Luke Bryan's cheeky joke about viral Coldplay Kiss Cam scandal has concert crowd roaring with laughter
During a show on July 17, Bryan took a moment to make a joke and asked the crowd, "Anybody here with your secretary tonight?" according to a video uploaded by Country Now to Instagram.
The country star's joke hit with the audience and an eruption of laughter occurred.
Morgan Wallen also joined in on the fun during a recent show.
During his concert on Friday night at the State Farm Arena in Glendale, Arizona, Wallen seemingly referenced the viral video when addressing the crowd ahead of his performance of his song, "I'm A Little Crazy."
"Anybody here with your secretary tonight?"
"Anybody in here with their side chick or whatever, I think you're safe here," he can be heard saying in a video posted to TikTok taken by a concertgoer. "I don't condone cheating, anymore."
The Coldplay Kiss Cam scandal has dominated the internet since the show took place on Wednesday, July 16, at Gillette Stadium in Foxborough, Massachusetts.
During that performance, Byron appeared on the Kiss Cam with his arms wrapped around a woman, who was later identified as his company's HR chief, Kristin Cabot. The pair were on the big screen during "The Jumbotron Song," where Martin improvises songs about couples in the audience.
The woman immediately covered her face and turned away from the camera, while a stunned Byron ducked down and exited the frame. Martin then joked that, "Either they're having an affair or they're just very shy."
Chris Martin issued a cheeky warning to fans at Coldplay's first show following the viral scandal.
On Saturday, the group performed at Camp Randall Stadium in Madison, Wisconsin.
"We'd like to say hello to some of you in the crowd," the 48-year-old said in a video posted on X, which sparked both cheers and laughter from the audience.
"How we're gonna do that is we're gonna use our cameras and put some of you on the big screen," said Martin while grinning. "So please, if you haven't done your makeup, do your makeup now."
The fan who posted the snippet from Saturday's show later wrote on X that "zero couples" were shown on the venue's jumbotron.
WATCH: Coldplay's Chris Martin catches couple on Kiss Cam, jokingly asks if they're having an affair
Astronomer put out a statement after the incident, writing on social media, "Astronomer is committed to the values and culture that have guided us since our founding. Our leaders are expected to set the standard in both conduct and accountability."
"The Board of Directors has initiated a formal investigation into this matter, and we will have additional details to share very shortly."
In another update on Friday, the company announced Byron had been placed on leave and an interim CEO had been appointed. The company later informed followers on Saturday that Byron had resigned from the company.
"Andy Byron has tendered his resignation, and the Board of Directors has accepted," the X post read in part. "The Board will begin a search for our next Chief Executive as Cofounder and Chief Product Officer Pete DeJoy continues to serve as interim CEO."
It appears that Kristin is married to Andrew Cabot, the CEO of Privateer Rum. Fox News Digital confirms that they purchased a home as a married couple in April 2024. According to the New York Post, Cabot's previous divorce was finalized in 2022. No divorce records were found for Byron, who appears to still be married.
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The scene at Gillette Stadium in Massachusetts on July 16 was steeped in irony. During Coldplay's 'jumbotron song' — the concert segment where cameras pan over the crowd — the big screen landed on Andy Byron, then-CEO of data firm Astronomer, intimately embracing Kristin Cabot, the company's chief people officer. Both are married to other people. The moment, captured on video and widely circulated on social media, shows the pair abruptly recoiling as Coldplay's lead singer Chris Martin says: 'Either they're having an affair or they're just very shy.' Martin's comment — seemingly light-hearted at the time — quickly took on a different tone as online sleuths identified the pair and uncovered their corporate roles and marital statuses. Within days, Byron resigned from his position as CEO while Cabot is on leave. This spectacle raises a deeper question: why does infidelity, especially among the powerful, provoke such public outcry. Literary tradition offers some insight: intimate betrayal is never truly private. It shatters an implicit social contract, demanding communal scrutiny to restore trust. When trust crumbles publicly French philosopher Paul Ricoeur's notion of 'narrative identity' suggests we make sense of our lives as unfolding stories. The promises we make (and break) become chapters of identity and the basis of others' trust. Betrayal ruptures the framework that stitches private vows to public roles; without that stitch, trust frays. Byron's stadium exposure turned a marital vow into a proxy for professional integrity. Public betrayal magnifies public outcry because leaders symbolize stability; their personal failings inevitably reflect on their institutions. When Astronomer's board stated the expected standard 'was not met,' they were lamenting the collapse of Byron's narrative integrity — and, by extension, their company's. This idea — that private morality underpins public order — is hardly new. In Laws, ancient Greek philosopher