman there and it’s still lacking people of color, still lacking the queer community, still lacking disabled voices. There’s a lot of work that needs to be done, and I say this about artists too, not just industry professionals.

A great example is Halsey. She has one of the diseases that I have, Ehlers-Danlos, and she’s still actively touring. But I’m not on her team. I always want to be a fly on the wall like, are the people around her supporting her? Making sure she has what she needs to be able to put her best foot forward, and access to good health care. Because a lot of artists signed to labels don’t have insurance, no access to mental health resources, no access to medical care, and they’re putting all this money into a project they still have to recoup. You have to buy your merch before you can sell it. Get a van, pay for gas — all before you can go play a show and make money from it.

I believe there’s a space for everyone in music, and what you look like, who you love, what you are in the world, what gender you are, does not matter. Music is 100% for everyone.

There are organizations doing incredible work — the Black Music Collective, Queer Capita, Grammy U. The work they’re doing is so needed. But it really does suck that these organizations even have to exist.

“Blue Dot Fever” is taking over the timeline…but is the diagnosis right? After a series of artists — from Post Malone and The Pussycat Dolls, to Meghan Trainor — cancelled tour dates with visibly unsold arenas, everyone is rushing to blame high ticket costs and the state of the economy. I’m not convinced it’s that simple. There are still many tours happening, and they’re selling out. The real question isn't whether fans will spend. it's who they've decided is worth it. The artists who have fans flocking to buy tickets are the ones giving fans a very clear reason to — having actually released new music in between tours, or coming back after years away, or just offering something genuinely rare (album anniversary tours, for example). Ticket prices are higher than ever, but fans are still going to shows. They're just selective. That's not a crisis, it's just healthy discernment. And those are very different problems that deserve very different conversations.

The Rocky Horror Show has been on Broadway for about a month, and it’s causing some confusion about audience participation. I've been watching this one unfold for a while, and seeing a lot of conflicting stories on social media. If you know the franchise, you know the audience for Rocky Horror is rather…rambunctious. There’s callbacks, costumes, props, and crude one-liners timed to the dialogue. That is not the etiquette live theatre typically endures, and if you sit in a theatre and decide you want to sing along, you should generally expect an altercation. But Rocky Horror is a genuinely different case, and the production has apparently made it difficult for fans by refusing to commit to a clear stance. The messaging has shifted multiple times since previews began — signs, announcements, website updates, a pre-show speech — and fans are still walking in with no idea what's actually allowed. For longtime Rocky Horror devotees, the ambiguity doesn't just feel confusing. It feels like a betrayal, too. As one fan put it online, "I feel like this erases the entire history of the show and removes a safe space for people. Hearing people do the callbacks is part of the experience."

The result is a room full of people with completely different expectations and no shared rules. Some are overdoing it for attention. Some are doing traditional callbacks and getting yelled at by fellow audience members. Some had no idea participation was even a thing and left confused. And somewhere in there, Rachel Dratch is reportedly pausing mid-scene waiting for callbacks that never come, appearing disappointed in a crowd that got too well-behaved. Meanwhile Cats: The Jellicle Ball, also on Broadway right now, opens with an announcement telling audiences to hoot, holler and wave their fans as much as they want. The energy in that room is reportedly incredible. Audience participation on Broadway isn't new, and immersive theatre has existed for years. But watching two shows on the same street handle fan energy so differently right now makes it an interesting moment to pay attention to.

Phoebe Bridgers is doing something I haven't seen anyone else try for a comeback, and fans are losing their minds over it. After going quiet since 2023, she's been making unannounced stops at small venues across the south and midwest — Roswell, Lubbock, Little Rock, Memphis — with no promotion, local flyers shared day-of, $50 tickets, first-come first-served. Fans don’t have to worry about winning a Ticketmaster war, and there’s no platinum pricing. You just show up. The hysteria around it has spawned its own fan ecosystem online. There's a TikToker tracking her movements like a meteorologist, issuing literal "Phoebe Bridgers watches" and "Phoebe Bridgers warnings" predicting how close she is to your city. It's a scavenger hunt, it's a community event, and it's a reminder that in an era when getting tickets to anything feels impossible, there's something genuinely electric about an artist who makes herself findable and accessible…if you're paying attention.

A quick note: Fangirl Forward is evolving. The newsletter as you know it is shifting to a monthly cadence… but that doesn’t mean you’ll be getting less content, just different types. We’re getting more intentional. Verticals like Forward Focus, FANFAQ, and From the Crowd will now be landing directly in your inbox (rather than landing only on the site), and more regularly, rounding out the weeks between our monthly digests.

That includes our newest addition: Credentialed. We’ve been publishing fan-to-pro career content since day one, and now, it has a dedicated home. Whether it’s a press pass, a photo pit badge, or a studio access card, a credential is what gets you in the room. This vertical is for the fans working on getting theirs — with career-focused interviews, guides, and resources to help you get there. Find it on the site, or wait for it to come to you.

Thanks for reading Fangirl Forward — where we push fandom forward by connecting fan skills to career pathways, centering fan perspectives in industry conversations, and building more informed, intentional fan communities.

Fangirl Forward is part of Fan Fave Media, a creative studio focused on entertainment storytelling, live experiences, and cultural strategy that amplifies emerging voices.

Want to be part of the conversation?

➡️ Pitch a guest

➡️ Send in a FANFAQ

➡️ Follow @fangirlforwardhq and @fanfavemedia for updates

Victoria Hamersky knows the difference. She grew up a concert girlie, built her network camping outside venues, and joined Stan Twitter the same way everyone else did — she just ended up building a career out of it. Now, as the founder of VH MGMT Group and a former A&R at Elektra and Atlantic Records, she's one of the people in the room who actually lived it first.

Below, she talks about wearing every hat until you don’t have to, why fangirls deserve a seat at every table, and the gaps the industry still isn’t closing fast enough.

You’ve worked across so many areas of the music industry — from VIP and touring to artist management and A&R. At the core of all of it, how do you define the role you play?

The overarching term would be music industry professional, because when you are an artist manager working for a developmental artist that’s not signed to a major or a huge label, you are playing literally every role — you’re the manager, you’re the agent, you’re the lawyer, you’re the graphic designer, you do everything. You have to be prepared for everything.

Getting to work outside of management and do A&R and touring, I’m meeting so many people that are growing my network, and that benefits my artists at the end of the day. Like, I DM’d a manager one day — “Hey, my artist is a huge fan of yours, I’d love for them to get coffee, if not, no worries.” A week later they were like, “Actually, do you want them to open my New York show?” Then Nashville got added. Then, “Do you want to open for the whole tour?” Say less. Mind you, I met that manager through working in concerts and touring.

You do have to wear all of the hats until those services are given to you by being signed to a label, or if your artist gets absorbed by a larger management company. But then also same thing, if your artist can afford to hire a publicist, I no longer have to be the publicist. But, I love it. It makes me who I am. Everything that I do always comes back to connecting my artists, and I feel like at the end of the day, getting to be in A&R, getting to see what a lot of these artists on the major system have gone through, or what the processes really look like for these internal conversations or deals — it makes me more aware and knowledgeable of how to protect my artists and my personal clients as well.

You started your management company at a young age. What made you feel ready, and do you have any advice for others looking to do the same?

I’ve been a concert girlie my whole life. Growing up in Philly, my family was always in Atlantic City, and in the early 2000s casino shows were what arena shows are now. I saw everyone — Beyoncé, Britney Spears, Jesse McCartney, Hillary Duff, the list goes on. I was so infatuated by that at a very young age. I was also so active in just entertainment in general as a kid, like I was even in Disney Channel commercial. I did a TV show, I was very involved.

I’m an only child, and I grew up with a lot of chronic illnesses I still have to this day, so the internet and social media became my safe place. I’m a Leo, I’m Italian, I loved making friends. I joined Stan Twitter, as one does, and I kind of built my entire music industry career through being on there, meeting other fans, and meeting other people.

Then I went to see One Direction and did not see any women working behind the scenes from what I saw, and I was like, I hate that. And then I was realizing, okay, sure, Stan Twitter, there’s a lot of lies on there, but the girlies were so right. One Directions management team, they were preventing them from doing a lot of things — telling them who to be, what to wear, turning Niall’s mic off. I internalized it and it was kind of my catalyst, I don’t want an artist to ever experience that. Being a chronically ill girly, music is absolutely my medicine and therapy, so I thought, how can I make a career in music where not only is it sustainable for me, but I’m also able to find a way to help someone through it? That was being an artist manager.

When I was 15, I started buying every music industry book I could find, learning as much as I could. I skipped prom to go to a concert, and was camping out on the street and meeting people in line. I was connecting with everyone at the concert venues that would speak to me. I was building a network before I really knew what that was. Now I’m turning 25 this summer, and a lot of those people I camped out with, we work together. It’s a beautiful thing.

The biggest advice I’d give if you know you want to work in music: music industry education should absolutely be your priority. No matter what field you end up in, being able to have knowledge of all the different facets you could potentially be involved in will not only benefit you, but it will benefit the artist you’re working for. That’s how you become a better asset.

You’ve said you were a fan first. How does that perspective shape the way you work with artists?

It’s 100% of who I am as a manager. My boss at Elektra and Atlantic is also a fangirl, and she wanted people like-minded like her on the team to help scout artists and see something she might not, because a lot of times when you're a higher position in A&R, you're focused on the artists you already have on the label. But when you have an assistant or a scout, I was solely responsible for making group chats, connecting artists, going on calls with their managers, getting demos, all of that. And the reason I even met her is because she emailed me wanting to connect with one of my artists when I was like 17, 18 years old. I was like, oh, I love this. It was so cool.

She said something recently that really stuck with me, “You were really passionate about this, and that’s why I wanted to listen to it.” And it just took me being overly passionate — like, I know I send you stuff every day, but there is something about this that is hitting so different. I can see the vision, I can see a fan base brewing quickly. Sometimes you can look at an artist on the rise and just automatically know it’s going to happen for them.

In high school and college, I ran an interview series on my blog called On the Rise, from when I was about 15 through 22, over 100 artists. I interviewed Chappell Roan, Noah Kahan, Gracie Abrams, Griff, Maisie Peters — all when no one really knew who they were. The ten-year overnight success theory is kind of a thing, and being a fangirl has given me an edge that a lot of managers I’ve worked with don’t have. They don’t have the understanding of fandom, or just what it’s like to be so immersed with an artist because they’ve built a world their fans feel warm and safe in.

There’s no music industry, no money, no job without the fans. You can’t sell out a show to zero people. If you’re not actively working towards helping that artist develop and understand their fan base, you’re not selling tickets, you’re not selling records, you’re not selling merch. Fangirls deserve a seat at the table because their opinions and ideas matter. That’s what’s different about me — that been there, done that experience.

Where do you still see gaps between what the industry says it values and what actually gets supported?

The industry has made great strides putting women in positions of power over the last 10, 15 years. They’re giving these opportunities. They’re getting a seat at the table. But the table might have a woman there and it’s still lacking people of color, still lacking the queer community, still lacking disabled voices. There’s a lot of work that needs to be done, and I say this about artists too, not just industry professionals.

A great example is Halsey. She has one of the diseases that I have, Ehlers-Danlos, and she’s still actively touring. But I’m not on her team. I always want to be a fly on the wall like, are the people around her supporting her? Making sure she has what she needs to be able to put her best foot forward, and access to good health care. Because a lot of artists signed to labels don’t have insurance, no access to mental health resources, no access to medical care, and they’re putting all this money into a project they still have to recoup. You have to buy your merch before you can sell it. Get a van, pay for gas — all before you can go play a show and make money from it.

I believe there’s a space for everyone in music, and what you look like, who you love, what you are in the world, what gender you are, does not matter. Music is 100% for everyone. I physically cannot fathom exclusion in the music industry when everything stems back to the exact people you’re excluding. Blues, Soul, rock and roll, jazz, Americana, folk — all of that stems from Black America. I’m the girl that’s like, oh, you like Elvis? Do you know his most famous song is actually from a Black queer woman who is basically the founder of rock and roll — Sister Rosetta Tharpe? All of these genres and cultures stem from people that you don’t want in your space, and that’s just like completely mind-boggling. That’s why I try to do the work that I do — making the music industry more inclusive for women, people of color, LGBTQ, and disabled persons, because we need these voices at the table just as much.

There are organizations doing incredible work — the Black Music Collective, Queer Capita, Grammy U. The work they’re doing is so needed. But it really does suck that these organizations even have to exist. There’s no organization that a white male music industry professional will ever need, it’s already in their favor. Unfortunately that's still the way corporate America operates, especially right now. But diversity, equity, inclusion — that doesn't just include the music industry, it includes the whole world, because we're all human, we're all people. Music should bring people together, not separate them.

What are you a fan of right now?

My dream job is to be the friend that alerts everyone about what’s happening in pop culture. Right now, I’m obsessed with The Pitt. I was a huge fan of ER growing up, so it’s a great segue, but also everyone’s hotter, which is crazy to think about. Something about The Pitt that I also resonate with Heated Rivalry is that they’re not completely unknown but a lot of these actors aren’t being handed opportunities on a silver platter, some of them were literally serving in restaurants less than a year ago. Things like that bring me so much joy. Anything is possible if you have the passion and the drive, and just make your dreams come true, you can do it.

I’m obviously still obsessed with One Direction, that’s just a given. I’ve been obsessed with Raye since 2019. I’ve been so lucky to kind of be a fan in the background to hear her story. Around COVID she was signed to EMI in the UK and they were completely blacklisting her from everything — shelving her music, blocking everything — and mind you, during that time she’s writing songs for Beyoncé and doing a lot of EDM and club tracks. She found a way to leave, and now she’s 100% independent. She put out a beautiful record a couple years ago. I saw her in Philly when they moved the show to a smaller venue because it “wasn’t sold out,” and you could barely walk through the door. It was overly packed. Now it’s 2026, I’m about to see her in Philly and Nashville, and the entire tour is sold out. Her album is number one across the charts. Her entire story, her message, everything is just so impactful to me. And this record is just full of hope. She’s such a testament to what hard work, faith, and determination can get you, despite all the people being against you. She was always talking about white male CEOs telling her what to do and who to be, and being able to take her freedom back and have an entirely sold-out US, UK, and EU tour — it’s just unfathomable and beautiful. And then her sisters are opening up for her, which I love them too. They’re fantastic artists: Absolutely and Amma.

Keep up with Victoria on Instagram here, and VH MGMT here.

Before streaming, before social media, and before algorithmically generated playlists told you what to listen to next…there was radio.

Radio was where you first heard the song that changed everything. Where you called in to dedicate a song to someone. Where you found out your favorite artist was coming to town, or won concert tickets just by being the ninth caller.

For a lot of fans, radio has always been part of how fandom happens. And while the platforms have changed, the core dynamic hasn’t.

With Mother’s Day this week, I wanted to feature someone who has spent over 30 years working at that intersection of radio and music fandom, and who also happens to be the person who first showed me what it meant to love music deeply enough to make it your life’s work.

Tracy Morgan is a syndicated radio personality, multi-Stellar Award winner, and the first woman inducted into the Spin Awards Hall of Fame. With millions of listeners tuning in daily across 40+ cities nationwide and a career spanning more than three decades, she’s built one of the most devoted audiences in radio. She’s also my mom.

Below, she talks about the voices who inspired her, how radio and fandom have always been intertwined, the misconceptions fans have about how radio really works, and what it actually takes to turn a love of music into a career in broadcasting.

You knew you wanted to be in broadcasting from the time you were 13. Who were some of the voices you grew up listening to that made you fall in love with radio/television and how did they inspire you?

It actually started with television. My mom always had the news on while she was cooking, and one day I glanced up and saw Lark McCarthy on screen. I kept watching every time she came on, I didn’t want to miss a single one of her broadcasts. That was the moment I said to myself, I’m going to be a television newscaster, and I started pursuing it from there. I eventually got to meet Lark McCarthy, which was such a full circle moment. Valerie Coleman in San Francisco was another one. I spent my summers in California as a little girl and watched her all the time. I got to meet her too, and I remember just how excited I was to be able to visit a television studio.

My passion for radio came a little later, when I met Candy Shannon. She was a popular radio announcer in Washington, DC on WKYS, and I met her at a taping for a show featuring female radio announcers. I only got to speak with her briefly after the show, but she invited me to come see the radio station — and the moment I walked in, I fell in love. She was so smooth on air. At one point I genuinely wanted to sound just like her. She would critique my tapes, and eventually I got the courage to submit my audition tape to stations in the DC area. I landed my first job as a board operator and worked my way to becoming an on-air talent from there.

You’ve built a listenership that tunes in every single day. What do you think
actually creates that kind of loyalty?

Being real. Authentic. People tune in because they feel like they know me, not as a radio personality on a pedestal, but as their sister, their girlfriend, their family. I never talk above my listeners. I always approach the mic like we’re sitting in my living room having a friendly conversation. And that authenticity has created real relationships for me, too. I’ve answered my request lines throughout my career, and some of those callers became people I genuinely know and love. One became one of my dearest friends for over 25 years. And I have a beautiful goddaughter because her mom called in on the request line one day. That’s what radio can do when you show up as yourself. It brings people together.

You’ve watched radio evolve through so many eras — before streaming, after streaming, social media, podcasts. How has the fan relationship with radio
changed?

Once streaming platforms and digital music took off, things changed pretty fast. Fans could discover music on their own, and they didn’t need to wait for radio to hear their favorite song. Radio is still the top platform for reaching an audience, but now fans can also stream and play songs on demand. That shifted things. Radio’s role in music discovery became less about being the first to play something and more about being a trusted voice helping listeners make sense of what’s out there. It’s still one of the most powerful tools for breaking new music, but the relationship looks different now. With social media, listeners have the ability to engage directly with hosts, artists, and each other in real time. The relationship became more conversational and visible, and I have had to become a lot more intentional about branding myself off the air.

Fans can also now respond instantly, shape discussions of what gets played and talked about on the air, and even influence programming trends through online feedback and data. What hasn’t changed is that listeners still value connection and personality above everything else. I’ve just learned to meet them where they are.

Fans often have strong feelings about radio — why their favorite song isn’t getting played, how playlists are decided, who actually has control. What’s a common misconception you wish more listeners understood?

The biggest misconception is that playlists are built on personal taste. They’re not. They’re shaped by a mix of audience research, streaming data, market trends, and industry relationships. I sit on a lot of music panels, and I’m constantly explaining to artists that getting a song added to a playlist isn’t just about how good the song is. The real question programmers are always asking is: will this keep most listeners from changing the station? That’s the filter everything goes through. It’s a business decision just as much as a creative one, and I think understanding that helps fans and artists alike manage their expectations around radio.

For someone who grew up as a fan of music and wants to turn that
into a career in radio, what’s the first step?

Understand that radio is really about communication, not just the music. A lot of people come in as music lovers and are surprised by how much of the job is about how you tell a story and how you connect with people. So start practicing that — whether it’s college radio, a local station, a podcast, or even just recording yourself at home. Get comfortable with your voice and how you use it.

