CNN —
Chapel Lawn’s rise to pop stardom was slow and sudden.
She began singing covers on YouTube under her real name more than a decade ago before signing a record deal after graduating high school. Her debut single, “Pink Pony Club,” was released at the start of the COVID-19 pandemic in 2020. The album was released almost a year ago to positive reviews and a small but devoted following.
But over the past six months, her popularity has skyrocketed. Appearances on NPR’s Tiny Desk and a star-making appearance at Coachella introduced Rowan to new audiences just as her songs “Good Luck, Babe!” and “Hot to Go!” began playing in the background on hundreds of thousands of TikToks. Her breakout summer culminated in what may have been the biggest Chicago festival ever, Lollapalooza, drawing a crowd of 110,000.
The sudden fame has weighed on Rowan, and earlier this week her discomfort became unbearable: She posted two videos to TikTok criticizing intrusive fans who followed her around, “stalked” her family, and demanded photos and hugs in public despite Rowan’s requests.
“I don’t mind that abuse, harassment, stalking, etc. is commonplace towards celebrities and people who are slightly famous,” she said in one video. “It’s weird that people think they know someone because they’ve seen them online or listened to the art they make… I have the right to say no to creepy behavior, OK?”
In a lengthy Instagram post on Friday, she doubled down on her comments, reiterating that she’s “clocked out” when she’s not performing and that she owes no attention to people who approach her during her breaks. She also said that while she loves making music and the support she receives from respectful fans, “I have chosen this path and will not accept harassment of any kind.”
“I feel more love than I’ve ever felt in my life,” she wrote. “I feel more anxiety than I’ve ever felt in my life.”
Part of why fans love Chapel Lawn — and perhaps why some have gone to disturbing extremes to invade her privacy — is the authenticity she exudes, says Sally Celan, a psychology professor at Wellesley College in Massachusetts who studies the parasocial relationships between celebrities and young fans.
“I think what’s really fascinating about her is that she’s so forthright in saying, ‘This is me. I’m not going to conform to the celebrities of the past. I’m going to do what I want to do,'” Celan says. “I think that’s really appealing in a time when everything feels so incredibly artificial.”
Online, at least, Loann’s openness and confidence might lead some fans to assume that they know her and that she wants to get to know them, but there’s a fundamental misconception among fans who believe that Loann’s online persona is the real her.
“I think what she was really trying to say was, ‘I’m doing this as a performance. It doesn’t mean that you know me or that I know you,'” Celan says. “But there’s this disconnect where people really think they understand her, and maybe she’s trying to understand them.”
In an age of social media star-making and candid personal moments going viral, the line between fan and celebrity is less clear than it once was. Roan’s warning suggests there are limits to the level of self-expression fans can expect from celebrities, and that the cost of online candor is often higher than artists like Roan are willing to pay to become a star.
Long before she became a regular on the Billboard charts, Loann used TikTok to share candid, funny videos aimed at her haters and showing what it’s like to stay in cheap motels while on tour. Her social media presence mirrors the bold candor and confidence she displays onstage, which has endeared her to fans.
But sharing parts of her life online, even small, humorous events from before she was famous, set a precedent among some fans who expect the same access to Loann offline.
“Social media has exacerbated our sense of access, ownership, and entitlement to celebrities, and that they owe us something,” Celan says. “The social compact with social media is that they may owe us something, that they’re making money off of us.”
Loann is one of the few big pop stars who doesn’t ask for more from her fans than she already gives, and many of them are supporting her and urging one another to respect the person behind the beloved persona.
But that candor is not always well received, said Lucy Bennett, a lecturer in music fan studies at Cardiff University in Wales, as other digital-age stars have experienced when trying to draw boundaries with their fans.
“The dynamic between artists and fans can be a complicated negotiation between the two parties, especially when an artist disappoints or embarrasses their fans in a way that sparks a negative response, and vice versa,” Bennett said.
Doja Cat, whose popularity soared after her TikTok hit “Say So,” has also clashed online with fans who criticized her when she changed her look and sound. In July 2023, when asked by a thread account if she loved her fans, Doja replied, “But I don’t love them because I don’t know them.” She lost more than 180,000 Instagram followers in one month.
“My theory is that if someone has never met me in person, then subconsciously, I’m not real to them,” Doja told Harper’s Bazaar in a 2023 interview. “So when you engage with someone you don’t know online, you start to have a sense of ownership over that person. You think that they’re yours, in a way.”
Roan’s TikTok post has reignited the debate about “parasocial relationships” between fans and celebrities. (This debate has come up often since fans of comedian John Mulaney expressed shock and condemnation when they learned of his divorce from his first wife, given that he frequently referenced her in his acts. But the news revealed that fans actually knew very little about him offstage.)
But parasocial relationships with celebrities are usually harmless, Celan says — they’re one-sided, where fans look up to the celebrity and imagine what they’d do in difficult situations. But at the end of the day, most fans understand that their relationships are fictional and not reciprocal.
The spread of social media has likely made quasi-social relationships between fans and idols “easier to form,” Seran said.
The emotional connection between fans and their idols is “further amplified” on TikTok and similar platforms, where “fans can get not only their favorite songs but even more fascinating insights into the musicians’ attitudes and personalities,” Bennett said.
Fans can also communicate directly with musicians on apps like TikTok, Bennett said. Artists like Megan Thee Stallion and Nicki Minaj frequently go “live” on Instagram and TikTok to respond to fan comments and share their raw thoughts in livestreams.
“TikTok gives musicians important visual insight into who they are, which helps create deeper connections and build stronger, more active fanbases,” Bennett said.
Celan said the behaviour Loan describes in the video – “stalking” her family and following her around in public – is “highly unusual” for a fan.
But one of the frustrations she discussed — that fans feel like they know her because they listen to her music and follow her online — is more common, Celan said, and not inherently wrong. It’s a result of listening to and loving an artist, she said, not a feature of a parasocial relationship.
“There are always people like that, no matter who you are. They’re a real minority, but there are always people who take those extreme actions,” Celan said. “I really feel for[Loann]and her fanbase. What she’s saying is unrepresentative.”
Loan is one of the few modern pop stars who remains approachable. Taylor Swift and Beyoncé, two of the world’s biggest stars, now rarely interact directly with their fans, communicating mainly through public statements and curated social media posts. Even TikTok artists like Olivia Rodrigo, whose music became hugely popular on the app, distance themselves from their fans by rarely talking about their private lives.
“Having a step back or a very curated presence on social media gives you a little bit of protection from potentially having a toxic fanbase,” Celan says. “Fans don’t feel like they have the same access to you. They don’t feel like you’re as authentic as someone like Chapel Rowan.”
Still, “Chapel Roan” is a persona first: Roan has previously described her acting career as a “drug project,” and has repeatedly made it clear that she is playing a role, and keeps her work and personal lives separate to protect her mental health.
“At the end of the day, this is just a job,” she said during an appearance on the “Q with Tom Power” podcast in 2023. “And I’m not planning on doing this forever. So I need to have an identity outside of this job and protect myself for when in 20 years’ time I’m not exhausted by life.”
Loann’s recent TikTok only shows once again how tense and delicate the relationship between fan and celebrity can be for both parties.
“We think we know celebrities, but we don’t really know them,” Celan said. “All we know is the image they project. We project a lot onto people. We make assumptions and don’t realize that what they project isn’t who they really are.”
At the end of her TikTok slamming persistent fans, Loan ended with a blunt reminder that she’s a stranger to most of her fans: “I’m just a bitch. You’re just a bitch. Think about that for a second, okay?”