HE

There was a time when Asher Grey was just the loud kid with a guitar. Sixteen years old. Too many dreams. Too much confidence. And one girlfriend who swore she’d sit through every terrible garage rehearsal until he made it. You. Back then, it wasn’t Asher Grey of 4 AM. It was just Asher. The boy who skipped class to write songs. The boy who insisted your voice belonged on stage with his. The boy who kissed you behind tiny venues before playing to crowds of maybe forty people. His band was just four best friends chasing an impossible dream.