And listen to radio differently. Don’t just listen as a fan, listen like a student. Pay attention to the pacing, the transitions, the way a host carries a segment. There are so many moving parts to executing a good radio show that you don’t notice until you start looking for them. Find a mentor who can help you navigate the industry, because there’s a lot that can’t be learned from the outside looking in.

If you’ve ever wanted to work at the intersection of music, storytelling, and community, Shore Fire Media is hiring a Publicity Assistant to join their team in Nashville. One of the most respected music PR firms in the industry, Shore Fire reps artists across music, books, documentaries, and more, and they have a strong history of promoting from within. If you’re the person in your friend group who always knows the best new artists and can’t stop talking about them, this one’s for you. Apply here.

Netflix is hiring a Multicultural Coordinator to support publicity campaigns across films and series built for diverse audiences. The role touches everything from junkets and premieres to influencer strategy and cultural tastemaker outreach — essentially, helping shape how stories reach the communities they’re made for. Apply here.

If you love live music and want to work on the fan experience side of it, Superfan, the company behind VIP and premium fan experiences for artists like Katy Perry, Metallica, and Bon Jovi, is hiring a Web & Digital Coordinator. The role owns the digital side of fan-facing program launches, from VIP pages to campaign landing pages. Email your resume to hiring@superfan.live to apply.

New York Theatre Workshop, the legendary NYC theater behind Rent, Hadestown, and Slave Play, is hiring an Education & Engagement Associate to help bring their programming to students and communities across the city. If you’re passionate about live performance, audience building, and making arts spaces more accessible, this is a meaningful one. Apply here.

Thanks for reading Fangirl Forward — where we push fandom forward by connecting fan skills to career pathways, centering fan perspectives in industry conversations, and building more informed, intentional fan communities.

Beyond the newsletter, we publish cultural analysis (Forward Focus), fan-led live event reporting (From the Crowd), and industry explainers (FANFAQ).

Fangirl Forward is part of Fan Fave Media, a creative studio focused on entertainment storytelling, live experiences, and cultural strategy that amplifies emerging voices.

Want to be part of the conversation?

➡️ Pitch a story

➡️ Send in a FANFAQ

➡️ Follow @fangirlforwardhq and @fanfavemedia for updates

New editions publish every other Wednesday.

Radio was where you first heard the song that changed everything. Where you called in to dedicate a song to someone. Where you found out your favorite artist was coming to town, or won concert tickets just by being the ninth caller.

For a lot of fans, radio has always been part of how fandom happens. And while the platforms have changed, the core dynamic hasn’t — fandom has always been built on connection, trust, and consistency.

Tracy Morgan is a syndicated radio personality, multi-Stellar Award winner, and the first woman inducted into the Spin Awards Hall of Fame. With millions of listeners tuning in daily across 40+ cities nationwide and a career spanning more than three decades, she’s built one of the most devoted audiences in radio.

Below, she talks about the voices who inspired her, how radio and fandom have always been intertwined, the misconceptions fans have about how radio really works, and what it actually takes to turn a love of music into a career in broadcasting.

You knew you wanted to be in broadcasting from the time you were 13. Who were some of the voices you grew up listening to that made you fall in love with radio/television and how did they inspire you?

It actually started with television. My mom always had the news on while she was cooking, and one day I glanced up and saw Lark McCarthy on screen. I kept watching every time she came on, I didn't want to miss a single one of her broadcasts. That was the moment I said to myself, I'm going to be a television newscaster, and I started pursuing it from there. I eventually got to meet Lark McCarthy, which was such a full circle moment. Valerie Coleman in San Francisco was another one — I spent my summers in California as a little girl and watched her all the time. I got to meet her too, an I remember just how excited I was to be able to visit a television studio.

My passion for radio came a little later, when I met Candy Shannon. She was a popular radio announcer in Washington, DC on WKYS, and I met her at a taping for a show featuring female radio announcers. I only got to speak with her briefly after the show, but she invited me to come see the radio station — and the moment I walked in, I fell in love. She was so smooth on air. At one point I genuinely wanted to sound just like her. She would critique my tapes, and eventually I got the courage to submit my audition tape to stations in the DC area. I landed my first job as a board operator and worked my way to becoming an on-air talent from there.

What did it feel like to be on the other side of the mic for the first time, knowing you were now the voice someone else might be listening to?

It was very exciting, but I was very nervous at the same time. I was working as a board operator for a talk show when the host asked me to bring him back in after a commercial break. My very first words on air were "and now back to the Calvin W. Rolark Show." I had no idea in that moment just how much of my life would be defined by what came next.

Radio has always had a unique relationship with fans — requests, dedications, being the first place people hear a song that changes their life. How do you think about your role in that experience?

It's an incredible honor, and I never take it lightly. Every time I open that microphone, I'm aware that what I say has the power to make someone's day, or change it entirely. Music carries so much emotion, and I've always seen my role as someone who gets to be the bridge between the music and the listener. My goal is always to encourage and uplift, through both what I play and what I share. When you're someone's morning — when your voice is the first thing they hear — that means something. I try to honor that every single day.

You’ve built a listenership that tunes in every single day. What do you think
actually creates that kind of loyalty?

Being real. Authentic. People tune in because they feel like they know me — not as a radio personality on a pedestal, but as their sister, their girlfriend, their family. I never talk above my listeners. I always approach the mic like we’re sitting in my living room having a friendly conversation.

And that authenticity has created real relationships. I’ve answered my request lines throughout my career, and some of those callers became people I genuinely know and love. One became one of my dearest friends for over 25 years. And I have a beautiful goddaughter because her mom called in on the request line one day. That’s what radio can do when you show up as yourself.

Listeners often feel like they genuinely know the people they hear every morning. How do you think about that relationship, and the responsibility that comes with it?

That relationship is real. When people meet me in person, they don't have to worry about me being untouchable or too big to stop and talk. I'm going to have a conversation with you — that's just who I am. That’s not a hard thing to do. My responsibility is to always be kind, respectful, and present for my listeners. And honestly, it's not hard to do that when you remember that they have options. They chose to tune into you.

You’ve watched radio evolve through so many eras — before streaming, after streaming, social media, podcasts. How has the fan relationship with radio
changed?

Once streaming platforms and digital music took off, things changed pretty fast. Fans could discover music on their own, and they didn’t need to wait for radio to hear their favorite song. Radio is still the top platform for reaching an audience, but now fans can also stream and play songs on demand. That shifted things. Radio's role in music discovery became less about being the first to play something and more about being a trusted voice helping listeners make sense of what's out there. It's still one of the most powerful tools for breaking new music, but the relationship looks different now.

Now, with social media, listeners have the ability to engage directly with hosts, artists, and each other in real time. The relationship became more conversational and visible. Fans can respond instantly, shape discussions, and even influence programming trends through online feedback and data. What hasn't changed is that listeners still value connection and personality above everything else. I've just learned to meet them where they are.

Fans often have strong feelings about radio — why their favorite song isn’t getting played, how playlists are decided, who actually has control. What’s a common misconception you wish more listeners understood?

The biggest misconception is that playlists are built on personal taste. They're not. They’re shaped by a mix of audience research, streaming data, market trends, and industry relationships. I sit on a lot of music panels, and I'm constantly explaining to artists that getting a song added to a playlist isn't just about how good the song is. The real question programmers are always asking is: will this keep most listeners from changing the station? That's the filter everything goes through. It's a business decision as much as a creative one, and I think understanding that helps fans and artists alike manage their expectations around radio.

What do you wish someone had told you early on that you had to learn the hard way?

Consistency wins over everything else. Early on I thought it was about landing big breaks or sounding perfect on air. What I learned over time is that what actually builds trust with listeners is showing up every single day. Doing things like sounding natural, being prepared, doing the show prep. I didn’t need to focus on impressing the listeners, they wanted the real me. I'm grateful I got that advice relatively early in my career, because it saved me a lot of time chasing the wrong things.

For someone who grew up as a fan of music and wants to turn that
into a career in radio, what’s the first step?

Understand that radio is really about communication, not just music. A lot of people come in as music lovers and are surprised by how much of the job is about how you tell a story and how you connect with people. So start practicing that — whether it's college radio, a local station, a podcast, or even just recording yourself at home. Get comfortable with your voice and how you use it.

And listen to radio differently. Don’t just listen as a fan, listen like a student. Pay attention to the pacing, the transitions, the way a host carries a segment. There are so many moving parts to executing a good radio show that you don’t notice until you start looking for them. Find a mentor who can help you navigate the industry, because there’s a lot that can’t be learned from the outside looking in.

What are you a fan of right now? Do you have any pop culture recs?
I have really been getting into Broadway shows and stage plays a lot more recently. I saw Hell’s Kitchen, the Alicia Keys musical earlier this year, and that was great. MJ: The Musical and Moulin Rouge, I really loved those too. They all have incredible soundtracks, of course, but with Hell’s Kitchen and MJ in particular, I get really excited by stories that involve narratives of resilience and growth in the music industry.

Want to keep up with Tracy? Follow her on Instagram here.

Fan friendships usually start the same way. You like the same artist or show, you become mutuals, maybe you meet at a show once. And then for most people… that’s kind of it.

Outside of concerts or fan conventions, there aren’t really many places for those connections to keep going. Everyone goes back to their own lives, and the community mostly lives online again.

Alesia and Selin — two best friends who connected through fandom — noticed that and built around it. Through irl. fans for friends, they host monthly in-person events across New York and London, from album release parties to casual meetups like picnics and vision boarding sessions.

The point isn’t to sit around talking about an artist all night. It’s to actually get to know each other, and give those connections somewhere to go beyond fandom conversations.

Below, they talk about what gets lost between online and offline fandom, what it takes to actually bring people together in person, and how those connections can turn into real-life friendships.

When you think about fandom spaces more broadly, what do you feel like they’re missing right now when it comes to real connection and how did that lead you to creating irl. fans for friends?

Selin: I think sometimes, especially in spaces like stan Twitter, people can kind of hide behind a screen and just say whatever they want. And the community you build online is really special, but you only really see it come together in real life when it’s something like a concert. And if there aren’t concerts happening in your area — especially if you’re from a place where artists don’t really tour — it’s very hard to bring that community into a real-life space.

You can feel really connected to someone online, especially when you share interests that your friends in real life might not have. So I think it’s really important to bring that in-person. We wanted to create something where that could exist more consistently.

Alesia: I was thinking the exact same thing. The reality is, the only time a bunch of fans come together if it’s music related is usually at a concert. So being able to take that same community and bring it into other spaces, whether that’s karaoke, dance parties, Pilates, a hot girl walk, whatever it is — it’s about translating that connection into other aspects of our lives.

You’re doing something different — bringing people together in real life, but not centering the event around fandom itself. How did you land on that model specifically?

Selin: I think like with friendships, it’s important to keep that retention. If you’re going to stay friends with someone, you need different things you can talk about — it can’t just be the fandom. We’ve only done one event in London so far, but in New York there’s been two, and I know Alesia is still connected to people from the first event. That’s because you end up bonding over other things happening in your lives. I think that’s really important.

Alesia: Yeah, I completely agree. If you have one thing in common, you probably have a bunch of other things in common too. And you can’t just always talk about Harry Styles or Olivia Dean or Taylor Swift — eventually that’s going to get old.

Being able to have activities is how real friendships form. I think about Selin — the first time we really hung out, we were doing all sorts of things. I only knew her because she was a fan of Harry, but after that we were going to pubs, thrifting, just doing normal things that weren’t about Harry. So it’s about taking that and bringing it into other spaces.

Selin: Yeah, and when we first met, I followed Alesia on Instagram, but we didn’t interact that much online. She was coming to London for a holiday, and I just DMed her like, stay at mine.

There was that sudden level of trust — you like this person, I like this person, there’s already a community in place. And Alesia was so down, she stayed for like 10 days. There was never a dull moment because we were just discovering all these other things we had in common and there’s suddenly a flourishment of a friendship. And now we speak every day. I think I speak to Alesia more than I speak to my parents.

What has been your favorite event so far?

Selin: We’ve only done three, but probably the second New York one.

Alesia: Yeah, I really liked that one. It was a little chaotic for me personally because I had a lot going on, but everyone else was awesome and great. I think Harries are some of the best people, everyone was just really gracious.

Selin: I think that was the first time we saw a proper community come together in real life that we were hosting. The first event in New York was about 20 people, and the London one was about 20 also. Then suddenly there were hundreds of people in the room, all with this excitement because the album had just dropped that day.

I was actually on the way to Marrakesh and Alesia FaceTimed me from the event to show me what it looked like. I was in the taxi to the airport just feeling overwhelmed with joy.

It was like, wow — I can’t believe we’ve brought all these people together and they’re all just dancing, singing, having the best time.

You see things like album listening parties happen online all the time, but seeing that happen in person felt really special. And I saw so many people tweeting about it, people I’ve followed for years but never actually seen, and suddenly I was like, oh my God, you’re there. That’s so cool.

The fan conversations and industry decisions shaping how entertainment is experienced right now.

Another year of Coachella is now in the books, and there was no shortage of massive fan moments — from Billie Eilish living out all of our fangirl dreams as “One Less Lonely Girl” during weekend two, to a stacked lineup of onstage team-ups: Sabrina Carpenter x Madonna, Olivia Rodrigo x Addison Rae, Sexyy Red x Lizzo, Zara Larsson x PinkPantheress, and so many more. One interesting bit of commentary among fans over both weekends, though, was how differently the two shows felt. Many headliners historically play nearly identical sets both weekends, but in 2026, weekend 2 was notably stacked with surprise guests and special moments. Worth watching whether this becomes the new normal.

Justin Bieber's headlining set also had the internet split, but either way, it got people talking. He leaned into the stripped-down, lo-fi world of SWAG and SWAG II, delivering something closer to an intimate late-night session than a big festival spectacle. Some fans loved it. Others called it lazy — a $10 million YouTube viewing party. But Justin was literally discovered on YouTube at 12, posting covers from his couch. Coming back to that platform and playing deep cuts from his past on the biggest festival stage in the world probably wasn't random. Some artists you just grow up with, and when they acknowledge that, even a little, it can truly hit different for their fans. Simplistic artistry vs. spectacle. Nostalgia and connection vs. heavy production. A lot of fans are debating it, but there really may not be a right answer.

It was a big month for ticket pricing accountability. Last week, federal jury ruled that Live Nation and Ticketmaster illegally maintained a monopoly over the live events market and overcharged concertgoers by $1.72 per ticket on average. On top of that, Live Nation settled a separate case with Washington D.C. for $9.9 million over Ticketmaster hiding fees until checkout and using fake countdown clocks to pressure fans into buying. StubHub got hit with the same thing — $10 million to the FTC for the exact same practice.

Three separate cases, with the same core complaint of fans feeling misled about what they'd actually pay. The monopoly verdict still has a long road ahead, as a judge has to determine final damages and remedies, which could include a forced breakup and additional payouts. But altogether, this week signaled that the era of junk fees and hidden costs in ticketing is getting harder to defend, and the fans who have been saying something was wrong all along are being proven right.

“Manufactured fandom” is a conversation fans are having right now, and it’s worth paying attention to. A Substack piece and a Billboard interview with marketing agency Chaotic Good pulled back the curtain on how some campaigns build online momentum, from seeding songs into content, partnering with influencers, and scaling comments to, in some cases, running actual fan accounts and participating inside fan communities while operating as a campaign. The reporting connected these tactics to emerging acts like Geese and major pop campaigns. Fans and industry observers online had mixed reactions — not to the marketing itself, but to the line between viral amplification and “manufactured fandom” (posting as fans, without disclosure).

Fan communities are built on trust, and the feeling that the people in them are actually there. When campaign strategy starts operating inside those spaces, it changes what the community actually is, and whether the enthusiasm you're seeing is real or directed. The industry has always worked to build hype, and the fan account strategy is not new. But as fans start to realize what’s happening behind the scenes, the question is whether this version crosses a line from smart marketing into something that undermines the spaces fans built themselves.

At GRAMMYS on the Hill, three AI bills are moving through Congress that would give artists rights over their voice, image, and likeness in AI-generated content, let creators find out if their work was used in AI training, and require disclosure of copyrighted training data. The more artists can protect their work and identity, the more the music and art you love actually belongs to them. If you want to make your voice heard, the Recording Academy has ways to support creators here.

Ticketmaster and Seated announced a partnership that turns sold-out waitlists into a verified ticket distribution channel, with the goal being to get released tickets to real fans instead of scalpers. Fans sign up, verify their identity, and can either get notified when tickets drop or enable an AutoBuy feature, with fulfillment handled by Ticketmaster.

Spotify and NIVA announced a year-long partnership to boost independent venue visibility inside Spotify’s Live Events Feed, making it a little easier for fans to find and show up for the shows that keep local scenes alive.

Thanks for reading Fangirl Forward — where we push fandom forward by connecting fan skills to career pathways, centering fan perspectives in industry conversations, and building more informed, intentional fan communities.

Beyond the newsletter, we publish cultural analysis (Forward Focus), fan-led live event reporting (From the Crowd), and industry explainers (FANFAQ).

Fangirl Forward is part of Fan Fave Media, a creative studio focused on entertainment storytelling, live experiences, and cultural strategy that amplifies emerging voices.

Want to be part of the conversation?

➡️ Get in touch to for a feature interview

➡️ Send in a FANFAQ

➡️ Follow @fangirlforwardhq and @fanfavemedia for updates

New editions publish every other Wednesday.

Outside of concerts or fan conventions, there aren’t really many places for those connections to keep going. Everyone goes back to their own lives, and the community mostly lives online again.

Alesia and Selin — two best friends who connected through fandom — noticed that and built around it. Through irl. fans for friends, they host monthly in-person events across New York and London, from album release parties to casual meetups like picnics and vision boarding sessions.

The point isn’t to sit around talking about an artist all night. It’s to actually get to know each other, and give those connections somewhere to go beyond fandom conversations.

Below, they talk about what gets lost between online and offline fandom, what it takes to actually bring people together in person, and how those connections can grow into something more.

You both met through fandom. What was it about that connection that made you want to keep it going beyond just being fans?

Alesia: I think there’s a lot of intersection. It might start with, oh, we both have this one thing in common, but the idea is that you might have that one thing in common, and then realize you actually have 15 or 20 other things in common as well. So while it started with Harry Styles, we have so many other things in common far beyond that. That’s why we were like, this is a friendship that’s kind of destined for greatness.

Selin: Yeah, and I think also the fact that we became friends through Harry, he’s the kind of artist that’s been in our lives for so many years. Both of us kind of grew up with him, from when he was in a band to his solo career. So even though we only met a few years ago, our upbringing and our interests from childhood to now have been quite similar, because we’ve been in those same spaces — even though we’re from completely different sides of the world. There’s so much you can connect with someone on that level when there’s something you relate to for so many years.

