Out the door and on their phones, Frost Children escape to a room and sing their song.

Here, the St. Louis siblings hash out their best thoughts and worst ruts until they crash the satellite function into New York City.

Amongst the stars, their celebrity is colored with melodic bass drops and unapologetic self-love.

Still, every artist is faced with a mirror of doubt held in the palm of their hand.

How quick can Frost Children kill their phones before their inner critics show up uninvited?

In a sea of synthesized confidence, fear is allocated to a tear-drop sized island; far too small for a pop duo floating through space and time signatures all their own.

They’ll sing this shit ‘till you sing along, and won’t even give a fuck if you get it wrong.

So why not give them love?

Written by Katie Manners