In the midst of a snowstorm in February, I’m standing outside Irving Plaza, a small, intimate

venue in Manhattan where various artists perform day in and day out, with my best friend who is

moving constantly to keep himself warm. It’s almost 8 o’clock and the line to get inside is getting

longer, and the temperature is definitely dropping too. In our hands we clutch the tickets we

picked up a day ago that were reserved via the internet under our names. These tickets are

actually free, and were handed out online to about a hundred lucky fans.

I look around at the different faces, people I have never seen before, but somehow we all

have one thing in common: we all love Drake more than we love warmth. I notice girls that are

wearing his face on their shirts, while the guys are rocking hats that have his brand/label—

October’s Very Own’s—written or abbreviated on them. I look down at my outfit and

immediately feel left out as I start to regret not wearing my Drake shirt. It’s my friend’s first time

seeing Drake and as for me, I have lost count at this point. Nonetheless, I’m as—if not more—

excited as him and that’s why I practically run towards the doors when the line starts to move. Or

maybe I’m just too cold and want to feel my face again.

The security opens the doors 10 minutes later to let us all in. Once inside, everyone is

already warming up and rushing to the coat room because of course, who wants to wear three

layers while jumping up and down rapping your organs out?

My friend goes to use the bathroom after we give our coats away while I stand in the

lobby, waiting and observing. Then, out of the side doors and in a sudden motion, I see a group

of men all dressed in Canada Goose fur jackets, walk in simultaneously. They walk closer to me

and I recognize their faces; it is Drake’s entourage. I have seen their faces on his social media

and I instantly start to point out in my head who the photographer, personal assistant, and tour

manager is. The lobby is nearly empty now since most people flocked to the bar for pre-concert
drinks, so it’s basically just me and Drake’s crew. They walk past me and a swirl of cologne and

marijuana scents fills up my nostrils. I assume they are headed backstage, and I inform my friend

that Drake has arrived to the venue.

The stage is small, of course—this isn’t an arena or a stadium. I tell my friend that since it

is general admission and everyone has to stand, we have to find a good spot and make sure we

keep it. After making our way through, squeezing and gutting shoved by the crowd, we find

ourselves in the center and way up front. The stage is so close that I see the footsteps and dents

that are left on it. This might just be the best night of my life.

Some sponsored DJs entertain us for about an hour before they leave the stage and

Drake’s DJ, Future The Prince, emerges behind the board to set up for the performance. The

crowd cheers on as Future hypes us up. Then the lights go dim and an instrumental plays, and out

walks Drake, his body only a silhouette. He stands in front of the stage and takes the mic out of

the stand as the beat drops. We are all screaming our heads off while recording this moment on

our phones. He is performing a new song and when the crowd is done screaming, it gets quiet as

everyone just listens. “If I die, all I know is I’m a legend,” he says into the mic and everyone is

awestruck. He ends the song soon and the lights turn back on, finally revealing his face. The

crowd is screaming again and I take this opportunity to snap a quick picture on my phone.

He is talking to the crowd, telling us how much he enjoys being in New York City and

how tonight is a special night for him because he is opening up for one of his mentors and

inspirations, the legendary rapper, Nas. He promises a hell of a show and asks his DJ to begin.

And man did he live up to his promise. He performs about 20 songs, all of his hits over

the years, the recent ones he released and some throwbacks from when he first started. With each

song, the energy just keeps getting higher. There is not a dull moment as fans rap every one if his
words back to him. My phone is long gone in my pocket as I’m too busy rapping along to lyrics I

didn’t know I remembered. I look over to my friend who is obviously recording—it’s clearly his

first time.

I don’t realize how close I really am to the stage till at one point I make direct eye contact

with Drake. He always interacts with the audience and feeds off the energy and adrenaline they

generate. However, I have never been front row at any of his previous shows and this has never

happened to before. In the moment he looks at me and points, I kind of get stunned. He is

looking at me and pointing, directing his lyrics towards me. I don’t even realize that I’m rapping

his lyrics so passionately until he stops and says, “I see you!”

I’m staring back at him in bewilderment, and my mind wonders if he actually remembers

me. I start to wonder if out of the 500 fans he met at his album signing three years ago, does he

remember holding my hand, looking into my eyes, signing my album, and thanking me for

supporting him. It is highly impossible, but just seconds ago we shared a moment in which he

made me feel like he knew me—like he remembers me and everyone single person in this crowd.

That is his true talent, I think. He makes you feel like you know him, he makes you feel

important, he makes you feel like you’re the only person he is performing for.

After his collection of hit rap songs, he slips the mic back onto the stand and I already

know what is coming next. The lights turn a shade of blue and keys on a piano start to play: this

is the part where he sings. You can’t possibly go to a Drake concert and not expect a section of

his performance dedicated to his more melodic tunes where he often serenades women in the

audience. Unfortunately at this show, no one was serenaded. He croons over the instrumental of

his song and the crowd sings along, helping him keep the energy alive. I’m shocked at the voices

I hear around me, thinking most fans dislike the fact that he stops his non-stop hits performance
to sing ballads. But this is what he has established in the past seven years—he is rapper who

sings, and he is quite successful at it. Some might even argue that he is the most successful

rapper/singer of our time, and as I hear the crowd sing his songs at the top of their lungs, I can’t

help but agree.

After his sing along fest, he is back to the rapping and jumping around. He even invites

some of his other rapper friends such as Kanye West and Travis Scott, who come out and cause a

riot within the crowd. The night only gets wilder by the minute and the crowd is only getting

louder. When it is finally time for Drake to leave, he admits that he has the energy to perform

about 10 more songs but his time is limited. The crowd is chanting his name as he performs one

final song before introducing Nas on the stage and making his exit. The crowd is spent and it is

evident. It is like we all gave our 200% to the Drake performance and now we need a break. In

the middle of me wrapping my head around this performance and catching my breathe, I

overhear a conversation between two guys standing next to me. They say how they were only

here for Nas but Drake’s performance left them speechless and that they respect him for giving

an amazing performance. I smile to myself, my chest suddenly filled with pride to be a fan of

such an artist. I turn around to see my friend next to me, the widest smile on his face. “Best night

ever,” he says to me and I sort of scream in response. “I know!”