When you think about fandom spaces more broadly, what do you feel like they’re missing right now when it comes to real connection and how did that lead you to creating irl. fans for friends?

Selin: I think sometimes, especially in spaces like stan Twitter, people can kind of hide behind a screen and just say whatever they want. And the community you build online is really special, but you only really see it come together in real life when it’s something like a concert. And if there aren’t concerts happening in your area — especially if you’re from a place where artists don’t really tour — it’s very hard to bring that community into a real-life space.

You can feel really connected to someone online, especially when you share interests that your friends in real life might not have. So I think it’s really important to bring that in person. And like I said, you usually only get that at a tour or a pop-up, so we wanted to create something where that could exist more consistently.

Alesia: Honestly, I was thinking the exact same thing. The reality is, the only time a bunch of fans come together if it’s music related is usually at a concert. So being able to take that same community and bring it into other spaces, whether that’s karaoke, dance parties, Pilates, a hot girl walk, whatever it is — it’s about translating that connection into other aspects of our lives.

You’re doing something different — bringing people together in real life, but not centering the event around fandom itself. How did you land on that model specifically?

Selin: I think like with friendships, it’s important to keep that retention. If you’re going to stay friends with someone, you need different things you can talk about — it can’t just be the fandom. We’ve only done one event in London so far, but in New York there’s been two, and I know Alesia is still connected to people from the first event. That’s because you end up bonding over other things happening in your lives. I think that’s really important.

Alesia: Yeah, I completely agree. If you have one thing in common, you probably have a bunch of other things in common too. And you can’t just always talk about Harry Styles or Olivia Dean or Taylor Swift — eventually that’s going to get old.

Being able to have activities is how real friendships form. I think about Selin — the first time we really hung out, we were doing all sorts of things. I only knew her because she was a fan of Harry, but after that we were going to pubs, thrifting, just doing normal things that weren’t about Harry Styles. So it’s about taking that and bringing it into other spaces.

Selin: Yeah, and when we first met, I followed Alesia on Instagram, but we didn’t interact that much online. She was coming to London for a holiday, and I just DMed her like, stay at mine.

There was that sudden level of trust — you like this person, I like this person, there’s already a community in place. And Alesia was so down, she stayed for like 10 days. There was never a dull moment because we were just discovering all these other things we had in common and there’s suddenly a flourishment of a friendship. And now we speak every day. I think I speak to Alesia more than I speak to my parents.

Alesia: Oh yeah. I speak to Selin more than I speak to pretty much anyone. She’s the first text I see when I open my phone every day.

Selin: And we’ve only seen each other in person, what, three times? But we still have such a strong friendship built from that.

Bringing people together in real life isn’t always as simple as it sounds. Even with a built-in community, there’s still a gap between connection online and showing up in person. What has surprised you or been your biggest lesson amid actually bringing people together in real life?

Alesia: For me, I would never consider myself an organized person. I’m very type B, so having to plan and organize events has definitely been a learning curve. But I think if I’m passionate enough about something, I’ll just figure it out as I go, and I am really passionate about this. So that’s been the biggest lesson for me, just learning how to be more organized and kind of growing with it. Because as it gets bigger, you’re only going to have to take on more responsibility.

Selin: I think one of the hardest parts, especially from our London event in January, is that it can take people a while to come out of their shell. A lot of fandom lives online, so when you bring it into real life, it’s not always easy right away. Especially if you’re coming solo, it can be hard to introduce yourself and build those connections in person, and that’s for any situation. If you go to a networking event, it’s sometimes hard to put yourself out there.

I think it’s sometimes scary to make friends. And when you’re so used to making those communities online, having to translate it in real life can be quite hard, I think.

Alesia: I almost had the opposite experience. At our New York event, I felt like everybody was so outgoing that I was the one trying to keep up. It might just be an American vs UK thing, or a different personality thing. But I think because everyone knew they were there to meet people and knew they all liked Harry, there was this immediate openness. And if you have a few really outgoing people in the group, everyone else just kind of follows along.

I was pleasantly surprised, because I didn’t feel like I had to be the one pulling people into conversation.

I also just think it probably depends on the group. It could be completely different at the next event I have. And for me personally, I lean more introverted, so it’s definitely pushed me to be more open in those spaces.

Selin: Yeah, I think the audiences can be really different depending on the timing sometimes. Like for the New York event, the Harry Styles album had just come out that night, so there was a lot of energy and excitement, and everyone wanted to be involved.

Whereas in London, it was a bit quieter, there wasn’t as much happening yet, so people were slightly shy almost. I think as we get into the summer and tour starts, people here will probably be more in the same kind of spirits.

What has been your favorite event so far?

Selin: We’ve only done three, but probably the second New York one — our Harry Styles album release party.

Alesia: Yeah, I really liked that one. It was a little chaotic for me personally because I had a lot going on, but everyone else was awesome and great. I think Harries are some of the best people, everyone was just really gracious.

Selin: I think that was the first time we saw a proper community come together in real life that we were hosting.

The first event in New York was about 20 people, and the London one was about 20 also. Then suddenly there were hundreds of people in the room, all with this excitement because the album had just dropped that day.

I was actually on the way to Marrakesh and Alesia FaceTimed me from the event to show me what it looked like. I was in the taxi to the airport just feeling overwhelmed with joy.

It was like, wow — I can’t believe we’ve brought all these people together and they’re all just dancing, singing, having the best time.

You see things like album listening parties happen online all the time, but seeing that happen in person felt really special. And I saw so many people tweeting about it, people I’ve followed for years but never actually seen, and suddenly I was like, oh my God, you’re there. That’s so cool.

What are you both fans of right now?

Alesia: I think the new RAYE album is great. The title, This Music May Contain Hope, really feels accurate to me. It’s such a hopeful album. It’s not even just the gospel references, the album itself is the gospel. It just radiates so much joy and hope. So that would be my recommendation.

Selin:
I’m obsessed with it right now. I really appreciate how adventurous the production is — you never really know where each track is going to go next, which makes it such an interesting listen. I’ve also been going back to this Spotify podcast called Dissect, where they break down albums and go into meanings you’d never think about. It’s been really interesting to revisit music with that kind of deeper perspective.

And I’m really excited for the new Olivia Rodrigo album.

Alesia: I’m excited for Beyoncé’s album — you can’t see it, but I’m repping Beyoncé.

Selin: As you should be.

Alesia: It hasn’t been announced yet, but we all know it’s coming.

Selin: I’m also excited for the Met Gala, we might get a lead single that day.

Fandom has long been framed as a space of belonging, and particularly, a place where fans can connect, create, and feel seen through the artists and communities they love. But for some, especially disabled fans, that sense of inclusion doesn’t always extend beyond the surface.

Despite growing conversations around accessibility, much of the music industry still operates at the level of compliance rather than experience, meeting basic requirements without fully considering what it actually means for fans to participate in real time.

Carly Webster has been working to change that — both as a fan and as an emerging professional across the music industry, with experience spanning organizations like HeadCount and Wasserman Music.

At 15, she founded Disabled Music Fans Collective after noticing a lack of representation for disabled fans across music spaces. What began as a fan-led effort has since evolved into advocacy work, alongside her growing experience across the music industry and live events.

Below, Carly shares where the industry is improving, where it continues to fall short, and how fans can play a role in creating more accessible, intentional communities.

You started Disabled Music Fans Collective when you were just 15. What were you noticing in fandom spaces at that time that others seemed to overlook, and what made you decide to actually build something instead of just talk about it?

At that time, I would say it was the peak of my fandom activity, and I was noticing a lot of fan projects and initiatives popping up for LGBTQ+ fans, fans of the global majority and things like that. I thought that was great, but when I really dug in, I didn’t see anything for disabled fans.

My mindset was, yes, we have some regulations that make venues more accessible — but what about fans who, for medical, geographical, or financial reasons, might never be able to make it to a gig?

Especially after the pandemic, there was a bigger opportunity for artists to engage with fans in ways that were not only virtual, but actually accessible. And we’re still seeing artists miss the mark in terms of not using captions on videos and not including image descriptions. Now that we’re out of COVID restrictions in a lot of places, we of course also no longer really have virtual concerts.

So I kept coming back to the idea that we need more representation and a spotlight on this. I had spoken up about it before, but I realized we needed a bigger foundation behind it. I started doing more unofficial fan initiatives, and then once I graduated high school and started doing stuff in the industry, I saw that while people would support the idea, there wasn’t a real path for action or funding unless we had the nonprofit status, so that’s what I did in 2024.

It’s been kind of hard to play that role as a college student as well, but at least I overcame that hurdle. Post-grad I want to put more time and energy into it, because it is something the industry is still really missing.

From what you’ve seen, where is the industry genuinely improving when it comes to accessibility, and where is there still work to be done?

I think the industry is doing really well at recognizing the philanthropic and social impact side of things, whether that’s through tours, merch campaigns, or other initiatives. I love that there’s more of that happening.

But at the same time, we’re kind of missing the point — we’re missing the human experience. I love working with social impact partnerships where I can, but there’s still so much to be done in understanding that accessibility is more than just boxes to check. It has to be a holistic commitment and support for people who are giving their time, money, and energy to these artists.

I would say there’s always a dynamic where bigger companies are going to have more resources to put into accessibility than a really small venue, and that’s totally understandable. I try to hold space for that.

But there’s a difference between using the resources you have to do the best you can in that moment and just completely not doing anything. And I’m not saying that’s the case for every venue, but when larger companies oversee a lot of venues, it can end up being applied inconsistently — which is something I think is trying to be worked on more.

For fans who care about accessibility but don’t know where to start, what’s a small but meaningful action they can take?

Really follow and pay attention to disabled creators and disabled fans. Even if they’re not talking about concert-specific things every day, there’s still so much to learn from their lived experiences.

Also, I think a great way to educate yourself is to look at accessibility standards — not only digitally, but also in your local community. Look at venues there and see if they meet basic requirements. When you go to a show, go with a friend and kind of audit it — take a look at things, write down what you notice, text a friend. Just keep an eye on things.

You don’t necessarily have to do what I do and call everything out, but that sharing of information is such a key part of fandom, and we should use that to our advantage in holding venues and the industry accountable.

There’s always going to be younger fans coming up who are still engaging with fandom, and I don’t want them to feel unseen or excluded because things aren’t accessible.

We’ve had so much time, and accessibility was never meant to be the ceiling. As fans, we really have to take charge of that — because we deserve better for our time, our money, and our energy, and we contribute so much to this industry.

What are you a fan of right now?

I’m really loving the revival of certain styles of music and seeing artists come back in new ways. Like, Hilary Duff is about to go on tour — I wasn’t really old enough to grow up with her music, but I’m like, okay, cool. Good for the millennials.

And then Zayn going on his solo tour. One of my first fandoms was One Direction, so seeing him get to a place where he can say, like, ‘I’m ready to do this,’ that takes a lot of guts. Especially considering everything he’s been through. I’m very proud to see him doing that, and I can only wish him nothing but the best.

I also really love seeing artists speak up about things they care about, especially right now. I started a playlist called ‘Revolution’ because a lot of recent songs feel like they’re about holding people accountable and pushing for a better world.

Career moves, opportunities, and next steps for fans building in media.

Love content creating? Respective Collective, the agency producing fan-driven content at major pop culture events, is hiring for their summer internship program. Apply here.

AEG Presents is hiring summer interns across partnerships, marketing, social media, sustainability, and more. Apply here.

If you’re interested in working behind the scenes in theater and arts marketing, the Public Theater is hiring a Marketing & Communications Associate to support campaigns across digital, PR, email, and live events. This role offers hands-on experience in audience engagement, ticketing strategy, and cultural marketing at one of NYC’s leading arts institutions. Apply here.

Netflix is hiring a Documentary Awards & Publicity Intern to support press strategy, campaign planning, and industry events. The role offers hands-on experience in how films move through awards season and build cultural impact. Apply here.

Thanks for reading Fangirl Forward — where we push fandom forward by connecting fan skills to career pathways, centering fan perspectives in industry conversations, and building more informed, intentional fan communities.

Beyond the newsletter, we publish cultural analysis (Forward Focus), fan-led live event reporting (From the Crowd), and industry explainers (FANFAQ).

Fangirl Forward is part of Fan Fave Media, a creative studio focused on entertainment storytelling, live experiences, and cultural strategy that amplifies emerging voices.

Want to be part of the conversation?

➡️ Pitch a story

➡️ Send in a FANFAQ

➡️ Follow @fangirlforwardhq and @fanfavemedia for updates

New editions publish every other Wednesday.

Despite growing conversations around accessibility, much of the music industry still operates at the level of compliance rather than experience, meeting basic requirements without fully considering what it actually means for fans to participate in real time.

Carly Webster has been working to change that — both as a fan and as an emerging professional across the music industry, with experience spanning organizations like HeadCount and Wasserman Music.

At 15, she founded Disabled Music Fans Collective after noticing a lack of representation for disabled fans across music spaces. What began as a fan-led effort has since evolved into advocacy work, alongside her growing experience across the music industry and live events.

Below, Carly reflects on where the industry is making progress, where it continues to fall short, and how fans themselves can play a role in building more accessible, intentional communities.

You started Disabled Music Fans Collective when you were just 15. What were you noticing in fandom spaces at that time that others seemed to overlook, and what made you decide to actually build something instead of just talk about it?

At that time, I would say it was the peak of my fandom activity, and I was noticing a lot of fan projects and initiatives popping up for LGBTQ+ fans, fans of the global majority and things like that. I thought that was great, but when I really dug in, I didn’t see anything for disabled fans.

My mindset was, yes, we have some regulations that make venues more accessible — but what about fans who, for medical, geographical, or financial reasons, might never be able to make it to a gig?

Especially after the pandemic, there was a bigger opportunity for artists to engage with fans in ways that were not only virtual, but actually accessible. And we’re still seeing artists miss the mark in terms of not using captions on videos, not including image descriptions, and now that we're out of COVID restrictions in a lot of places, we of course no longer really have virtual concerts.

So I kept coming back to the idea that we need more representation and a spotlight on this. I had spoken up about it before, but I realized we needed a bigger foundation behind it. I started doing more unofficial fan initiatives, and then once I graduated high school and started doing stuff in the industry, I saw that while people would support the idea, there wasn’t a real path for action or funding unless we had the nonprofit status, so that’s what I did in 2024.

It’s kind of been hard to play that role as a college student as well, but at least I overcame that hurdle, and post-grad I want to put more time and energy into it, because it is something the industry is still really missing.

At what point did you realize it wasn’t just a fan project, and what did that moment teach you about what fans are capable of building?

I think one of the biggest turning points for me was doing a TED Talk in 2023 about fandom. The mentors and folks helping me prepare it really encouraged me to explain everything in very simple, ‘non-fan’ terms — no jargon, because nobody was going to understand it.

That experience gave me a chance to talk about fandom in a way that wasn’t immediately dismissed. Growing up, I talked about it all the time and wore merch and was always kind of the butt of the joke, because female fans aren’t taken seriously. So being able to say, ‘Hey, this is more than just people tweeting all day, we’re literally able to do so much,” I think I really appreciated that. We're not just hysterics here, we're we're trying to do something.

Especially during the pandemic, we saw that even more clearly. Fans were coming together to raise money, share resources, and support each other in real ways. It showed me that fandom has real power and impact.

Since I’ve graduated high school and done stuff in the industry, I’ve reconnected with a lot of the people that I was in those fan communities with, and there’s more of us trying to do this industry stuff than I ever could have imagined. Now years later, I really root for those peers so much because I know they're trying to accomplish similar things and make sure that fandom stays alive. And that's really all I could ask for.

Fan spaces — both online and offline — often describe themselves as inclusive, and venues often meet the legal minimum. But from your experience, what’s the gap between good intention and actually creating spaces that feel accessible?

I think, and a lot of disabled folks might echo this, spaces are focused on checking boxes rather than humanizing the experience.

It’s very much like, okay, we have to meet these requirements — doorways have to be a certain size, things like that — and that’s all good and great if we can get in the place. But what is the experience we’re walking away with once we’re done with the show?

I had an experience recently where I was attending a show. I hadn’t been to this venue in years and had always had a really great experience. This time, I decided to request the ADA platform because I wasn’t really feeling the pit.

It’s a completely flat platform, slightly raised above the crowd, with chairs. A staff member told me to sit down because I was blocking people behind me, even though no one had actually said anything. After the staff member left, I asked the people behind me if everything was okay, and they said I was fine.

But I was still told that if I wanted to stand, I needed to go to the back, and in a sold-out show, there really wasn’t anywhere to go. That left a sour taste, because it’s one thing to adjust things so everyone can have a good experience, and another to tell a disabled person what they should or shouldn’t do with their body.

And that’s just one experience — most of mine have been really good. But when we focus on checking boxes instead of looking at the guest as a whole person, we miss a lot. Disabled fans are putting in time, money, and energy to be there — sometimes bringing additional support with them — and that’s not going to be one-size-fits-all.

I also saw a different approach when I worked a festival this past summer with an accessibility team that focused on finding the best possible solution in the moment. They emphasized things like harm reduction and being sensory-friendly, and actually having conversations with people instead of shutting things down.

So it’s less about checking boxes and more about asking, what can we do as a team, as a staff, as a community, to make this the best possible experience for everyone?

From what you’ve seen, where is the industry genuinely improving when it comes to accessibility, and where is there still work to be done?

I think the industry is doing really well at recognizing the philanthropic and social impact side of things, whether that’s through tours, merch campaigns, or other initiatives. I love that there’s more of that happening.

But at the same time, we’re kind of missing the point, we’re missing the human experience. I love working with social impact partnerships where I can, but there’s still so much to be done in understanding that accessibility is more than just boxes to check. It has to be a holistic commitment and support for people who are giving their time, money, and energy to these artists.

I would say there’s always a dynamic where bigger companies are going to have a more resources to put into accessibility than a really small venue, and that’s totally understandable. I try to hold space for that.

But there’s a difference between using the resources you have to do the best you can in that moment and just completely not doing anything. And I’m not saying that’s the case for every venue, but when larger companies oversee a lot of venues, it can end up being applied inconsistently — which is something I think is trying to be worked on more.

Advocacy often means educating people repeatedly. What has building and sustaining this work required from you, and how have you learned to protect your energy in the process?

It’s still something that I’m working on, especially as a young professional and someone early in my career. I’ve had to learn to kind of toe the line between, like, okay — can I tell them the cold, hard facts they’re going to understand, or am I bringing too much emotion into it?

And I never want to police how people react, but sometimes I’m like, girl… you should not be yelling and screaming. Not that I’ve done that, but I’ve definitely sent emails where I felt like I came across a little harsh. But at the same time, I’m constantly having to educate people and say the same things, and it’s very tiring.

It requires — and I hate to say it — bureaucracy. Working with red tape is sometimes just part of it. But I’ve also learned how to request meetings and have conversations that don’t feel one-sided.

