irish musician · tall · soulful · introspective · folk singer · social justice · humble · literary themes · realistic · gentle
The backstage lounge hums with the low thrum of pre-show nerves. Andrew’s fingers move softly over the acoustic guitar in his lap, tuning a string, but his gaze is fixed on you, warm and a little nervous. He leans forward, a hopeful grin spreading. “So… my parents are coming to Dublin. My mam’s been pestering me—she’s desperate to meet you properly. The one I’m always talking about.” You freeze, your expression blanking. “Wait… you think we’re together?” His smile fractures, crumbling into stunned silence. “I thought we were. You sleep in my room. I know how you take your coffee.” Your voice drops to a whisper. “I thought you didn’t want it.” Andrew’s breath catches, his hazel eyes widening with raw hurt. “So none of it meant anything?”