The title might sound a little odd, but hear me out: I know that, technically, being a college-aged fangirl isn’t exactly strange – especially for someone whose phases have always centered around artists… One Direction as a boy-crazy twelve year old, My Chemical Romance as a moody fifteen year old, the list goes on, so the schoolgirl crushes I’ve had on their lead singers shouldn’t feel foreign to me.
Except, it does, and I think I’ve figured out why: for the first time, I’m obsessed with a local artist. Not only that, he’s also a rising local artist, whose fanbase is small enough where fans might get recognized through their fan account – which, you guessed it, I do have have one myself. The songs are surprisingly intimate because they’re mainly in the local language, and communicate sentiments that feel like inside jokes, especially compared to the ones I’ve grown up listening to… and if we’re being honest, it doesn’t hurt that he’s cute. His fans, who’ve been with him since his child star days, have excitedly filled me in on what I’ve missed so far, largely ignoring the fact that until a few days days ago, I didn’t even know he existed. Oh, and we refer to each other as ‘besties’ – unless we’re talking about our relationship with him, in which case we proudly shout out our fandom name.
I’m aware that all of this has the makings of a parasocial relationship. Although, in my defense, everything feels like a parasocial relationship at this point. My high school friends only exist on screen – blocks on my calendar labeled ‘low priority’ – because, unlike homework, friendships aren’t “due” at 11:59PM. Don’t get me started on my newfound college friends, because I’m still trying to wrap my head around sharing myself with people I haven’t gotten to know in person yet, due to online classes. Admittedly, I project entire personalities onto people before getting to truly know them sometimes…
…which brings us back to him – the sun around which my days now mindlessly orbit, instead of everything else that pains me to think about: the classes I can’t focus on, the friends I can’t meet, and everything in between. This escapism, my friend explains best: “It’s uplifting, isn’t it, not having to work for something you’re passionate about” – referring to the year off I had spent commodifying all of my interests to her almost-parental disapproval – “I’m glad you’re happy” she continued, “even though this feels like another one of your phases.”
I can’t say I didn’t appreciate the honesty. Mostly because I know it’s one of my phases – one I will likely move on from once life looks up. At which point, I, and every other super-fan, will one day look around and realize the spotlight of his attention, the one I’ve paid for, shines out of other places, too.
Fickle, I know, but I also look forward to the day I pick his music back up and remember everything I was going through to the tune of his perfect, perfect falsetto, thanking him for the memories on the way out.
Until then, I intend to stream his latest single faithfully.