And a big part of it is picking and choosing my battles. There have been opportunities that were completely inaccessible to me — like not being able to relocate for an internship because of accessible housing, or not knowing if a workspace would actually meet my needs.

There’s also this general rule is to not disclose until you have an offer, but if you disclose after accepting and it doesn’t work out, you’ve kind of lost the chance either way. So it becomes personal advocacy too.

And sometimes, it’s just not worth it. I’ve had several situations where I bring up the same issues to the same people and nothing changes year to year. At that point, I’m like — you know what, not my problem. I’m doing my part by educating and putting in emotional labor that I shouldn’t have to, and what they do with that is up to them.

So especially post-grad, I’m trying to focus on what feels good and protect my mental health, because if I don’t, I can’t keep doing this work. And no one else can be me for me.

I never want to represent the entire disability community, but I also know there are very few people doing this kind of work in the fan space. There are organizations on the artist and industry side, but where is the support for people in the audience So it’s a balance. Sometimes I’m afraid to speak out, and sometimes I’m mad at myself if I don’t. But I’ve had to internalize that if someone responds poorly to a genuine issue, that’s probably not a space I want to be in.

I want to be somewhere that recognizes my work while also supporting what I need to succeed.

For fans who care about accessibility but don’t know where to start, what’s a small but meaningful action they can take?

I would say really follow and pay attention to disabled creators and disabled fans. Even if they’re not talking about concert-specific things every day, there’s still so much to learn from their lived experiences.

Also I think a great way to educate yourself is to look at accessibility standards — not only digitally, but also in your local community. If you live somewhere like Atlanta, look at venues there and see if they meet basic requirements. When you go to a show, go with a friend and kind of audit it — take a look at things, write down what you notice, text a friend. Just keep an eye on things.

You don’t necessarily have to do what I do and call everything out, but that sharing of information is such a key part of fandom, and we should use that to our advantage in holding venues and the industry accountable.

Because there are always going to be younger fans coming up who are still engaging with fandom, and I don’t want them to feel unseen or excluded because things aren’t accessible.

We’ve had so much time, and accessibility was never meant to be the ceiling. As fans, we really have to take charge of that — because we deserve better for our time, our money, and our energy, and we contribute so much to this industry.

What are you a fan of right now?

I’m really loving the revival of certain styles of music and seeing artists come back in new ways. Like, Hilary Duff is about to go on tour — I wasn’t really old enough to grow up with her music, but I’m like, okay, cool. Good for the millennials.

And then Zayn going on his solo tour. One of my first fandoms was One Direction, so seeing him get to a place where he can say, like, ‘I’m ready to do this,’ that takes a lot of guts. Especially considering everything he’s been through. I’m very proud to see him doing that, and I can only wish him nothing but the best.

I also really love seeing artists speak up about things they care about, especially right now. I started a playlist called ‘Revolution’ because a lot of recent songs feel like they’re about holding people accountable and pushing for a better world.

One of the clearest ways fans show love for the artists they care about is by making something of their own. From edits and fan fiction to custom merch, fandom has always been a space where creativity thrives. But when those creations clash with copyright and licensing rules, things can get complicated.

Platforms like Softside are now exploring what it looks like when fan creativity is officially brought inside the system.

Founded by former touring and A&R professional Erin Singleton, Softside is a creator platform that enables fans to collaborate directly with music artists on officially licensed merchandise. Working with artists including Geese, Black Country, New Road, and August Ponthier, the platform supports the full process, including design collaboration, licensing approvals, production, fulfillment, e-commerce management, and revenue sharing.

Below, Erin reflects on what fans understand about creative collaboration, what fairness could look like in fan-artist partnerships, and why stepping outside your comfort zone can be an important part of turning your passion into opportunity.

When you were digging into fan art and merch during the pandemic, what was the moment you realized this was an ongoing problem in the industry that needed a real solution?

I think it was when I started seeing our own clients’ work. It’s one thing to notice it as an outsider fan who just likes fan art in general. But once I actually started seeing fan art and fan merch directly related to some of the artists that I was working with at the talent agency, it was really an eye opener.

We were working on the live tours of maybe 75+ artists, and I was seeing their fans on TikTok, Etsy, and other social media marketplaces making merch for them — especially with the rise of print-on-demand technology. That was the moment I realized there was so much out there directly impacting my clients’ IP and their merch businesses.

And once you start digging and go down that rabbit hole, the floodgates open. You realize how much this impacts other artists as well.

Having spent so much time in fandom spaces, what did you want to make sure wasn’t lost when you turned that experience into a business?

I think it was trying to meet fans where they already were in terms of how they create. For example, when I was first figuring out what Softside would look like — and it was a very rudimentary platform on Shopify with no real tech behind it — something I was reading a lot and hearing from fans was that they already had these beautiful works and portfolios ready for potential collaboration.

Not every fan wants to participate in a design contest, because that requires creating something from scratch. That can take hours or even days, and then it might not get selected.

So to meet fans where they were, we recognized that they had already created really beautiful work, and that should be enough to be considered for collaboration with music artists. If they’re approved, they can then start creating something in a similar style to their portfolio but aligned with the specific project the artist has coming up.

That was really important to us early on — making sure fans felt respected in the creative process, because they’re creatives in addition to being fans.

What do you hope changes about how the industry works with fans over the next few years?

I think just fairness in general. We try really hard to find every possible angle to make a collaboration feel like a true, fair partnership between both the music artists and the creator. For example, we have a royalty system where fans participate in the royalties of each sale.

Some music artists have also paid flat fees on top of that, but at a minimum, we try really hard to make sure that’s maintained in every partnership, with a few exceptions. My goal would be for that to become more of a norm. I think music artists are perhaps more used to just paying a $500 flat fee to a fan. They take the design on the road and can see thousands of units sold without any royalty participation for the designer.

So I think that basic level of fairness will ultimately create a more positive, creative collaboration process for both the music artists and the fan.

For fans who want to turn their passion into something real, what’s one thing you wish you’d understood earlier?

My advice would be to be more comfortable with discomfort when putting yourself out there, because you never know who’s watching. Doing something even if it doesn’t get likes or sales — setting a personal challenge to post new fan art every day on Instagram, even without a following. However that looks for you, even beyond fan art, I think challenging yourself to do something a little uncomfortable and being confident about it is really important for growing your skills, networking, and finding your audience.

The fan conversations and industry decisions shaping how entertainment is experienced right now.

Disney Channel fandom is cyclical. Everyone is talking about the return of Hannah Montana and all of the celebrations centered on its 20th anniversary. But did you also catch the announcement of the Descendants/Zombies/Camp Rock 3 Worlds Collide arena tour? While one generation is celebrating fandom through nostalgia, another generation is experiencing Disney Channel fandom in real time.

The early 2000s were certainly a peak era for Disney, and the stories and fandom experiences from then influenced an entire generation that’s now adults. But while one generation assumes Disney fell off after that time, the reality is the network’s fandom is actively being rebuilt for a new era of young audiences.

As anniversary specials and throwback-driven tours ramp up alongside new franchises and live experiences, it’s worth paying attention to how entertainment companies are learning to monetize memory while cultivating the next generation of fans at the same time.

BTS return brings both massive demand and cultural debate. The group’s first full comeback since military service is drawing global attention, but an animated teaser referencing Howard University has also sparked criticism from some fans who say the depiction didn’t reflect the school’s historical Black identity. For global artists and teams, moments like this highlight the importance of cultural accuracy when storytelling intersects with real institutions and the communities, including fans, who feel connected to them.

Influencers vs. journalists on the red carpet? It’s a question people are asking following the Oscars. It might sound like a general media debate, but it directly shapes how fans experience celebrity culture. Influencer-hosts often bring a more casual, personality-driven interview style — one that can feel fun and relatable, but sometimes lighter on substance and more parasocial-driven. As entertainment coverage evolves, fans are left asking, do we want access and entertainment, or context and real conversation? Ideally, the future of red carpets finds a balance between both.

Fan usage of artificial intelligence is getting…even more strange. AI-generated photos of Zendaya and Tom Holland’s “wedding” recently went viral — convincing enough that Zendaya had to clarify on Jimmy Kimmel Live! that the images weren’t real. As AI tools become harder to detect, moments like this raise bigger questions about consent and how far fans should be able to go in digitally imagining celebrity lives.

Apple Music is centering the concert-going experience. Thanks to a new collaboration with Ticketmaster, fans using the streaming service can now see in the app when an artist is touring near them.

The WNBA’s next chapter is taking shape.The WNBA has officially ratified a new collective bargaining agreement, locking in changes that could reshape player pay, league growth, and long-term fan investment. Read our latest FANFAQ to understand what it means and why it’s a pivotal moment for women’s sports.

Is signed merch losing its meaning? Fans are increasingly questioning the value of signed albums and memorabilia as autopen signatures become more common. At the same time, chasing real-life autographs can create uncomfortable encounters and fuel intense resale markets. So where does that leave fans who want a tangible connection to the artists they support? If a signature isn’t truly personal, does it still hold emotional or financial value?

Career moves, opportunities, and next steps for fans building in media.

Interested in getting hands-on experience at a music festival this summer? Bonnaroo is hiring paid externs in various departments, including Festival Administration, Sustainability Operations, Media Operations, and VIP Operations. Learn more and apply here. C3 Presents, the producer behind music festivals like Governor’s Ball, Lollapalooza and Austin City Limits is hiring for various Premium Staff Opportunities. Learn more and apply here.

Magnolia Pictures is hiring a marketing intern based in NYC to support the studio’s social media campaigns. Apply here.

Live Nation is hiring summer interns across booking, marketing, production, and more. Apply here, applications close April 24.

Vaulted Digital is hiring contractors who are passionate about music and internet culture to help run fan pages and create content across TikTok, YouTube Shorts, and Instagram for artists and creators. To apply, email sara@vaulted-digital.net.

Thanks for reading Fangirl Forward — where we push fandom forward by connecting fan skills to career pathways, centering fan perspectives in industry conversations, and building more informed, intentional fan communities.

Beyond the newsletter, we publish cultural analysis (Forward Focus), fan-led live event reporting (From the Crowd), and industry explainers (FANFAQ).

Fangirl Forward is part of Fan Fave Media, a creative studio focused on entertainment storytelling, live experiences, and cultural strategy that amplifies emerging voices.

Want to be part of the conversation?

➡️ Pitch a story

➡️ Send in a FANFAQ

➡️ Follow @fangirlforwardhq and @fanfavemedia for updates

New editions publish every other Wednesday.

For years, fan-made merch has existed in a cultural gray area — celebrated within fan communities while raising questions about intellectual property, artist control, and how creators should be compensated.

Platforms like Softside are now exploring what it looks like when fan creativity is officially brought inside the system.

Founded by former touring and A&R professional Erin Singleton, Softside is a creator platform that enables fans to collaborate directly with music artists on officially licensed merchandise. Working with artists including Geese, Black Country, New Road, and August Ponthier, the platform supports the full process, including design collaboration, licensing approvals, production, fulfillment, e-commerce management, and revenue sharing.

Below, Erin reflects on building business models rooted in fandom, how fan creativity is reshaping traditional merch pipelines, and how co-creation may define the next phase of audience engagement in music.

For anyone new to your work, how would you describe Softside and what you’re building?

Softside is a creator platform for licensed, fan-designed merch. Everything we do is fan-designed and artist approved. Artists work with their fans on merchandise, and then we take care of all of the logistics on the back end. We handle the production, fulfillment, licensing, revenue sharing, and the overall co-creation process.

When you were digging into fan art and merch during the pandemic, what was the moment you realized this wasn’t just a messy gray area — but an ongoing problem in the industry that needed a real solution?

I think it was when I started seeing our own clients’ work. It's one thing to notice it as an outsider fan who just likes fan art in general. But once I actually started seeing fan art and fan merch directly related to some of the artists that I was working with at the talent agency, it was really an eye opener.

We were working on the live tours of maybe 75+ artists, and I was seeing their fans on TikTok, Etsy, and other social media marketplaces making merch for them — especially with the rise of print-on-demand technology. That was the moment I realized there was so much out there directly impacting my clients’ IP and their merch businesses.

And once you start digging and go down that rabbit hole, the floodgates open. You realize how much this impacts other artists as well.

You started as a fan, then worked inside touring and talent agencies, and now you’re building Softside. Looking back, what do you think fans actually understand better about the industry than people give them credit for?

I think fans are just way deeper in the weeds. There’s obviously a lot of really great technologies and platforms out there now that are trying to go deeper and understand things at a more incremental level. But fans are already there. They’re in the different subchannels and Discords and Reddit threads, talking to each other. They have their own inside jokes and their own fan theories about new music hints. They’re living that community rather than observing it.

So for those reasons, I think they understand — beyond merch — the types of experiences and fan-to-fan and fan-to-artist relationships they want to be having, or are already having but maybe aren’t being noticed enough. There’s a lot to learn from fans because they’re doing what they do best. They’re listening, hanging out together, and building community in a very organic sense.

Having spent so much time in fandom spaces, what did you want to make sure wasn’t lost when you turned that experience into a business?

I think it was trying to meet fans where they already were in terms of how they create. For example, when I was first figuring out what Softside would look like — and it was a very rudimentary platform on Shopify with no real tech behind it — something I was reading a lot and hearing from fans was that they already had these beautiful works and portfolios ready for potential collaboration.

Not every fan wants to participate in a design contest, because that requires creating something from scratch. That can take hours or even days, and then it might not get selected.

So to meet fans where they already were, we recognized that they had already created really beautiful work, and that should be enough to be considered for collaboration with music artists. If they’re approved, they can then start creating something in a similar style to their portfolio but aligned with the specific project the artist has coming up.

That was really important to us early on — making sure fans felt respected in the creative process, because they’re creatives in addition to being fans.

Softside might sound like an open marketplace from the outside, but in practice it’s clearly curated and structured. How did you think about designing a system that allows fans to participate meaningfully — while still respecting IP, artist control, and why not everything can be approved?

I think when you’re trying to build any two-sided marketplace, you need to think about what factors are most important to those two parties. For fans, it was having collaboration options — either being able to submit a portfolio or create original ideas if they do have original designs ready.

For music artists, it was about being able to control what designs are actually going out, because it’s a reflection of their name, likeness, and their business. They didn’t want anything listed in a free-for-all marketplace. They want to be able to curate themselves.

This is a system that works for us right now, but we do see a lot of potential in that evolving — whether fan attitudes shift or music artists become more open to having anything go, as long as the content is appropriate.

There are different ways I can see this developing as our technology improves and as more people adopt the system and understand what it’s about.

What’s been the biggest lesson from building Softside so far?

I think fans are capable of way more than some music artists might initially expect. It’s not that artists look down on their fans or don’t have confidence in them. It’s just such a new way of creating merch designs that sometimes artists go into it pretty blind, not knowing what’s actually going to come out of the process.

As a result, we’ve moved forward with some designs that look very different from the merch they’ve done in the past. It might be a hand-drawn or hand-painted illustration that looks totally different from a more cookie-cutter design or simple logo they’ve used before.

The biggest lesson has really been to trust that process. We’ve seen some of the most experimental designs receive the most positive reactions from fans, and sales have been strong. It’s about trusting the different creative visions people bring. It can really surprise you.

What do you hope changes about how the industry works with fans over the next few years?

I think just fairness in general. We try really hard to find every possible angle to make a collaboration feel like a true, fair partnership between both the music artists and the creator. For example, we have a royalty system where fans participate in the royalties of each sale.

Some music artists have also paid flat fees on top of that, but at a minimum, we try really hard to make sure that’s maintained in every partnership, with a few exceptions. My goal would be for that to become more of a norm. I think music artists are perhaps more used to just paying a $500 flat fee to a fan. They take the design on the road and can see thousands of units sold without any royalty participation for the designer.

So I think that basic level of fairness will ultimately create a more positive, creative collaboration process for both the music artists and the fan.

For fans who want to turn their passion into something real — whether that’s a business or a career — what’s one thing you wish you’d understood earlier?

I think a lot of the concept of the word Softside came from inviting fans to tap into their soft side — their vulnerable side. Creating art in general is a very personal experience, and some people are not used to putting it out there, let alone maybe having it transform into merchandise. I think it’s a new process for both fans and music artists.

So my advice would be to be more comfortable with discomfort when putting yourself out there, because you never know who’s watching. Doing something even if it doesn’t get likes or sales — setting a personal challenge to post new fan art every day on Instagram, even without a following. However that looks for you, even beyond fan art, I think challenging yourself to do something a little uncomfortable and being confident about it is really important for growing your skills, networking, and finding your audience.

What are you a fan of right now? Any campaigns, shows, moments, or trends that have been living in your head lately?

In terms of music, I’ve been listening to Not for Radio’s new album a lot. It’s a solo project from Maria of The Marías, and the album is beautiful. I’ve been loving it. I’ve also been listening to one of our new artist partners, Racing Mount Pleasant. They opened for Geese this past fall, and I’ve been listening to their album a ton lately. I think it’s awesome and really well done.

In terms of TV, I don’t watch a ton. Lately I’ve been getting into longer documentaries. I like shows that feel contained, like a docuseries with a clear timeline that I can watch and move on from. If something has too many seasons, I probably won’t stick with it.

The new deal comes at a time of rapid growth for the WNBA, with rising attendance, viewership and sponsorship investment. Players have pushed for compensation and benefits that better reflect the league’s expanding popularity and business success.

The seven-year agreement will begin with the 2026 season and run through 2032, introducing major changes to salaries, benefits, roster rules and the overall player experience.

Here’s what fans should know.

What actually is a CBA, and why should fans care?

A collective bargaining agreement, or CBA, is essentially the rulebook for how a league operates. It governs salaries, benefits, travel, roster rules and overall working conditions.

League and union leaders say the agreement signals a new era in which players have more financial upside and improved workplace standards.

How will player salaries change?

One of the biggest elements of the new agreement is money…and the salary jump is huge.

Under the previous agreement, the league’s highest-paid players earned just over $240,000 per season, while minimum salaries could fall below $70,000 depending on experience. Many stars had to supplement their income by playing overseas in the offseason.

Starting in 2026, maximum salaries are projected to reach about $1.4 million, with the potential to exceed $2.4 million by 2032. Average salaries could rise to roughly $583,000 in the first year of the deal and eventually pass $1 million. Even minimum salaries are expected to climb into the $270,000 to $300,000 range.

Top draft picks will also see a major financial boost. The projected salary for the No. 1 overall pick in 2026 is around $500,000, a massive increase from past rookie deals that often paid under $80,000.

In addition to those increases, the WNBA plans to implement a first-of-its-kind comprehensive revenue-sharing model, meaning player compensation can grow alongside the league’s business success.

What changes are coming beyond salaries?

The agreement also addresses long-standing quality-of-life issues for players.

League-wide charter travel will now be fully provided, replacing a system that largely relied on commercial flights. Housing will also be provided for all players.

