The Boy on Stage

He walked onto the stage, his guitar in hand. Everyone turned watch, as he made the microphone stand shorter. He announced the song he would play, and then began. My friends had frowns on their faces and laughed at the boy on stage. He wasn’t the best singer, and not many people liked the boy on stage, but he had the courage to walk up on the stage and play. My friends started booing him. I couldn’t believe they’d do that, but they did. He looked down at them, but kept playing. Shaking off their heckling. That’s when I stood and faced my friends. “He has the bravery to get up on stage and sing, and you boo him? How could you do that?” I yelled. “I bet you wouldn’t have the courage to get up there. And even if you did, how would you like it if everybody booed you?” Then I turned to the boy on stage, and cheered and clapped. Later, as the night ended and I walked to my dad’s car, I stood with my head held high, because I cheered for that boy on stage, who adjusted the microphone to his height, and shruggeds off the words that would have made others walk away.