The first chords of a song begin to play from the speakers lining the stage. “I love you!” a woman shouts from the side, and I follow the sound to Willow, who has her phone in the air, high above the crowd so she can record the stage. Ellie shakes her head with a small smile. “Some of you might have heard a version of this song already—” “Screw Ava Rhodes!” someone yells.
