One of my earliest memories from my childhood was my first concert. My dad took me to see Victoria Justice from the famous TV show, “Victorious.” I remember the flashing lights, the smell of the smoke machine, the warm summer air, and the huge crowd.
It was the end of the summer and my 7th birthday was approaching. My dad had recently become a single dad, working nonstop; he would take any overtime he could get.
We lived in a small two-bedroom apartment on the north side of Holland. It wasn’t the nicest but my dad always made it feel like home. I would always sit in our living room watching “Victorious,” singing and dancing to every song.
My dad would usually sit with me and listen to my screechy voice trying to hit every high note, but cheering me on nonetheless.
It was a Wednesday night when my dad came home from a long day and surprised me with two tickets to the Victoria Justice concert. “Happy early birthday, I love you kiddo,” my dad says handing me the tickets.
I screamed in excitement and jumped in my dad’s arms. I was so excited.
While I was very young, I still knew about my dad’s struggles. He didn’t show it but I still knew. Even at my young age I still appreciated my dad’s hard work to get these tickets for me.
It was the day of the concert, I had my new outfit from Justice on and my dad’s hand in mine. We walked into the Allegan County fairgrounds, and I remember seeing hundreds of little girls like me, lined up waiting impatiently to get inside.
When we got to the concert, the stage was huge. The smell of cotton candy, soda, and popcorn was everywhere. Me and my dad got some drinks and took our seats.
The lights lowered, the crowd got louder, and then came Victoria Justice from under the stage in a huge box. It was nothing I had ever experienced before, I was excited, happy, and I felt so many emotions all at the same time.
We sat behind these two very tall women, I was disappointed because I couldn’t see. My dad lifted me on his shoulders so I could see better. While he could barely see he just wanted to ensure I got the full view of my favorite artist.
When the concert was over I couldn’t stop telling my dad how much fun I had. The smile across my dad’s face was comforting; he knew he did a good job.
After the concert, my dad and I shared a big helping of food from McDonalds. We got home, changed into our PJs, and fell asleep on the couch, watching Victorious.
