Amazing Kids! Magazine

Theatric Mania

By Noemi Gomez, Age 11, California


Late in the evening at sunset, I sat in the movie theatre watching Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. I saw the tops of the movie watchers’ heads. Some were bald and some were hairy. I also saw the usher standing next to the exit with his red, bright flashlight. I couldn’t hear anything because the movie was so loud, but I was able to taste my salty, yet buttery popcorn and my fizzy, sweet Sprite. I was so entranced into the movie that I wouldn’t take my eyes off it…Too bad it was over.

All of a sudden, a slim, yet curvy teenage boy strolled into the movie theatre room.  He wore a long sleeve shirt, like the ones you put on for a tuxedo suit and yellow, sunshine colored wrinkled jeans. He had a blonde, short Mohawk. He had ear piercings enough to fit a number 2 pencil in it and his tattoos were all over his body. After a while, he stood still, took a deep breath, and started singing “Trouble” by Taylor Swift.  The boy’s voice wasn’t the best, but he wasn’t off key most of the time. His eye’s seemed to be saying, “I want to be famous.”

The boy was cooking up plans to grab the audience’s attention before they left. After he finished singing the song, he took off his clothes, and he was left with his boxer’s. I couldn’t believe my eyes; he was dancing the Harlem shake! Now everyone started laughing and took out their iPhone. He stopped for a little bit to change into clothes and catch his breath. Then, he modeled us some of his own wardrobes he made. While he was walking, he told everyone, “You can get them on EBAY for only 19.99.”

When he was done entertaining us, he bowed to the crowd and said, “THANK YOU!” everyone applauded and turned off their phones. Right there and then I logged into my YouTube account and uploaded the video.

A few months later, I saw that the video had already 10,000 viewers! I thought to myself, “He’s probably happy now that he’s rather famous.” But I was wrong.

I saw him walking along the street trying to hide him. He wore dark sunglasses and different style of clothes. He asked me, “What did you do?”

“I thought you wanted to be famous.”

“I did, but I didn’t want paparazzi following me 24\7.”

“Well that’s your fault for asking for attention.”

He replied with an exhausted, “True, now I’ll deal with it.”

He did deal with it and before he knew it, he was as famous as Bill Gates, and he looked comfortable. He wasn’t the same a couple of years ago. He seemed to like the paparazzi, and instead of accusing me of what I had done, he thanked me for making him famous.