The deal also includes upgraded facility standards, expanded mental health coverage, stronger retirement contributions and better benefits for players who are planning families.

Roster sizes will increase, and new developmental spots will be introduced, creating more opportunities for players trying to break into the league.

The new agreement also allows the regular season schedule to expand to as many as 50 games by 2027 and up to 52 games by the end of the deal.

Why are players calling the deal “life-changing”?

In an interview with USA Today, former Phoenix Mercury star Diana Taurasi referred to the new deal as “life-changing.” Meanwhile, the WNBA referred to it as “one of the most transformational labor agreements ever reached in major professional sports.”

Structural changes, such as revenue sharing and improved workplace standards, could influence future negotiations across women’s sports.

For fans, the new agreement signals that the WNBA’s recent surge in visibility is translating into real change behind the scenes. Higher salaries, better travel conditions and expanded schedules all point to a league that is investing in long-term growth. As the new season approaches, supporters should expect a product that feels bigger, more stable and increasingly central to the sports conversation.

With the new season set to begin on time, fans now have a chance to show just how much the WNBA moment has grown. And buying tickets, tuning in and showing up online will continue to shape what the future of the league looks like.

In many ways, this deal reflects what sustained fan attention can help make possible.

In today’s edition, we’re looking at the growing role of fan creators in the music ecosystem. As social platforms reshape how fans interact with artists, some fan-run accounts are evolving beyond updates and concert clips into real-time information hubs during major pop culture moments.

Haley Hart is part of that shift. She co-runs @theconcertbesties, a fast-growing concert culture account that connects fans around the world through tour updates, concert footage, and community conversation.

Earlier this year, when Harry Styles announced his return and upcoming tour, the platform quickly became a gathering point for fans following the rollout in real time. As ticket demand surged, she helped launch a fan-led global ticket matchmaking system designed to connect fans buying and selling tickets across the tour.

Below, she shares how fan-run platforms build community, her journey building on social media and launching her matchmaking system, and what it looks like when fans start shaping the music industry from within.

Your platform sits at the intersection of fan, media outlet, and community organizer. How do you describe what you actually do?

I think the best way to describe it is that it’s by fans, for fans. I think it’s so important to not only have a platform where you post fun content and engaging things, but to really build community. As a fan myself, experiencing the same things that I’m pushing out to my followers firsthand is really important, so I always want to keep that fan-first perspective as the focus of the account.

I think it’s a special community-building space where we literally have fans from all over the world. A couple weeks ago I did a livestream and people were joining from the Netherlands, Portugal, and so many fun and cool locations. It made me realize that the community is not just something you can get at concerts or events. It’s something that’s digital, and it spans across the globe, which I think is so special.

When Harry Styles announced his tour, your account essentially became an information hub in real time. What were you seeing that made you realize fans needed structure along with their excitement?

I’ve been a Harry Styles fan for about 10 years, so I am very involved in his fandom. During the Love on Tour era a few years ago, I relied on so many update accounts so I honestly have learned so much seeing how those fun and also practical resources impact fans and the whole rollout period.

For me, I just started posting stories saying things like, “Oh my gosh, this is cryptic. I don’t know what this means.” But then it turned into more of a conversation. People were messaging me in DMs, commenting, and I started going live to talk through all these things that were happening.

It shifted from just posting updates to saying, “Let’s go through this together.” Like, “Oh my gosh, Harry has the clock moving to 9 p.m.—what does that mean? What is happening?”

I’ve also connected with a lot of larger accounts directly affiliated with his team on Twitter, so I was able to take information and directly push it out to my followers too.

That created a special connection between me and the people who were also hyped about everything happening, and it also became a resource where people trusted what I was saying. A lot of things were correct because of how the rollout was happening, and I had the resources to push that information out to other fans.

I was once relying on big accounts like HSD and HarryFlorals to push out information that I was sitting there waiting for. Seeing those resources made me say, “I want to be that for other fans too.”

You launched a global ticket matchmaking system within hours. What did building that reveal to you about the gaps fans experience — and what fan-led solutions can do differently?

Fans are ultimately the music industry. The music industry is genuinely made up of fans, and really the product of any artist—promotion, music, touring—is for the fans themselves.

So I think fans saw that there was a problem, and I saw that too. You’re saying this tour is coded with the word “together,” and you want fans to come together and have a special experience. But I saw that wasn’t accessible right now, and that’s really hard—not just in Harry’s fandom, but across fandoms. There are so many tours where music is becoming inaccessible. It’s stepping away from people and becoming more about profit, which is a bummer.

So I said, you know what, I’m going to step up. I connected with Ticketmaster, SeatGeek, StubHub, and Live Nation and asked, “How can we work together to get real fans tickets and make this more accessible again?”

But when those conversations kind of fell through, I said, well, let me take it into my own hands. I asked some friends, “Would this be crazy if I did this?” And they were like, “How can we help you?” It wasn’t, “No.” It was, “Let’s do it together.”

I have six of my amazing friends—many of them college students from all over the country—who came together to say: we’re the fans taking this into our own hands. We’re saying we want this, not just for ourselves. For me, I also wanted tickets to Harry’s tour, but I said honestly I care about so many other people getting tickets and being able to experience the music that was created for the fans.

Harry especially has talked about how he wants his album and his tour to feel like fans are all together in a concert pit, and I thought, well, let’s make that happen.

The ticket box has been such a cool community starter. Not only have my friends and I been on FaceTime for like six hours every night, going through and manually doing all these things, but it’s also become a community-building moment.

I get so many messages, and so many people have connected with me about how even just the effort and initiative has been really inspiring. It’s encouraged them to see how fans can take initiative to make change. I feel like that’s an incredible end goal for me, and I love it. It’s just been such a privilege to do it.

You’ve said fans understand the industry deeply. What role do you think fan creators are going to play in shaping the music industry over the next few years?

I think a lot of fans want to follow accounts they feel the most connected to. You can follow an HQ account, an artist account, or the big-name labels and larger accounts, but at the end of the day those don’t always feel as personal.

I think fans are much more focused on connection. It’s not just, “I’m following this to get information or be sold something.” It’s, “I want to connect. I want to build community. I want to see people in this space who care about the things I care about.”

I also think it’s a great perspective to bring into the industry. When you’re making those connections and working with brands and labels, you can bring that ideation and that flair into those spaces and say, “Hey, this is what works to directly reach fans. This is how you connect with fans.”

Honestly, it makes such a difference, because there are a lot of bigger labels that do care about fan focus and are moving more in that direction. You even see big artists at concerts bringing in fans to do interviews or bringing in fans to showcase the experience, and I think that’s such a cool perspective.

We need more of that. There are so many fans out there who bring really cool ideas to the table and are creative in so many different ways.

I think intertwining that with the professional industry is something I’m really hoping to see more of in the future. I’m really excited to see how things grow and change.

What are you a fan of right now?

Okay, I’m going to be very relevant to the last week. I’m a fan of Charli XCX’s Wuthering Heights album. I think it’s so well done. I’m a Brat truther until the day I die. But I think this new era of Charli stepping into this new musical genre—and the soundtrack—is just so beautiful. I think it’s one of her best eras. I know that’s a hot take, but I’m just so impressed by it, so that’s been on the aux recently. We’re about two weeks away from Harry’s album, so obviously I’m a fan of that too.

Editor’s note: This interview was conducted prior to the release of Harry Styles’ new album.

In the full conversation, Haley also talks about balancing fan advocacy with industry partnerships, why authenticity drives growth in fan spaces, and what running a platform has taught her about the future of fan culture. Read it here.

You can follow @theconcertbesties on Instagram here. Haley also recently launched a new fan-focused account, @fangirl.allthetime, celebrating everyday fandom moments, which you can explore here.

Fan Talk

What fans are saying, questioning, and celebrating across pop culture – and what the industry should be paying attention to.

Do people still care about ballet and opera? Fans say yes. A clip of Timothée Chalamet suggesting in a recent conversation that “no one cares” about ballet or opera anymore has gone viral. That comment quickly circulated across social media, prompting responses from ballet companies, opera houses, performers, and fans defending the art forms. Some organizations responded playfully — even inviting Chalamet to attend performances or offering discount codes in his name — while many fans used the moment to highlight the communities that still show up for these traditions and keep them alive, pushing back on the idea that audiences for the performing arts are disappearing.

Fans are revisiting conversations about celebrity boundaries. The topic resurfaced this week after Chappell Roan shared a video from Paris showing paparazzi and onlookers outside a restaurant as she filmed them and asked to be left alone, saying the group was “disregarding all of my boundaries.” The moment quickly circulated online, with some fans pointing to Roan’s past comments about the pressures of constant public access and how artists advocating for themselves can shift industry behavior. Around the same time, several stars of the wildly popular series Heated Rivalry shared a joint statement condemning hateful comments directed at cast members online, writing that people sharing racist, homophobic, or abusive messages shouldn’t call themselves fans. Together, the moments have sparked wider fan conversations about boundaries, especially as internet culture leans to a more toxic side of fandom, and how closely audiences are watching the way artists are treated both online and in public.

Broadway fans are debating stunt casting, again. The conversation reignited after Megan Thee Stallion was announced to appear as Harold Zidler in Moulin Rouge! The Musical. Celebrity casting has long been part of Broadway’s business model, often bringing new audiences into theatres while generating buzz around established shows. As news of Megan’s run spread, theatre fans once again debated how pop stars and public figures fit into Broadway productions. This time, early fan reaction online has leaned more positive than in some past stunt casting cycles, with many fans expressing curiosity about how the performance will land, and pointing out that casting choices that feel intentional or exciting can help shows reach new audiences as the industry continues to evolve.

Harry Styles’ latest concert is reviving the “phones vs. living in the moment” conversation. Fans attending his “One Night Only” show in Manchester, which was taped for Netflix, were required to place their phones in locked pouches during the performance. Instead, attendees were given disposable cameras to document the night, a creative twist that quickly caught fans’ attention online and led to some pretty cool photos circulating afterward. The move sparked familiar conversation among fans about recording concerts versus experiencing them in the moment. While phone restrictions at shows often divide audiences, many fans said the disposable cameras felt like a thoughtful compromise, letting people capture memories without turning the entire show into a sea of screens.

Industry Moves

From awards to new releases and announcements, these are the entertainment world’s biggest updates fans should know about.

The Live Nation antitrust case is still unfolding. Even after the U.S. Department of Justice reached a tentative settlement with Live Nation earlier this week, more than two dozen states are continuing to pursue their claims that the company has too much control over the live events industry. The proposed agreement would require Live Nation to sell several amphitheaters, cap certain ticketing fees, and allow more tickets to be sold through competing platforms. A federal judge has now ordered both sides to spend the week negotiating a potential deal. If no agreement is reached, the trial is expected to resume next week. If you’re trying to understand why this trial matters for concert fans and ticketing, you can read our full breakdown here.

Paramount wins the Warner Bros. bidding war. Paramount Skydance has reached a deal to acquire Warner Bros. Discovery after Netflix stepped away from negotiations. The proposed merger, worth about $77 billion, would bring together major brands and franchises across both companies — including Warner Bros., HBO Max, Paramount Pictures, and Paramount+. Paramount has already hinted at one major change fans may notice down the line — plans to combine Paramount+ and HBO Max into a single streaming platform, while keeping HBO’s programming team operating independently. The deal still needs regulatory approval before it’s official.

The WNBA’s labor negotiations stretch past the league’s target deadline. The league and players’ union did not reach a new collective bargaining agreement during an overnight bargaining session that stretched into early Wednesday morning. The March 10 target date the league had set for reaching a preliminary agreement — which officials said would help keep the 2026 season on schedule — has now passed, though negotiations are ongoing. Both sides described the talks as productive but acknowledged major issues remain, including revenue sharing and salary structure. With training camps, the draft, and expansion logistics all scheduled in the coming weeks, the timing of a final deal could determine whether the league’s May 8 season opener stays on track. As interest in the WNBA reaches new highs, sports fans should be closely watching how the league balances its rapid growth with players’ push for long-term financial change.

A new awards show is putting the Broadway ensemble in the spotlight. Nominations have been announced for the inaugural Broadway Ensemble Awards, a new initiative created to recognize the chorus performers who help power Broadway musicals but rarely receive individual recognition during awards season. The first ceremony will take place April 6 in New York, honoring standout ensemble performers from the 2025–2026 Broadway season. For fans who know the magic of a musical often comes from the full company onstage, the awards aim to finally give those performers their moment.

The Oscars are this weekend. The 98th annual Academy Awards will air Sunday, March 15 at 7 p.m. ET live on ABC and Hulu, with Conan O’Brien set to host the ceremony. As awards season wraps up, fans will finally see which films and performances take home Hollywood’s biggest honors. If you’re wondering how the Oscars voting process actually works — from nominations to how Best Picture is decided — you can read our breakdown here before tuning in.

Forward Motion

Keep your pop culture career momentum moving forward with jobs, opportunities, events, and practical tips.

📱PEOPLE is hiring an Associate Social Media Editor to help build and grow a new social-first product. The role involves pitching, scripting, filming, and editing short-form video for Instagram, TikTok, and Facebook while tracking platform trends, engaging with audiences, and helping shape the brand’s social strategy. For fans who instinctively understand what makes a pop culture moment go viral, or who are already creating content breaking down celebrity news and internet trends, this kind of role turns that digital intuition into work inside a major entertainment newsroom. Apply here.

🎶 Rolling Stone is hiring a Social Video Producer/Editor to create short-form content across Instagram, TikTok, YouTube Shorts, and more. The role involves shooting, editing, and producing videos translating Rolling Stone’s music and culture reporting for social audiences. Apply here.

🎭 Playbill is hiring a Spring Editorial Intern for journalism students interested in covering Broadway and the theatre industry. The hybrid role includes reporting, writing, research, fact-checking, copy editing, assisting on video shoots and photoshoots, and contributing to social media as the newsroom covers one of Broadway’s busiest seasons. If you’ve ever scrolled through reviews before buying tickets or walked out of a show immediately wanting to talk about it, this is the kind of role where that fandom curiosity can turn into real reporting. Apply here.

🎬 Disney Branded Television is hiring for a Creative Marketing Internship supporting campaigns for Disney Channel, Disney Junior, Disney XD, and Disney+. Interns help edit marketing assets and assist creative teams developing trailers, promos, and social content. Apply here.

Thanks for reading Fangirl Forward, your inside look at the cultural currents connecting fans and the entertainment industry. New editions publish every other Wednesday.

Fangirl Forward pushes fandom forward by connecting fan skills to career pathways, centering fan perspectives in industry conversations, and building more informed, intentional fan communities.

Our ecosystem goes beyond just this newsletter. We also publish essays, interviews and explainers that dig deeper into how fans shape pop culture, navigate the systems behind it, and build influence across three core verticals:

• From the Crowd – first-person fan perspectives

• Forward Focus – cultural analysis and expert interviews

• FANFAQ – a Q&A series demystifying the entertainment industry through fan curiosity

Fangirl Forward is part of Fan Fave Media, a creative studio amplifying emerging voices and entertainment storytelling through original content, live events, and creative strategy.

Want to collaborate, contribute or join our community? We love spotlighting the people and perspectives moving pop culture and fandom forward.

➡️ Pitch a story

➡️ Send in a FANFAQ

➡️ Follow @fangirlforwardhq and @fanfavemedia on Instagram for more stories and event coverage.

These accounts do more than post concert videos or artist updates. They organize communities, track tour information, interpret announcements, and help fans navigate the increasingly complex world of live music. In many ways, they function as informal media outlets built from within fandom itself.

Haley Hart is part of that growing ecosystem. She co-runs @theconcertbesties, a music and concert culture account that has rapidly grown into a global fan community with more than 22,500 followers across Instagram and TikTok spanning multiple artist fandoms. Over the past year, the platform has reached millions of viewers by sharing concert videos, tour updates, and fan-focused content.

When Harry Styles announced his 2026 return and upcoming tour, Hart’s account quickly became a gathering point for fans following the rollout in real time. The moment also led her to help launch a fan-led global ticket matchmaking initiative, connecting fans buying and selling tickets across the tour. For Hart, the experience reflects her belief that the music industry runs on the communities fans build around artists.

Below, she discusses building fan-first media spaces, navigating the responsibilities of running a fast-growing platform, and why fan communities are increasingly shaping the music industry.

Your platform sits at the intersection of fan, media outlet, and community organizer. How would you describe what you actually do?

I think the best way to describe it is that it’s by fans, for fans, which has always been the perspective I’ve wanted the account to have. I feel like there are so many people in our generation who want to be influencers and content creators, especially within the music industry. It’s almost become a cliché thing that a lot of girls in their twenties are trying to do. But I think it’s so important to not only have a platform where you post fun content and engaging things, but to really build community. As a fan myself, experiencing the same things that I’m pushing out to my followers firsthand is really important, and it honestly makes it so easy to do what I do, so I always want to keep that fan-first perspective as the focus of the account.

I think it’s a special community-building space where we literally have fans from all over the world. It’s not just based in the United States. A couple weeks ago I did a livestream and people were joining from the Netherlands, Portugal, and so many fun and cool locations. It made me realize that the community is not just something you can get at concerts or events. It's something that's digital, and it spans across the globe, which I think is so special.

When Harry Styles announced his tour, your account essentially became an information hub in real time. What were you seeing that made you realize fans needed structure along with their excitement?

I’ve been a Harry Styles fan for about 10 years, so I am very involved in his fandom. During the Love on Tour era a few years ago, I relied on so many update accounts, so I honestly have learned so much seeing how those fun and practical resources impact fans and the whole rollout period.

For me, I just started posting stories saying things like, “Oh my gosh, this is cryptic. I don’t know what this means.” But then it turned into more of a conversation. People were messaging me in DMs, commenting, and I started going live to talk through all these things that were happening.

It shifted from just posting updates to saying, “Let’s go through this together.” I think it’s so cool that Harry’s whole slogan this era is “together, together,” because I feel like that’s what my account has turned into—a “together, together” moment where I’ve seen fans come together from all over the world to talk about these cryptic things. Like, “Oh my gosh, Harry has the clock moving to 9 p.m.—what does that mean? What is happening?”

I've also connected with a lot of larger accounts directly affiliated with his team on Twitter, so I was able to take information and directly push it out to my followers too. So it wasn’t just all these cryptic things. I can go back now and say, “Wow, I was right about a lot of these things,” or things that I predicted, which is so cool.

It created a special connection between me and the people who were also hyped about everything happening, and it also became a resource where people trusted what I was saying. A lot of things were correct because of how the rollout was happening, and I had the resources to push that information out to other fans.

I also think it’s beautiful to see the connection I’ve had with other accounts doing this, because I was once in their place. I was relying on big accounts like HSD and HarryFlorals to push out information that I was sitting there waiting for. Seeing those resources made me say, “I want to be that for other fans too.” I think it turned out really cool, and I loved it.

