Holden Cross

Holden Cross didn't set out to become a singer-songwriter. Growing up in the sprawling suburbs of Central Florida, somewhere between the theme park crowds and the quiet orange groves, he spent most of his teenage years working construction with his uncle and writing songs he never planned to share. Music was a private thing—a way to process the world when words alone weren't enough.

It wasn't until a friend secretly recorded him playing at a backyard bonfire and posted it online that everything changed. The video caught fire locally, and suddenly the kid who'd been content playing for himself was being asked to play coffee shops, then bars, then opened for a touring act passing through Orlando. He was 22, terrified, and completely unprepared for what came next.

What makes Holden's music resonate isn't technical perfection—it's honesty. His voice, a rich baritone with natural gravel that can shift into a surprisingly sweet falsetto, carries the weight of someone who's lived through heartbreak and come out believing in love anyway. There's a California dreamer quality to his sound, but it's grounded in Florida humidity and real life—grocery store parking lots, late-night diners, relationships that fell apart and somehow found their way back together.

Holden still lives in Florida, still drives the same beat-up truck he had in high school, and still writes songs in the middle of the night when he can't sleep. He's not chasing fame—he's chasing connection. And if his music makes someone feel a little less alone, a little more willing to take the risk of loving someone, then he's done his job.