Adele stands up for a fan who was harassed by security at her show and lets him sing

Adele showed her unwavering commitment to her fans at a recent concert at Caesars Palace in Las Vegas when she intervened on behalf of a fan who was being harassed by security guards. During their performance, fan Juan Pablo Lastra stood and sang along as security repeatedly asked him to sit down.

Noticing the fan’s distress, Adele interrupted the performance of her song “I Drink Wine” to address the issue. From the stage she asked: “Why is this young fan being harassed for just standing up? What is the problem?” She then told security to leave Juan alone and assured him: “You won’t be bothered anymore, darling. Just enjoy the show”.

Juan, who recorded the concert with a 360-degree camera, captured Adele’s supportive gesture. His footage quickly went viral on TikTok, receiving over a million views across various posts. After Adele’s intervention, the guard stood down and a senior security official assured Juan that he could remain standing.

The audience responded with cheers, showing their appreciation for Adele’s actions. This moment occurred during her stint on “Weekends With Adele” and reflected her genuine concern for her fans.

Check out the video below to witness Adele’s touching moment of support.

I Came Home from Vacation to Find a Huge Hole Dug in My Backyard – I Wanted to Call the Cops until I Saw What Was at the Bottom

When I cut short our vacation due to Karen falling ill, the last thing I expected was to find a massive hole in our backyard upon returning home. Initially alarmed, I hesitated when I spotted a shovel inside, leading me into an unexpected adventure involving buried treasure, newfound friendship, and lessons in life’s true values.

Karen and I rushed back from the beach early after she fell ill. Exhausted but wary, I decided to check the house’s perimeter before settling in. That’s when I stumbled upon the gaping pit in our lawn.

“What’s this?” I muttered, approaching cautiously.

At the bottom, amid scattered debris, lay a shovel. My first instinct was to call the police, but then I considered the possibility that the digger might return, knowing we were supposed to be away.

Turning to Karen, who looked unwell, I suggested keeping the car hidden in the garage to maintain the appearance of absence.

As night descended, I kept vigil by a window, watching and waiting. Just as I was about to give up, I spotted a shadow vaulting over our fence.

Heart pounding, I ventured out with my phone ready to call the authorities. Approaching the pit, I heard the clink of metal on earth.

“Hey!” I exclaimed, shining my phone’s light into the hole. “What do you think you’re doing?”

The figure looked up, squinting. My jaw dropped—it was George, the previous owner of our house.

“Frank?” he stammered, equally surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here, remember?” I retorted. “What are you doing in my yard in the middle of the night?”

George climbed out, looking sheepish. “I can explain. Just… please don’t involve the police.”

Arms folded, I demanded an explanation.

“My grandfather owned this place,” George began, “and I recently discovered he hid something valuable here. I thought I’d dig it up while you were away.”

“You broke into my yard to hunt for treasure?” I couldn’t believe it.

“I know how it sounds,” George pleaded, “but it’s true. Help me dig, and we’ll split whatever we find.”

Despite my better judgment, I agreed. Over hours of digging, we shared stories, George revealing his hardships—a lost job and his wife’s illness. His hope for this treasure to change their lives touched me.

As dawn approached, our optimism dwindled with each shovel of dirt revealing nothing but rocks and roots.

“I was so sure…” George’s disappointment was palpable.

Offering a ride home, we filled the pit and drove to his house, where his wife, Margaret, greeted us anxiously.

“George! Where have you been?” Margaret exclaimed, eyeing me curiously.

Explaining the situation, George’s dream of buried treasure was deflated by Margaret’s reality check.

“My grandfather’s tales were just that—stories,” she gently reminded him.

Apologizing, George and Margaret offered to repair our yard. I declined, suggesting they join us for dinner instead.

Driving home, I shared the night’s escapade with Karen, who teased me about my unusual night with a stranger. Reflecting on our conversation, I proposed inviting George and Margaret for dinner—an unexpected outcome from a night of digging for imaginary treasure.

As I assessed the yard in daylight, I realized life’s treasures aren’t always what we seek but the connections we forge along the way.

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