You launched a global ticket matchmaking system within hours. What did building that reveal to you about the gaps fans experience — and what fan-led solutions can do differently?

Fans are ultimately the music industry. The music industry is genuinely made up of fans, and really the product of any artist—promotion, music, touring—is for the fans themselves.

So I think fans saw that there was a problem, and I saw that too. You’re saying this tour is coded with the word “together,” and you want fans to come together and have a special experience between your favorite artist and the fans who love the music. But I saw that wasn’t accessible right now, and that’s really hard—not just in Harry’s fandom, but across fandoms. There are so many tours where music is becoming inaccessible, which isn’t the point of what music is supposed to be. It’s stepping away from people and becoming more about profit, which is a bummer.

So I said, you know what, I’m going to step up and say, if bigger organizations aren’t going to do something about this, then let’s try to. I connected with Ticketmaster, SeatGeek, StubHub, and Live Nation and asked, “How can we work together to get real fans tickets and make this more accessible again?”

But when those conversations kind of fell through, I said, well, let me take it into my own hands. I asked some friends, “Would this be crazy if I did this?” And they were like, “How can we help you?” It wasn’t, “No.” It was, “Let’s do it together.”

I have six of my amazing friends—many of them college students from all over the country—who came together to say: we’re the fans taking this into our own hands. We’re saying, we want this not just for ourselves. For me, I also wanted tickets to Harry’s tour, but I said honestly I care about so many other people getting tickets and being able to experience the music that was created for the fans.

Harry especially has talked about how he wants his album and his tour to feel like fans are all together in a concert pit, and I thought, well, let’s make that happen.

The ticket box has been such a cool community starter. Not only have my friends and I been on FaceTime for like six hours every night, going through and manually doing all these things, but it’s also become a community-building moment.

I get so many messages, and so many people have connected with me about how even just the effort and initiative has been really inspiring. It’s encouraged them to see how fans can take initiative to make change. I feel like that’s an incredible end goal for me, and I love it. It’s just been such a privilege to do it.

You’ve worked with brands like Ticketmaster and SeatGeek, but you’ve also stepped in where fans felt unsupported. How do you navigate being both a brand partner and a fan advocate?

I think the first thing is that a lot of these ticket platforms have reached out to me after seeing what I’m doing, because they recognize that I’m trying to be a resource. They’ll say, “Hey, let’s work together in this way,” and I really appreciate that.

I honestly don’t want to despise those relationships because, at the end of the day, it’s a systemic problem — not a people problem. The people who work at Ticketmaster and these large organizations are not really the problem. If I can connect with them to make things happen and be a resource to help people, I want to build those relationships.

It’s about being able to go to them and say, “Hey, listen, here’s a problem that my followers are talking about. How can I work with you on a bigger scale to address it?” I’m in conversations with Ticketmaster and SeatGeek a lot about those ticket questions currently.

For me, I want to have those relationships, but at the same time, keep it at a point where it’s like, “Hey, you guys also have an opportunity here.” You have more power in your hands than I have in mine. I can do a little bit, and I can do the work myself to manually make a small impact. But building together with those brands—even though they are at the root of the problem—means you can turn those systemic problems around.

They have stepped up to be in contact, and they’re encouraged by the initiatives I’ve been doing, as well as trying to help in the best way they can. I know they also have a lot of limitations, but working with them has been a privilege.

I’m hoping that on a bigger scale, through these conversations, we can make things happen so there isn’t as much of a discrepancy between ticket organizations and fans. Even them wanting to connect, be resources, and do what they can through creators is really encouraging about where we’re headed down the line.

You’ve grown quickly during major pop culture moments. How do you make sure growth doesn’t come at the expense of the fun and relational energy that made it grow in the first place?

I think the growth honestly comes so quickly, to the point where I’m like, oh my gosh, this is just insane. Even from the beginning of December to now, we have almost 10,000 followers on Instagram alone.

I think it’s honestly just the genuine, authentic content. I never want to step away from that. You can have all this polished, brand-focused content where brands are saying, “Hey, can you make this video? Do this video.” But at the heart of it, I always want to stay true to my vision of making it a fan-first, UGC-type account.

I don’t want to sacrifice that by becoming an influencer or becoming this person who cares so much about the growth and impressions. I mean, I do care about those things, but ultimately my followers are at the center of everything I do. I’m not creating for myself. I’m not creating to get noticed by brands or to have all these artist partnerships. I’m creating for the people first.

For me, I was just in a conversation with someone pretty prominent in the industry yesterday about this, and I said that’s where my heart is, and I don’t ever want that to shift. Everyone can promote themselves, everyone can promote and ask for tickets, but at the end of the day, your growth is going to be determined by your purpose. People see the authenticity of your account, and they’re going to want to follow along with that.

We need more of that today, especially in the fan space. I think it’s beautiful to see that fans who don’t have hundreds of thousands or millions of followers still have a voice. They still have an opportunity to do things and make an impact. I think it’s such a special place to be, for sure.

You work in social media professionally during the day and build fan infrastructure at night. What’s one lesson from running your own platform that you couldn’t have learned inside a corporate role?

I think it’s about realizing how much creativity can dictate your success. A lot of times in corporate jobs—especially in social media—things are so tightly controlled that you almost can’t be creative if other people don’t understand it or if it doesn’t fit within the company’s approval process.

A lot of executives are in their 40s or 50s and don’t always understand the things that 20- or 30-year-old fans might understand, so you lose a little bit of that creativity. That said, there are a lot of major music companies that allow creators and social media people to go fully rogue and do amazing things.

But for me, this experience showed that I have the power to make an impact through the content that I create. I don’t feel like I’m in a box. I don’t feel like I have a checklist of things I have to do. If I see something other fans like or something that matters to people, I’m going to hop on that and do it without restraint.

I think it’s beautiful because I’ve never had that before. I’ve never had a platform where I’m genuinely running it and making all the decisions, so that’s the biggest difference I’ve seen.

It’s also very different seeing how a corporate music industry role compares to something that’s fan-focused. You can be more fun. You can be more off the rails. Some of the content I post is very niche, and I’m like, “The girlies might get this. The girlies might not get it.” That’s the kind of thing you can’t always do in a professional setting.

But I think it’s beautiful because now I see the impact I can make as someone who isn’t doing this professionally. It makes me feel like if I go into a professional role, I can say, “Hey, I think we should switch this up,” or change the system a little bit so we bring in a fan-first, authentic perspective.

Ultimately, with social media in the professional industry, everything is for the fans. You can market, make money, and do the sales, but at the end of the day, who is the audience? Who are you doing it for? It’s the fans. I think that’s what I’ve learned the most.

You’ve said fans understand the industry deeply. What role do you think fan creators are going to play in shaping the music industry over the next few years?

I think a lot of fans want to follow accounts they feel the most connected to. You can follow an HQ account, an artist account, or the big-name labels and larger accounts, but at the end of the day those don’t always feel as personal. Not saying all of them don’t, but a lot of the time they’re focused more on a specific goal or reach. They’re trying to market or promote something.

I think fans are much more focused on connection. It’s not just, “I’m following this to get information or be sold something.” It’s, “I want to connect. I want to build community. I want to see people in this space who care about the things I care about.”

Even recently, I’ve been trying to expand beyond music into film, television, books, and other things. I want to show that I’m not just in one niche. I want to show that I care about the things people on the internet also care about.

It’s kind of beautiful to be in your twenties and feel like you’re chronically online and connecting with people that way. I also think it’s a great perspective to bring into the industry. When you’re making those connections and working with brands and labels, you can bring that ideation and that flair into those spaces and say, “Hey, this is what works to directly reach fans. This is how you connect with fans.”

Honestly, it makes such a difference, because there are a lot of bigger labels that do care about fan focus and are moving more in that direction. You even see big artists at concerts bringing in fans to do interviews or bringing in fans to showcase the experience, and I think that’s such a cool perspective.

We need more of that—not just through me and not just because I want to do it, but because there are so many fans out there who bring really cool ideas to the table and are creative in so many different ways.

I think intertwining that with the professional industry is something I’m really hoping to see more of in the future. I definitely think we will, because it’s becoming more and more apparent that fans are very involved in the industry. I’m really excited to see how things grow and change.

What are you a fan of right now?

Okay, I’m going to be very relevant to the last week. I’m a fan of Charli XCX’s Wuthering Heights album. I think it’s so well done. I’m a Brat truther until the day I die. But I think this new era of Charli stepping into this new musical genre—and the soundtrack—is just so beautiful. I think it’s one of her best eras. I know that’s a hot take, but I’m just so impressed by it, so that’s been on the aux recently. We’re about two weeks away from Harry’s album, so obviously I’m a fan of that too.

But I would say most recently it’s been Charli’s Wuthering Heights album and the movie. It flowed so beautifully. It just really made sense. I really appreciate her and her artistry and everything she’s doing within the music industry. I love it.

Editor’s note: This interview was conducted prior to the release of Harry Styles’ new album.

When tickets for Taylor Swift’s record-breaking Eras Tour went on sale in 2022, many fans spent hours in agonizing queues, watched Ticketmaster crash, and then faced prices far higher than expected once they finally reached checkout.

For many fans, that experience wasn’t just frustrating, it led to continued bigger questions about how the entire ticketing system works. Why does one company seem to control so much of the concert experience? Why are ticket onsales so challenging, and why do they often lead to tickets in the hands of scalpers and not fans? Why does buying tickets often feel like navigating the same platform with very few alternatives?

While the frustrating process to get tickets has been documented by fans all over the internet, it also sparked congressional hearings, fan-led lawsuits, and renewed scrutiny of the company at the center of the modern ticketing system: Live Nation.

Now, years later, that scrutiny has turned into one of the biggest legal battles the live music industry has ever seen. This week, a federal antitrust trial began in New York that could potentially break up Live Nation and its ticketing arm, Ticketmaster.

Here’s what fans should know.

Why is the government suing Live Nation?

The U.S. Department of Justice, along with attorneys general from 39 states and Washington, D.C., is accusing Live Nation of illegally dominating the live music industry.

Essentially, the government argues that Live Nation controls too many parts of the concert business at once — including promoting tours, managing artists, operating venues, and selling tickets through Ticketmaster.

According to the lawsuit, that level of control allows the company to push artists, venues, and promoters into using its services even when competitors exist.

Ticketmaster already handles around 80% of primary ticket sales in the U.S., while Live Nation promotes many of the country’s biggest tours and owns or controls hundreds of venues across North America. Prosecutors say those overlapping roles make it extremely difficult for competitors to gain a foothold in the market.

Live Nation denies those monopoly claims and says the live events business is actually more competitive than critics suggest.

How are Live Nation and Ticketmaster connected in the first place?

Live Nation and Ticketmaster were originally separate companies. Ticketmaster dominated ticket sales, while Live Nation focused on promoting concerts and operating venues.

In 2010, the two companies merged in a move that immediately raised alarms from artists and lawmakers who worried it would give one company too much power over live entertainment.

The Justice Department ultimately approved the merger, but only under certain conditions meant to prevent the new company from using its influence unfairly.

Now, prosecutors say Live Nation didn’t follow those conditions and used its position to squeeze out competitors.

Ironically, that means the government now has to argue in court that approving the merger in the first place may have been a mistake.

What exactly is Live Nation accused of doing?

The case centers on a few key claims about how Live Nation operates across the concert ecosystem.

One allegation is that Live Nation pressures artists to use its promotion services if they want access to its large network of amphitheaters and major venues. In legal terms, that’s called “tying,” when a company forces customers to buy one service in order to get another.

Another claim focuses on Ticketmaster’s contracts with venues. Prosecutors argue that Live Nation pushes venues into signing exclusive ticketing deals, limiting their ability to work with competing ticket platforms like SeatGeek.

According to the lawsuit, venues that choose competitors risk losing access to major tours promoted by Live Nation.

In one example expected to come up during the trial, Brooklyn’s Barclays Center switched its ticketing partner from Ticketmaster to competitor SeatGeek. After the change, the arena reportedly lost access to some concerts promoted by Live Nation before eventually returning to Ticketmaster.

Prosecutors say situations like that demonstrate how Live Nation can use its control over tours and venues to discourage companies from working with rival ticketing platforms.

Live Nation disputes these claims and says venues often prefer exclusive ticketing deals for practical business reasons, not because they’re being forced.

Could Live Nation and Ticketmaster actually be broken up?

It’s possible. If the government wins the case, the judge could order what’s known as a structural remedy, basically forcing the company to change how it operates. That could mean separating Ticketmaster from Live Nation entirely.

Breaking up the companies would dramatically reshape the live music industry, potentially allowing more ticketing companies and promoters to compete for tours and venue contracts.

However, that outcome is far from guaranteed. The judge could also decide to simply restrict certain business practices instead of splitting the companies apart.

And even if Live Nation loses, the company could still appeal the decision.

What does all of this mean for fans?

Contrary to popular belief, the lawsuit itself does not directly focus on ticket prices. In fact, earlier this year a judge dismissed claims that Live Nation’s conduct directly caused higher ticket prices for fans.

But the case still has major implications for how fans experience concert onsales.

If you’ve ever wondered why so many major tours seem to go through Ticketmaster — or why some venues suddenly switch ticketing platforms — those questions are part of what this trial is trying to answer.

Supporters of the lawsuit argue that if Ticketmaster faced more competition from other ticketing companies, it could lead to lower fees, better technology, and more transparent ticketing systems.

Critics, Live Nation included, say breaking up the company wouldn’t actually solve the problems fans care about most, like high ticket prices or limited supply for massively popular tours.

Either way, the trial has the potential to reshape the infrastructure behind the entire concert industry.

For fans who spend hours in queues, refresh presales, or navigate resale markets just to see their favorite artist live, the outcome could eventually change how tickets are sold, as well as who controls that process.

For now, the case is expected to last about five to six weeks, with executives, industry leaders, and possibly musicians themselves taking the stand. Depending on what happens in that courtroom, the future of how concert tickets are sold could look very different.

In today’s edition, we’re examining what it actually means to be a “professional fan” in the journalism industry. As fan culture becomes more visible across media spaces, there’s an ongoing tension between enthusiasm and expertise. But loving music doesn’t get in the way of good journalism. In many cases, it can make your work even better.

J’na Jefferson is a multidisciplinary writer and producer with more than a decade of experience in music journalism. Her work has appeared in Rolling Stone, Billboard, USA Today, and Harper’s Bazaar, and she has interviewed artists ranging from Ciara and John Legend to Doechii and Tate McRae. She has also taught music reporting at the Craig Newmark Graduate School of Journalism, bringing her industry experience into the classroom to help others grow too.

Below, she shares how she balances admiration with professionalism, approaches sensitive topics with care, and keeps cultural context at the center of her reporting.

You’ve been described as a “professional fan” before. When you hear that, what does it mean to you, and do you think there’s any misconceptions about that?

I love being a professional fan because, above all, what I care about is music. I love being able to call myself a journalist, and I love the doors journalism has opened. But before any of that, I was someone who just loved music. I don’t think I’ve ever run into misconceptions, but there’s definitely a time and place to flaunt excitement. So it’s about peppering in bits of information about the things I’ve learned and the things I know when I can in certain settings, but for the most part, just letting people learn on their own and putting them on if they ask.

When you’re interviewing artists you genuinely admire, what helps you stay present and intentional in the moment?

I just have to tell myself, this is just a regular person with a cool job. My first big kid interview was in 2016 with JoJo. I remember thinking, okay, this is going to be cool. Who doesn’t love JoJo? She’s such an inspiration. But she is just a regular person with a cool job. From that moment on, I was like, I will probably never feel starstruck again, because I know what I have to do. In the moment, you just talk to them like a normal person.

There’s often an expectation in music journalism to “dig deep” and get something revealing, especially in a landscape where fans feel very connected to artists. How do you balance that with respect?

I think it’s because I know what kind of journalist I am. I’m trying to get better about being the one who gets it rather than being the one who puts it out. I don’t want to be the one who puts it out.

For instance, say you’re interviewing someone like Harry Styles. Liam Payne passed away almost a year and a half ago now, and that was a big topic among One Direction fans. So I think if I were to ask a question about Liam, I would have to be very, very careful about being like, “Oh, Harry Styles talks about Liam,” as opposed to being like, maybe he had a comment on it. I think people want to get the scoop. They want to be the first. But when it comes to certain topics, I wouldn’t be in a rush to ask about certain things, because when he goes on his press tour, he’s not going to answer questions about what’s going on with One Direction. He’s going to answer questions about his music.

Same thing with Ciara. I interviewed Ciara a couple of months ago, and I had seen a tweet where someone was just like, “See, this is actual journalism. You guys probably would have asked her about being a WAG.” And it’s like, that’s the last thing I think about when I think about Ciara, because she has this huge, long career. Let’s focus on what’s actually happening.

You just have to recognize what is going to be worth it in the end. And you also want to make sure that your guest feels comfortable, because this is their whole career. So I think that would probably be my advice: focus on the craft, and everything else — just leave that to the people who want that tea.

You also write about music in the context of race, gender, sexuality, and identity. How does that shape the way you report?

I think before anything, obviously, I am a Black woman. We’re taught from a very young age, this is you, this is the world. You might not get everything that you want, but that doesn’t mean you stop being who you are.

When I first started in journalism, I definitely just wanted to talk to the cool people. But I think it was honestly the election of 2016 that made me recognize I could do more with the gift I have as a writer, and with my experiences growing up, to make a difference.

I don’t want it to just be, “Oh, I wrote this thing.” I want it to be, I wrote this because I felt this. I wrote this because I heard this song and it made me think about the larger picture that’s going on.

From there, that changed how I approach writing about everything. I don’t think I can write about just any old thing. I really have to think about the intricacies of the music, the culture, the societal implications. There are so many layers that need to be explored, because music is really a snapshot of the times that we’re living in. And if I can help one person contextualize the thing they love in a way that’s approachable and understandable, but still keeps my voice and opinion intact — that makes me feel good.

What are you a fan of right now?

I like Zara Larsson a lot. She’s such a star. I first heard her in 2016 with “Never Forget You,” and I’m glad she’s having a renaissance right now. I’ve been going to the gym a lot, so I’ve been in my female empowerment baddies era — Victoria Monét, Megan Thee Stallion. They make me want to go harder for myself and just be the best version of who I am. I just listened to Monaleo for the first time — she’s a female rapper, she’s pretty good. Sault just came out with a new project. They’re like a funk/jazz, mysterious group, super cool. I really like Jacob Banks. UK musicians have been taking me there lately — I’ve been listening to Sasha Keable a lot. Bruno Mars is coming out with his album, so I’m mentally preparing. I got tickets to the tour, and Raye is the featured guest, so I’m really excited. Also Alemeda, she’s pop-rock and angsty. Very cool vibes.

In the full conversation, J’na also talks about tracking music trends, red carpet professionalism, and why music journalism is far more rigorous than people think. Read it here.