Plato described adultery as a disorder undermining family and state. Roman philosopher Seneca called it a betrayal of nature, while statesman Cicero warned that breaking fides (trust) corrodes civic bonds. The social cost of infidelity in literature Literature rarely confines infidelity to the bedroom; its shockwaves fracture communities. French sociologist Émile Durkheim's idea of the 'conscience collective' holds that shared moral norms create 'social solidarity.' As literature demonstrates, violations of these norms inevitably undermines communal trust. Leo Tolstoy's Anna Karenina (1875-77) dramatizes the social fracture of betrayal. Anna's affair with Count Vronsky not only defies moral convention but destabilizes the aristocratic norms that once upheld her status. As the scandal leads to her ostracization, Anna mourns the social world she has lost, realizing too late that 'the position she enjoyed in society… was precious to her… [and] she could not be stronger than she was.' In Gustave Flaubert's Madame Bovary (1857), Emma Bovary's extramarital affairs unravel the networks of her provincial town, turning private yearning for luxury and romance into public contagion. Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter (1850) makes this explicit: Hester Prynne's scarlet 'A' turns her sin into civic theatre. Public shaming on the scaffold, the novel suggests, delineates moral boundaries and seeks to restore social order — a process that prefigures today's 'digital pillories,' where viral moments subject individuals to mass online judgment and public condemnation. Domestic crumbs and digital scaffolds Contemporary narratives shift the setting but uphold the same principle: betrayal devastates the mundane rituals that build trust. Nora Ephron's autobiographical novel Heartburn (1983), based on her own marriage's collapse to investigative journalist Carl Bernstein, weaponizes domesticity. Heartburn's protagonist Rachel Samstat delivers her emotions through recipes — 'Vinaigrette' as a marker of intimacy and betrayal, 'Lillian Hellman's Pot Roast' as a bid for domestic stability and 'Key Lime Pie,' hurled at her cheating husband — become symbols of a life undone by public infidelity. Ephron's satire, later adapted into a film, anticipates our digital age of exposure, where private pain fuels public consumption and judgment. Jenny Offill's Dept. of Speculation (2014), which draws from her own life, shows another perspective: betrayal as quiet erosion. Offill never depicts the affair directly; instead, the husband's absences, silences and an off-hand reference to 'someone else' create a suffocating dread. This indirection shows betrayal's power lies in its latent potential, slowly dismantling a life built on trust before any overt act. Both works underscore betrayal's impact on the collective conscience: a lie fractures a family as fundamentally as a CEO's indiscretion erodes institutional trust. Power magnifies the fallout by turning private failings into public symbols of fragility. Even hidden betrayal poisons the shared rituals binding any group, making the notion of 'private' unsustainable long before any public revelation. The limits of power Literature acknowledges power's protective veneer from consequence — and its limits. Theodore Dreiser's Trilogy of Desire (1912–47), modelled on the Gilded Age robber baron Charles Yerkes, follows the rise of financier Frank Cowperwood, whose power shields him — until it doesn't. Even his vast empire proves vulnerable once his adultery becomes public. The very networks that protected him grow wary. Though many critics of the elite are themselves morally compromised in the trilogy, Cowperwood's transgression becomes a weapon to discredit him. His brief exile shows that power may defer, but cannot erase, the costs of betrayal. Once trust fractures, even the powerful become liabilities. They do not fall less often — only more conspicuously. Gender also plays a role in shaping these narratives. Male protagonists like Cowperwood rebound as tragic anti-heroes, their moral failings recast as flaws of character. By contrast, women — think Flaubert's Emma Bovary or Hawthorne's Hester Prynne — are branded cautionary figures, their transgressions stigmatized rather than mythologized. This imbalance in assigning consequences reveals a deeper societal judgment: while broken trust demands repair, the path to restoration often depends on the transgressor's gender. The unblinking eye From Tolstoy's salons to TikTok's scroll, literature offers no refuge from betrayal's ripple effects. When private trust visibly fractures, communal reflexes kick in. Scarlet letters, exile or a CEO's resignation all aim to heal the collective trust. The jumbotron, like Hester's scaffold, is the latest instrument in this age-old theatre of exposure. Jumbotrons. Scaffolds. Same operating system. Same shame. This article is republished from The Conversation, a nonprofit, independent news organisation bringing you facts and trustworthy analysis to help you make sense of our complex world. It was written by: Jason Wang, Toronto Metropolitan University Read more: 'Eat the rich' — Why horror films are taking aim at the ultra-wealthy TikTok may be bad for privacy, but is it also harming our cognitive abilities? Citizens' social media, like Mastodon, can provide an antidote to propaganda and disinformation Jason Wang does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.