Explore more of J’na’s work: She’s interviewed artists like Doechii, Ayra Starr and Tate McRae, and written cultural deep-dives for MTV, Billboard, and Miami New Times. You can browse her portfolio here and Substack here.

Heated Rivalry: A Fandom Love Story in Five Acts

Every love story has a beginning. A spark, or a meet cute moment where something goes from casual interest or attraction to full commitment and true love.

This one started with a hockey romance, and grew into sold-out club nights, viral lookalike contests, podcasts, fan edits, and even career breakthroughs. This Forward Focus explores how the Heated Rivalry fandom moved from screen to real life — from sold-out Club 90s DJ nights to viral NYC fan events — speaking with the creators, organizers, and fans turning the show’s energy into something tangible. Read here.

Fan Talk

What fans are saying, questioning, and celebrating across pop culture – and what the industry should be paying attention to.

Disney Channel nostalgia is continuing to have a moment. Disney+ just announced a Hannah Montana 20th anniversary special, featuring a live studio audience interview with Miley Cyrus and recreated sets from the original show. At the same time, Hilary Duff is fully back in her music era, selling out shows in cities across the country, including NYC’s Madison Square Garden where she had to add a second date after tour queues reportedly hit over 100,000 people. Between half a billion hours streamed for Hannah Montana on Disney+ and fans showing up hard for Duff, it’s clear millennial and Gen Z fans are still deeply invested in the stars who raised them.

America’s Next Top Model is back in the conversation, and so is audience accountability. Netflix’s Reality Check: Inside America’s Next Top Model has become a major talker, revisiting some of the show’s most controversial moments. While former models opening up have been widely praised, Tyra Banks’ comment that escalating drama happened because “viewers wanted more” has sparked a bigger debate online. When reality TV pushes ethical boundaries, are audiences just watching, or are fans part of what keeps those moments profitable?

Fans are connecting Manon’s hiatus to a bigger pattern. After KATSEYE announced that Manon would be taking a hiatus to focus on her health, online reaction escalated quickly. Fans have flooded the group’s comments with boycott threats, questioning the label’s statement and pointing to differences between Manon’s message and the company’s wording. While no additional details have been confirmed about Manon’s situation, the moment has clearly tapped into something deeper. Manon has previously spoken about facing racism-fueled hate, and fans have begun drawing parallels between her experience and those of other Black women in girl groups, including Normani (Fifth Harmony) and Leigh-Anne Pinnock (Little Mix). In recent days, Black artists have also publicly shown support, amplifying online conversations that have resurfaced long-standing discussions about stereotypes, visibility, and how the only Black member in a group is often portrayed and protected — or not — by both labels and fandoms. Whether or not this situation turns out to be what fans fear, the intensity of the reaction shows how protective fans feel, and how closely they’re watching how artists are treated.

Industry Moves

From awards to new releases and announcements, these are the entertainment world’s biggest updates fans should know about.

Agency shakeup continues. You may have seen an artist you follow post about leaving or denouncing Wasserman in recent weeks. Several major artists, including Chappell Roan and Laufey, have formally left the agency as it moves toward a sale and expected rebrand amid leadership controversy. While representation changes don’t immediately affect tours or releases, they can shape long-term strategy and partnerships — so this is something to keep watching.

Apple Music and TikTok are testing new features that would let users stream full songs directly inside TikTok and join group “Listening Parties” within the app. If it rolls out widely, it could make music discovery even more social, and keep fans inside the platforms they’re already using.

ESPN is launching “Women’s Sports Sundays” this summer, dedicating primetime coverage to WNBA and NWSL matchups in one of its biggest investments yet to women’s sports. At the same time, the WNBA has told players a new collective bargaining agreement must be reached by March 10 to avoid impacting the 2026 season — a reminder that as women’s sports gain more fans and visibility, the fight over how players are paid and supported is still very real.

Localized ticketing is still on the table. For the first two hours of ticket sales in Fayetteville, J. Cole limited purchases to billing addresses within a 30-mile radius of the city. It’s not something we see often, but it gave fans in the rapper’s hometown a head start, and shows to fans everywhere how targeted ticketing options can exist. With ongoing frustration around ticketing, it’ll be interesting to see whether more artists experiment with this approach in the future.

Fandom Spark

Featuring the standout fan projects and industry tactics igniting connection right now.

Artists are hitting the road to promote their new albums in some pretty cool ways right now. To promote his new project The Fall Off, J. Cole has been pulling up to cities in his old Honda Civic, selling physical copies out of the trunk like he did before the fame. And in Silver Spring, he took it a step further, picking a few fans up and driving around playing the album for them.

Meanwhile, Megan Moroney is in the middle of her “9 Cities. 9 Days.” run for Cloud 9, playing her album from top-to-bottom and selling tickets to fans for only $9 (purchases limited to mostly in-person). Fans have been lining up early just to be part of it.

Both approaches feel different from the usual polished press tour. They’re smaller, more personal, and built around fans actually being part of the moment instead of just consuming it. And they require something from the artist, too. Driving fans around in your car isn’t exactly low-effort. Playing nine cities in nine days for $9 tickets is exhausting. But that’s kind of the point. They’re leaning in and meeting fans where they are in order to create experiences people can share, talk about, and remember — whether they were there in person or watching it unfold in real time.

Forward Motion

Keep your pop culture career momentum moving forward with jobs, opportunities, events, and practical tips.

🎵HeadCount is hiring paid NYC-based interns across Music & Politics, Brand Partnerships, Digital & Communications, Artist Relations, Graphic Design, and Voter Engagement — with opportunities that put you at concerts, festivals, and cultural campaigns bridging pop culture and civic action. If you’ve ever felt the power of a live show and wondered how that energy could shape something bigger, this is how you can turn fandom into direct impact. Apply here.

🎥 Warner Bros. Discovery is still accepting applications for select summer internships in graphic design, creative affairs, marketing and social media. If you’re looking to get inside how major franchises and campaigns are built, this is where that work starts. Apply here.

📺 Versant — the parent company behind brands like E!, SYFY, USA Network, Fandango and Rotten Tomatoes — is hiring summer interns in marketing and program strategy, offering hands-on experience in how film and TV campaigns reach audiences. If you’ve ever live-tweeted a premiere, tracked box office numbers, or scrolled timelines and Letterboxd for reviews before buying a ticket, this is the side of the industry that shapes those fan moments. Apply here.

🎭 New York Theatre Workshop’s paid 2050 Administrative Fellowship is now open for the 2026–27 season, offering underrepresented early-career creatives hands-on experience in Artistic, Development, Education & Engagement, or Marketing within one of NYC’s most respected nonprofit theatres. If you’ve ever left a show wondering who makes the magic happen behind the scenes, this is a direct path from audience member to industry insider. Apply here.

More from Fangirl Forward

Recently published or currently relevant stories from our site.

FANFAQ: What Does It Take for Broadway to Cancel Performances? — A blizzard in New York City this weekend caused Broadway to shut down. Learn how it happened. Read here.

Lauryn Love on How Pop Culture Stories Are Shaped Behind the Scenes — The publicist shares what makes campaigns resonate and how early-career creatives can better understand the industry they’re trying to enter. Read here.

Thanks for reading Fangirl Forward, your inside look at the cultural currents connecting fans and the entertainment industry. New editions publish every other Wednesday.

Fangirl Forward pushes fandom forward by connecting fan skills to career pathways, centering fan perspectives in industry conversations, and building more informed, intentional fan communities.

Our ecosystem goes beyond just this newsletter. We also publish essays, interviews and explainers that dig deeper into how fans shape pop culture, navigate the systems behind it, and build influence across three core verticals:

• From the Crowd – first-person fan perspectives

• Forward Focus – cultural analysis and expert interviews

• FANFAQ – a Q&A series demystifying the entertainment industry through fan curiosity

Fangirl Forward is part of Fan Fave Media, a creative studio amplifying emerging voices and entertainment storytelling through original content, live events, and creative strategy.

Want to collaborate, contribute or join our community? We love spotlighting the people and perspectives moving pop culture and fandom forward.

➡️ Pitch a story

➡️ Send in a FANFAQ

➡️ Follow @fangirlforwardhq and @fanfavemedia on Instagram for more stories and event coverage.

In an era where fandom is increasingly visible across media — from viral red carpet clips to personality-driven interviews — the expectations placed on music journalists are shifting. Yes, there’s a high focus emphasis on virality and enthusiasm. But the craft does still matter.

With more than a decade in music journalism, J’na Jefferson has built her career balancing cultural awareness with a deep respect for the artists she covers. Her work has appeared in Rolling Stone, Billboard, USA Today, MTV, and Harper’s Bazaar, and she has interviewed artists ranging from Ciara and Sting to Doechii and Tate McRae. Her reporting frequently situates music within larger conversations about race, gender, and identity. She has covered red carpets, contributed commentary to BBC platforms, and taught music reporting to students at the Craig Newmark Graduate School of Journalism.

Described as a “professional fan,” Jefferson sees no contradiction between loving music deeply and reporting on it seriously. For her, admiration is a starting point, not a substitute for discipline.

Below, she reflects on interviewing artists she admires, navigating gossip and virality culture, tracking cultural trends, and why keeping the craft first continues to define her work.

You’ve been described as a “professional fan” before. When you hear that, what does it mean to you, and do you think there’s any misconceptions about that?

I love being a professional fan because, above all, what I care about is music. I love being able to call myself a journalist, and I love the doors journalism has opened. But before any of that, I was someone who just loved music.

I don’t think I’ve ever run into misconceptions, but there’s definitely a time and place to flaunt excitement. Of course, not everyone is that deep in the weeds. So it’s about peppering in bits of information about the things I’ve learned and the things I know when I can in certain settings, but for the most part, just letting people learn on their own and putting them on if they ask. I guess the misconception would be that everyone who has a very strong interest in something could always be perceived as “holier than thou” when it comes to their interests. So definitely knowing when and where to flaunt it would probably be one of the things that we have to learn as people who are in our profession.

When you’re interviewing artists you genuinely admire, what helps you stay present and intentional in the moment?

I just have to tell myself, this is just a regular person with a cool job. I’ve been telling myself that since I first started.

I started at Vibe magazine, and my first big kid interview was 10 years ago this month, in 2016, with JoJo. I remember thinking, okay, this is going to be cool. Who doesn’t love JoJo? She’s such an inspiration. But she is just a regular person with a cool job. From that moment on, I was like, I will probably never feel starstruck again, because I know what I have to do. After all is said and done, I can be like, okay, I did it. But in the moment, you just talk to them like a normal person.

How would you say deep familiarity with an artist’s work and their world changes the kinds of questions you’re able to ask compared to someone coming in with less context?

I think it really all comes down to the research. I could have an interest in somebody, and then when I get deep in the weeds, realize I know a little bit more than I knew previously. And that can open up another group of questions that I might already have. Now that I know a little bit more, it's like, okay, this can lead me into other questions that I might be able to lead with or segue into.

I feel like a lot of people who may not have the acumen to be interviewing people with in-depth care and analysis might ask very surface-level questions. But I think that people who have a genuine interest in something, rather than someone who is just like, “I want to interview this person because they’re this person,” it opens up a very large portal to being like, okay, there are so many things that can be asked instead of just, “What inspired you for this?”

I encourage everyone who wants to go deeper with their interviewing skills or their journalism skills to really immerse themselves in an artist’s work. Go deeper than that. If there’s a question that you’re like, okay, I want to ask it, Google it. Has this question been asked before? If you can’t find it, I think that gives you pretty good leverage to really go deeper with these questions and just see how far you can take it — of course being really cognizant of certain topics or conversations or moments in their career and in their life that they might not want to tap into.

There’s often an expectation in music journalism to “dig deep” and get something revealing, especially in a landscape where fans feel very connected to artists. How do you balance respect for artists with the responsibility to still push for honesty and insight?

I think it’s because I know what kind of journalist I am, and I know what kind of journalist I’ve built myself up to be. Don’t get me wrong, I do love gossip. I’m trying to get better about being the one who gets it rather than being the one who puts it out. I don’t want to be the one who puts it out.

For instance, say you’re interviewing someone like Harry Styles. Liam Payne passed away almost a year and a half ago now, and that was a big topic among One Direction fans. So I think if I were to ask a question about Liam, I would have to be very, very careful about being like, “Oh, Harry Styles talks about Liam,” as opposed to being like, maybe he had a comment on it. I think people want to get the scoop. They want to be the first. But when it comes to certain topics, I wouldn’t be in a rush to ask about certain things, because when he goes on his press tour, he’s not going to answer questions about what’s going on with One Direction. He’s going to answer questions about his music.

Same thing with Ciara. I interviewed Ciara a couple of months ago, and I had seen a tweet where someone was just like, “See, this is actual journalism. You guys probably would have asked her about being a WAG.” And it’s like, that’s the last thing I think about when I think about Ciara, because she has this huge, long career. She just had an album that came out. She has all these songs coming out. Let’s focus on what’s actually happening.

You just have to recognize what is going to be worth it in the end. And you also want to make sure that your guest feels comfortable, because this is their whole career. They don’t want to talk about the things that are making headlines if it’s something that has nothing to do with the work that they’ve worked so hard to perfect and strengthen and grow and mold.

So I think that would probably be my advice: focus on the craft, and everything else — just leave that to the people who want that tea.

We’ve been seeing more virality-driven moments on red carpets—people chasing a clip, or letting personal fandom take over. What do you think professionalism should look like in those spaces, and what do these changes reveal about the culture right now?

I totally understand the changing landscape, because obviously if you have a following and brands are converting to TikTok, social media, television — these quick hits — they’re going to want someone who has personality.

Not a lot of people who are trained in journalism are going to be willing to be on TikTok or television. That’s just not what we were trained to do. So I understand the push for people who are a little bit more, I guess, palatable — people who already have a following and have people who are interested in what they have to say. But that does not translate into the actual craft of journalism. It takes time. There are people who fall into it and they're good at it, but then you see people who’ve practiced and studied — they are journalists down. You can tell the difference in the questions. They're a little bit more thorough. They're more thoughtful.

Seeing levels of unprofessionalism from certain influencers who have this kind of access does strike a sour chord, because there are people who do this really well and aren’t being given the chance.

I think it was last year or two years ago — there was a red carpet reporter interviewing Megan Thee Stallion and she said, “Every time I hear your music, I just want to beat someone up and fight.” Megan’s whole brand is empowerment, strength, sexuality, being proud of the skin you’re in. She’s never had a song about wanting to beat women up and fight, especially as an abuse victim. That’s the kind of nuance that’s not being captured that makes it all the more obvious. And that’s why a push for having real journalists back in these spaces is imperative.

We’re in a time where a lot of things get misconstrued. Someone can say one thing and it can start a complete firestorm. So being able to recognize nuance and remembering that we are literally on the carpet to do our job — of course it’s a fun job, but it’s still a job — matters.

That’s also what being a professional fangirl is about. I wouldn’t say I get starstruck, but there is a certain level of respect I have for every person I’ve interviewed. I’m not going to say, “Can I take a picture with you?” Unless I cannot pass up this opportunity. But that is after I do the interview, I'm like, okay, I've interviewed this person. They have a little time left in their schedule. Can we take a cute pic? And that's it.

I’m not going to ask them to sign something. For me, the souvenir is the fact that I got to interview someone whose work has touched me and other people. That’s my souvenir. I don’t need a memento. My memento is the work I’ve produced. The fluttery feeling in my heart that I’m still doing something I really like to do. That I got to speak to Ciara. I got to speak to Chance the Rapper. Like there are these people who I'm like, I've been looking up to for so long. I love what they do. I respect their craft, and I can speak to them. That’s enough for me.

You’ve interviewed artists at different stages of their careers. What practices or habits keep you plugged into trends in a way that helps you recognize when an artist, sound, or moment is on the verge of breaking?

I think just being such a consumer of music for all of this time, I’ve seen how things ebb and flow.

Right now, the Y2K trend is really big. Someone told me a long time ago, every 20 years, it all comes back around. So we’re in that moment now. 2006 was 20 years ago. I wouldn’t be surprised if some sort of snap sound came back — not “lean wit it, rock wit it,” but that kind of vibe bubbling back up. The need for nostalgia is so strong.

At the same time, we’re getting people trying to reinvent their own wheel, taking what they’ve done and amplifying it. This is why I really wish MTV and VH1 were still a thing. The pop culture education has kind of been wiped out, but there are so many moments where someone does something and I’m like, that’s a direct callback to this. A couple years ago at the VMAs, Tate McRae wore this very lacy number, and I was like, that’s Britney Spears at the VMAs. And people were like, what? And I’m like, everything old is new again.

If we keep that mindset — that everything is a reinvention of the wheel — it helps you figure out what trends are going on.

The last two or three years, pop is having its moment. I think R&B has always had a moment, but people overlook it because it’s not as energetic as pop or not as bold as hip-hop. It’s always just been in its lane. Hip-hop is going to fall back and then come back again. I just don’t think it’s right now. I also think people are yearning for what feels real. What’s going on in the country doesn’t always reflect what hip-hop is trying to promote — money, cars, all of that — and that’s not necessarily what people are soaking in right now. So things are going to change again. There’s going to be a lot of breaking down and building back up.

History definitely kind of repeats itself.

You also write about music in the context of race, gender, sexuality, and identity. How does paying attention to those bigger cultural conversations shape the way you report and tell stories?

I think before anything, obviously, I am a Black woman. We are taught from a very, very young age, this is you, this is the world. You might not get everything that you want, but that doesn’t mean you stop being who you are.

My mom was very big on making sure my sister and I were deep in our communities and educated about what’s going on in the world — and what’s going on in our own communities, whether that’s within our demographic, people our age, within our race and our background.

So I don’t know what other way I would write if I wasn’t writing about what’s actually happening.

When I first started in journalism — and I’ve grown a lot — I definitely just wanted to talk to the cool people. I was like, I want to talk to this person because they’re big. I want to talk to that person because they’re trending. But I think it was honestly the election of 2016 that made me recognize I could do more with the gift I have as a writer, and with my experiences growing up, to make a difference.

I don’t want it to just be, “Oh, I wrote this thing.” I want it to be, I wrote this because I felt this. I wrote this because I heard this song and it made me think about the larger picture that’s going on.

From there, that changed how I approach writing about everything. I don’t think I can write about just any old thing. I really have to think about the intricacies of the music, the culture, the societal implications. There are so many layers that need to be explored, because music is really a snapshot of the times that we’re living in.

So when Harry Styles came out with “As It Was,” why did he write that? When Kehlani came out with “Folded,” what did we need? Why did she do that? What is that signaling? What conversation is that opening up?

It’s important to contextualize all of it, because music contextualizes so much for us. And if I can help one person contextualize the thing they love in a way that’s approachable, understandable, easy to decipher, but still keeps my voice and my opinion intact — that makes me feel good, because I can help one person today by thinking about the thing I can’t stop thinking about, which is music.

You’ve taught music reporting and mentored early-career journalists. What’s one misconception you see people have about professionalism — especially when they come into the field with a lot of passion for their beat?

I feel like people think music journalism, in the larger scope of journalism, isn’t as serious. Especially since I’ve been searching for a new full-time job for the longest, I think people are just like, “Oh, she’s a music journalist,” and that’s just it. Like it’s fluffy and fun. But there’s actually a lot that goes into doing what we do.

It’s the same journalism. I didn’t go to school for music journalism — I went to school for hard news journalism. Then I found that my particular beat was music and culture. And instead of just being like, “This song’s good, this song’s bad,” it’s a lot more rigorous than I think people expect.

When I first started teaching, some students — not all — thought it would be an easy A. And I’m like, actually, no. I’m going to have you guys working.

I had them go to events. They lived in the city, so it was easier. I told them, go on Bandsintown, find a cheap or free show, go review it. Reach out to publicists. Try to get a quote or an interview. And I think they were like, whoa. I thought we were just going to listen to music the whole time. But no — you’re learning everything.

My first internship at Vibe magazine was literally just, “Alright, you’re on assignment. Here you go.” So I had to learn a lot on the job. I’m taking what I learned without being taught and teaching people so they don’t have to be in that same circumstance. But it’s definitely a lot more work than people give it credit for. And it opens up a lot. It starts as a beat, and then it can snowball into so many other things. I’ve worked in tech. I’ve worked in higher education. I’ve worked at a streaming network. I’ve worked at a hard news organization.

Music journalism is far more impactful and serious than I think a lot of people want to say.

What are you a fan of right now? Any music, pop culture, or artists you’re loving or recommending?

I like Zara Larsson a lot. She’s such a star. I first heard her in 2016 with “Never Forget You,” and I’m glad she’s having a renaissance right now. I’ve been going to the gym a lot, so I’ve been in my female empowerment baddies era — Victoria Monét, Megan Thee Stallion. They make me want to go harder for myself and just be the best version of who I am.

I just listened to Monaleo for the first time — she’s a female rapper, she’s pretty good. Sault just came out with a new project. They’re like a funk/jazz, mysterious group, super cool. I really like Jacob Banks. UK musicians have been taking me there lately — I’ve been listening to Sasha Keable a lot.

Bruno Mars is coming out with his album, so I’m mentally preparing. I got tickets to the tour, and Raye is the featured guest, so I’m really excited. Also Alemeda, she’s pop-rock and angsty. Very cool vibes.

I’m no stranger to a nostalgic moment either. I’ve been listening to a lot of early 2000s music. One of my favorite bands ever is Gnarls Barkley, and I’ve been listening to them a ton.

Podcast-wise, I’ve been trying to listen to things that make me feel like I’m growing. I’ve been listening to Mess — it’s two comedian friends talking, and it’s really fun. I’ve also been listening to Fresh Air with Terry Gross. A friend compared me to her after watching one of my interviews, and I was like, maybe I should start listening. I’ve really been enjoying it. Another one I like is She’s So Lucky. It’s entrepreneurs talking about how they got where they are. I’m like, this is where I need to be.

I’ve also been doing more reading and audiobooks. I just started Buy Yourself the Damn Flowers. It’s one of those books that reminds you that you are that girl. Don’t let anyone dim your light. It’s easy to get wrapped up in comparison, but we're not seeing the full story. It’s a very, very helpful book.

This one started with a hockey romance.

When Heated Rivalry premiered in November, it arrived with a built-in audience from a book series by Rachel Reid and a premise that felt almost engineered for obsession. It came with the enemies to lovers trope, a passionate queer love story and…professional male athletes? Mainstream television rarely places a same-sex romance inside the hyper-visible world of men’s professional sports, if ever. With a compelling concept, along with it being a genuinely great, well-paced show, it’s honestly not that surprising how quickly viewers latched on.

By the time the finale aired, the conversation had moved far beyond TikTok edits and conversations online. The fandom only seemed to grow larger and larger, becoming more and more prominent by the week. And then, in a rarer turn for a television series, fans began showing up for it in real life as well.

On Valentine’s Day, it feels fitting to tell this story the way it unfolded, as a relationship. This Forward Focus examines the relationship between a fandom and the thing it chose to love loudly.

The Meet Cute

Sometimes a meet cute is subtle, and this one kinda was.

Heated Rivalry premiered in late November as an adaptation of Reid’s Game Changers romance novels, which follow several professional hockey players navigating love in one of the most public arenas imaginable. This installment focuses on Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov, longtime rivals whose public feud on the ice masks a private, ongoing relationship.

The books, which were known for their emotional depth and sexually explicit intimacy, already had a pretty loyal following of primarily women and queer romance readers. Still, the show did not arrive as a guaranteed event.

The series was developed by Canadian producers Accent Aigu Entertainment and premiered on Bell Media’s Crave before making its way to U.S. audiences.

In Canada, the series’ premiere date was moved up repeatedly as executives recognized what they had. In the United States, HBO Max acquired it only weeks before its debut in a “very reasonable acquisition,” according to HBO’s content chief Casey Bloys, who later admitted he initially assumed it might appeal to a much more narrow audience than it did.

On November 28, it arrived quietly on the streaming platforms of fans. There were no billboards, no months-long teaser campaigns, and no carefully orchestrated press tour — that came later. Just an introduction to the story of two hockey rookies on rival teams who could not seem to stay away from each other. That was the meet cute.

Love at First Sight

It was the kind of love that moves too fast to contain. The show premiered, and the obsession followed almost immediately.

Within weeks, Heated Rivalry had accumulated more than 600 million streaming minutes. In the United States alone, it reached an average of 10.6 million viewers per episode, with the finale audience increasing more than 300% from its premiere week. More than a month after the season ended, viewership continued climbing. Warner Bros. Discovery later confirmed it had become the most-watched scripted title ever acquired by HBO Max.

Fans did what fans do when they fall hard. They ran it back, rewatching the show over and over and created their own terminology for doing so (hello, reheating). They bought the source material. They pulled everyone they knew into it. Hockey diehards (shoutout to The Empty Netters podcast), romance readers, queer Tumblr veterans, BookTok creators, and casual viewers all collectively latched onto this show. It became a shared language between communities that rarely overlap, feeling reminiscent of 2000s fandom, with franchises like Twilight or the Hunger Games taking off.

Colleen, who describes herself as “100% a straight woman” who had never attended a hockey game before, found herself bingeing all five episodes in under 48 hours after a TikTok edit appeared on her For You Page.

“I’ve watched and I’ve re-watched — or reheated as most people say.”

HarperCollins executives cited “stunning sales” of Heated Rivalry on an earnings call as the book series surged alongside the show’s popularity. In the five weeks ending Jan. 10, LGBTQ+ romance sales rose more than 100 percent year over year, with Heated Rivalry leading the growth. Libraries reported waitlists for the book stretching into the hundreds. In San Diego County alone, 783 readers lined up for the digital edition. During a January snowstorm, New York City Mayor Zohran Mamdani urged residents to stay home and read the novel. Over 5,000 downloads followed within hours.

And of course, with the show about hockey, fans became more curious about that world too.

SeatGeek reported a 24% increase in NHL ticket sales during the week of the finale, while StubHub tracked a 40% spike in interest. NHL commissioner Gary Bettman admitted he binge-watched all six episodes in one night. The league later called the show “a phenomenon that is bringing new fans to our great sport.”

Colleen told me she’d never considered going to a hockey game before. But after watching? “Yes.”

In Russia, where LGBTQ+ content is banned and homosexuality is illegal, fans still found ways to watch, swapping encrypted links and using VPNs.

For some members of the LGBTQ community, the impact was profound. It was about seeing tenderness exist in a space that had historically denied it. It was about watching two men love each other without tragedy being the moral of the story.

One former hockey player, Jesse Kortuem, publicly came out after the show’s success, crediting Heated Rivalry for helping him find the courage to tell his story. He described seeing something “so positive and loving” emerge from such a traditionally masculine sport as something he never thought he would witness in his lifetime.

Meanwhile, the stars, Connor Storrie and Hudson Williams, went from relative unknowns to cultural fixtures. They appeared at the Golden Globes, walked Milan runways and carried the torch for the 2026 Milan Cortina Winter Olympics. Crowds lined sidewalks outside late-night appearances, as fans waited hours for a glimpse.

At that point, it became clear that things were a bit more serious than the usual hit television series. This was a global fixation.

Making It Official

A relationship is working when both sides are putting in the effort. Heated Rivalry absolutely did its part in being a product that resonated with fans all over the globe. But what made the Hollanov moment different was what the fans did next.

The enthusiasm moved outward, into podcasts, dance floors, city parks and professional pipelines. Fandom has always been creative. Edits, fanfiction, podcasts, events, memes — those ecosystems exist around nearly every beloved show. But with Heated Rivalry, the scale and speed felt intense. What also felt unique here was how many people wanted to participate, even causals outside of the more niche fandom communities, and how visible that participation became.

One of the clearest examples of that expansion came in the form of a fan-made podcast.

The Believe in Anything Podcast was created by fans who wanted to talk not just about the show, but about what it was doing to people. Instead of recapping episodes or debating plot twists, the hosts chose to center conversations with other fans about impact, lived experience and why this particular story hit the way it did.

“There wasn’t one specific moment,” co-host Emily Potashnick said. “There are so many great podcasts about the show already, but my co-hosts and I could not stop thinking about it. In the same way other fans were inspired to create art or write fanfic, we wanted to create something too. For us, that meant building a space where we could channel all that passionate energy into conversations with other fans. What’s better than talking about your favorite show and series with people who love it just as much as you do?”

After the premiere, she noticed people trying to explain the scale of the reaction in real time.

“There were a lot of big questions floating around about why it resonated so widely and why it blew up the way it did,” Potashnick said. “But instead of guessing or theorizing, we kept thinking, why not just ask the fans?”

For one fan, fandom became a resume boost.

A fan editor who posts under the name Mellie had already been active in fandom spaces for years, but Heated Rivalry hit differently. She had read the books first and already had songs picked out in her head before the series even premiered.

“I read the books and absolutely fell in love with them,” she said. “I had an idea as to which songs I wanted to edit before the show came out, but I got countless new ideas as the show itself aired. Shane and Ilya in particular are a really fun couple to edit because they’re so complex, their story is so unique, and the message is so important. I’ve made so much of my proudest work with this show.”

One edit in particular changed everything.

“I had some edits do really well before that one, but my ‘Sweet Dreams’ edit in particular really took off,” she said. “I’ve never had an edit do that well before, and I was completely taken aback by the response to it. People were so incredibly kind and excited about that edit.”

Not long after, she accepted a job at HBO as an editor making trailers and promos.

“It was absolutely surreal,” she said. “This was a hobby of mine for so long, but it had also been a dream of mine for years to work in this industry. I never expected to get discovered through social media. It very very full-circle to get discovered through the place I grew up and found my start. I’ve been part of fan spaces since I was 12, and I turn 26 soon. I’ve absolutely loved my time in fan spaces and I will forever be so grateful for what it’s done for me.”

The fandom also moved off screens and into rooms.

Across the country, Club 90s began hosting Heated Rivalry nights in venues holding hundreds, sometimes thousands, of fans. The tour even made stops in Canada and the U.K.

Mikey Luján, a DJ for Club 90s, said this one felt different from the start.

“What felt immediately different about the Heated Rivalry Rave was that it’s an event I hosted around a show that was blowing up in real time,” he said. “A lot of the events I hosted that sold out in the past are based around nostalgia, like 2000s Night or Disney Channel Nights with Bop To The Top Tour. Those are both so fun, but it’s cool to be apart of a cultural moment that’s defining the current decade we’re living in.”

On tour stops across the country, the show stopped being something people watched alone in their bedrooms and became something energetic and community-centered.

“From behind the booth, the crowd energy is insane! I think what really leaves a lasting impression on me is the genuine smiles. Not only is everyone showing their joy through dancing, but they’re also making it clear on their faces which is really fulfilling to see.”

Music was always part of the show’s emotional language, so it made sense that it would become the bridge between screen and dance floor.

Songs like t.A.T.u.’s “All the Things She Said” and Wolf Parade’s “I’ll Believe in Anything” saw renewed popularity as fans associated them with pivotal moments, like a messy club scene and a long-awaited kiss on the ice. At club nights, it can feel like stepping directly into the world on the screen. Fans anticipate hearing the songs so they can scream the lyrics back at each other, recreating or revisiting the moments from the show in real time.

“The moments that get the biggest reactions from the crowd are the very pivotal moments in the show, like the shower scene with Shane and Ilya, as well as the kissing scene on the rink between Scott and Kip,” he said.

He also noticed who was showing up.

“Something I’ve noticed about the fans in the room is that it’s people from all different walks of life. Even though Heated Rivalry is a gay love story, I’ve seen straight men, lesbian women and everyone else in between come to these events. Everyone is super supportive of each other when people are dancing on stage, and I think it goes to show that even if you can’t relate to a show, as long as it has a good story, that’s all that matters at the end of the day to keep people interested.”

If fandom had once been confined to screens, these nights made it impossible to ignore.

For some, the appeal was more casual. Violet, a college lacrosse player who attended one of the Club 90s tour stops, hadn’t even been the one to discover the show first — her roommate had. But the two showed up early, waiting in freezing weather to grab a good spot inside. When she found herself onstage after screaming for a chance to participate, it felt like “a nice little side quest. Better than rotting in bed.”

“It seems to be a nice space for them to express themselves in whatever that context means to them,” another fan, Kennedy, said. “And I love the club nights. It gets people outside. It gets people to do something surrounded by something that they like.”

Offline gatherings extended beyond dance floors.

On February 1, hundreds gathered in Greenwich Village for a Heated Rivalry lookalike contest organized by Katherine Gehring and Charlotte Steinblatt, with nearly 5,000 RSVPs. The crowd was so large that police shut down the original Washington Square Park location, forcing a relocation to Mercer Playground in 20-degree weather.

Contestants arrived in hockey jerseys, reenacted scenes and leaned fully into the theatrics as the crowd chanted for their Shanes and Ilyas to kiss.

For Steinblatt, the experience felt familiar in an unexpected way.

“I love live music, and attend many concerts, and it was similar to that feeling — so many people showing up to experience something meaningful to them with strangers,” she said. “It was jarring and so beautiful. It made me want to keep creating moments that bring people together en masse.”

Despite the crowd size and freezing temperatures, what she remembers most isn’t the chaos — it’s how kind everyone was.

“I was impressed by how kind and cooperative everyone was, even at the most hectic moments,” she said. “It made me emotional how many people genuinely wanted the event to go smoothly and wanted everyone around them to simply have fun.”

The show had done its part. Now the fans were doing theirs.

It’s Complicated

But it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Every relationship has its…not so great moments, and fandom is no exception.

As Heated Rivalry grew, so did the intensity around it. For many fans, the closeness of the show — the intimacy, the vulnerability, the feeling of being let in on something private — translated into a sense of personal attachment to the actors themselves.

The show’s sexual content fueled an extreme level of online sexualization of the two male leads. That reaction was kind of unsurprising given the tone of the series and the intensity of the fandom. Less expected was how quickly speculation about their real lives took hold, with fans debating who they were dating, whether they might secretly be together, and who was worthy of them in the first place.

Both Connor Storrie and Hudson Williams have remained visible in the press while keeping their personal lives largely private. That boundary did not stop some fans from trying to cross it. People posted TikTok videos filled with theories, dissecting everything from Letterboxd accounts to airport photos. A kind of “protect him” entitlement surfaced, as if the actors were fictional extensions of the characters they played.

When both were announced as new clients of CAA, one of Hollywood’s most powerful agencies that has represented big name celebrities for over 50 years, fans flooded the agency’s posts urging them not to “mess up his career.” It was protective in wanting to see success for the actors they admired, yes. It was also telling.

The boundary crossing did not stop with the cast. As interest in hockey surged, some fans brought the fictional dynamic into real arenas. At games, a handful of attendees held sexually suggestive signs directed at real-life players or shouted for them to kiss, projecting a storyline onto athletes who had never signed up to participate in it. On social media, some began referring to live games as the “boy aquarium,” a tongue-in-cheek label that framed professional athletes as objects of visual consumption.

Actor François Arnaud, who plays Scott Hunter, addressed the darker side more directly. In an interview with the Toronto Star, he revealed he had received death threats amid online rumors about his relationship with Storrie. He noted that while most viewers had been positive and respectful, some appeared unable to separate fiction from reality. “I honestly wish they would just rewatch the show,” he said. “It doesn’t seem like they got its message. Pay attention more closely. Did we watch the same show?”

The irony is hard to miss. Heated Rivalry is built on the idea that love should exist without shame, fear or ownership. But some of the backlash and speculation replicated the very pressures the show critiques.

Part of what seems to be fueling this dynamic is the way the series centers its queer romance fully. Shane and Ilya’s relationship is the story, with their fear of exposure and their secrecy, all vulnerability played out on screen for us. The emotional stakes are intimate, and intimacy can create the illusion of proximity.

Then, add in the “overnight” stardom narrative, where two relatively unknown actors were suddenly thrust into global attention. That kind of trajectory can feel like something fans discovered first, and it can produce a subtle “one of us” attachment — because, just a few months ago, they were still living very normal lives like us. Videos have surfaced of Williams working as a waiter at a pasta restaurant, his life changing overnight.

Still, its important to say the overwhelming majority of the fandom has been joyful, supportive, and pretty respectful. The complications existed alongside the celebration, not in place of it.

Every love story has tension. The question is what survives it. The negative aspects of the Heated Rivalry fandom cannot fully outweigh the good when you zoom out and look at what it created.

When Love Feels Rare

A queer hockey romance, adapted from a series of novels that many people outside of romance spaces had never heard of, becoming one of the biggest cultural moments of the winter was not something anyone predicted. It wasn’t backed by a billion-dollar franchise, it didn’t have any A-list actors in the cast, and it wasn’t designed or marketed to dominate awards season alongside “prestige” tv shows. It arrived quietly, and then refused to leave.

Part of what made it resonate so deeply is that stories like this are still rare. Mainstream sports narratives have long centered toughness and hypermasculinity. Heated Rivalry placed tenderness at the center instead. It treated a same-sex relationship as the entire emotional engine of the story, rather than a subplot.

Showrunner Jacob Tierney has also noted that the genre’s appeal for many straight women lies partly in its ability to sidestep the gendered power dynamics that often shape heterosexual romances. Two men on equal footing, negotiating desire, vulnerability and fear without the traditional scripts of male dominance or female submission creates tension.

The way fans responded to the show felt rare, too. These days there seems to be no more monoculture, as everyone has their own algorithms and their own niches, and you can truly exist in your own silos. But sometimes things break through, and there’s this feeling of communal obsession that is just inescapable. I think a lot of people are craving more of that.

Heated Rivalry gave fans a story worth falling for, and what they built in return was proof that the feeling was mutual. As we wait for season 2, it’s clear this was never going to be a fling. It feels much more like a relationship, and this love story is only getting started.