This was bizarre. Where were the two-hundred-thread-count bamboo towels I bought? The modular wastepaper basket based on a design by Frank Lloyd Wright? The Jonathan Adler shower curtain? The teal-colored super-absorbent bath mat?
Hmm…I remembered that Hubert told me to buy everything but have the stores hold it all until he got the exact address of the theater. I guess he could have forgotten to call in the information and therefore none of it’s been delivered yet.
I walked back into the dressing room and saw Chase starting to shave while standing over the small basin directly next to his makeup mirror.
“When do you get all your bathroom stuff?” I asked loudly, trying to be heard over the running water.
“What do you mean?” he asked as he looked up with his face covered in shaving cream. I momentarily didn’t answer because I was taken aback by how the whiteness of the shaving cream made his eyes appear brighter. No wonder he was consistently on HOT magazine’s “Hottest Guys with the Hottest Eyes” list.
“Are the towels missing?” he continued. “They probably just fell on the floor.”
I snapped myself out of my trance and was about to tell him that he paid for tons of bathroom stuff that’s not here but then stopped. I’d gone almost two weeks without my grandmother lie being exposed, and it wasn’t worth ruining everything this late in the game. Yes, perhaps Hubert was ripping him off somehow, but I need school credit for doing JobSkill. And I don’t need my parents to ground me, which would make me lose out on the chance to do the spring musical. And I especially don’t need to see Spencer’s head shaking in disappointment.
The fact is, Chase is rich. So what if he spent some money for things that never got delivered? He can just make more money and buy it again.
I had to backpedal. “I just thought, you know…maybe Hubert was going to get some fancy-schmancy bathroom stuff for you.”
He gave me a thumbs-up with his nonshaving hand. “You totally know Hubert’s style. He loves his hotel-quality this and organic cotton that.”
I tried to answer without revealing how much I disliked him. “Yes, he seems to be very…particular.” That’s the only word I could think of because all I wanted to do was say “hateful.”
Chase let out a big laugh. “He’s very particular! About every aspect of his day.” He started listing them. “He’ll only eat green olives and only ones from Gristedes. Every night he has to have his martini at the W bar. Every morning he must have his double espresso at Le Pain Quotidien….”
Typical. Hubert would insist on getting coffee at the only restaurant whose name is as pretentious as he is.
“Anyway,” he finished, “he’s been so busy running errands for me that he didn’t have time to class up my bathroom.”
“That’s too bad,” was the half sentence I spoke. The full sentence being “That’s too bad he’s continually lying to you.”
“He’s like Superman. He’ll watch rehearsal, give me some great feedback, run out and do some heavy-duty assisting stuff, and then be back at rehearsal for more feedback.”
“What kind of assisting stuff?” I asked, just to see if Chase would list everything I’ve done this week.
He did.
“You know,” Chase said as he shaved his left cheek, “picking up dry cleaning, mailing out autographed photos, getting my dressing room stocked up for a long run with my fave foods…”
Yep. I listened as he named all the errands that I had done. I started to obsess: What was Hubert doing when he claimed to be doing everything I was doing? Visiting friends on the Upper West Side with that redheaded guy? Why so secretive? Was the guy his boyfriend and he was hiding it for some reason?
And I still didn’t understand why I was finally allowed at the theater and where Hubert was off to.
Well, I could find out some of that information.
“What’s Hubert doing now?” I asked.
“He’s flying to Kansas tonight to visit family, so I gave him the rest of the day off. It worked out perfectly that you were finally able to get to the theater today.”
“Well,” I said, just to see what Hubert told Chase, “I probably could have come a few days ago….”
Chase shook his head. “I wouldn’t want you to have gotten in trouble. Hubert told me that your school made you do that New York orientation all last week.” What a liar. “And then he told me how out of the blue they decided a Broadway internship wasn’t academic enough.”
He kept talking as he shaved his upper lip. “I know people think theater is all fun and games, but I believe you can learn a lot from being here. You must have been so upset when they told you to come back to school and resume your regular classes this week.”
Wow. I was speechless from all the maneuvering Hubert had done to keep me away.
So why was I here?
“Well, I’m glad it worked out. It was…unexpected.” I wanted to hear what he thought happened.
“Well, you may not know it, but you can thank Hubert for that.”
“I sure will.” Never. “Why?”
“Well, I found out from the stage manager what school you went to and was just about to call and give your principal a piece of my mind when Hubert came through.”
“He did?” I asked.
Chase beamed. “He’s so great. While I was rehearsing, he beat me to the punch and called the school. He said he pleaded with your principal and told him how important it was that you spend at least one day at the theater. That’s why you’re here today!”
In other words, Hubert knew his cover would be blown if Chase called the school, so he had no choice but to make up a story and let me come to rehearsal.
But how odd that he suddenly was out of town.
“When did he decide to go see his family?” I asked innocently.
“A cousin of his just gave birth. It’s real premature. I never even knew she was pregnant.” That’s because she doesn’t exist, I thought. “He felt he needed to be there for support.” He gave me a classic Chase smile. “I’m glad you’re available today. It was very last minute.”
Last minute indeed. I’m positive that his decision to go out of town has something to do with me being at the theater.
So much mystery. So many lies. And why was Chase so dedicated to him? Did Hubert also know some horrible secret about him that he was threatening to tell?
“That’s very caring of him,” I said, trying to sound believable.
He turned away from the mirror and looked at me. “I know Hubert can be hard sometimes, like when we met you at Phantom, but he’s just doing it because he cares a lot about me.”
“He does?” I meant that to sound like, “Yes, he does.” But it came out as a question.
“Yeah, he does.” Then a cloud seemed to pass over Chase’s face. “He was really there for me after my mom passed away four years ago.”
I had read that he lost his mother in a car accident. She had raised him as a single mom and the loss must have been devastating. Hubert had obviously helped him through that and Chase was thankful. But thankful enough to deal with Hubert’s awful personality every day? Even if Hubert put on a nice-guy act around Chase, didn’t Chase’s other friends tell him how horrible he was?
Chase turned back to the sink and washed the shaving cream off his face. “I was pretty messed up after I lost her. We were really close.” Chase reached for his towel. “Hubert helped me out and wound up completely changing my life.”
“Oh?” I said noncommittally.
“Oh yeah! Before I met him, I had a whole team of people working for me.”
“Where are they now?” I asked.
“Gone. Hubert made me realize that they were out for themselves and not for me. And turns out, he was able to do their jobs better than they were!”
Wow. It’s pretty clear that Hubert got rid of any naysayers and now controls everything in Chase’s life.
He nodded a few times. “I trust him more than anybody.”
Cha
se dried off his face with the towel that looked the most dry and scratchy and actually said “ow” at one point.
But back to the basic question: What was Hubert hiding and why? For instance, why tell me to buy the most expensive bathroom stuff and then give Chase sandpaper towels? Was it a surprise for later? If so, when is he gonna spring it on him? Chase already moved into his dressing room. And, now that I think about it, how could Hubert not know the theater’s address for delivery? He texted me the address days ago!
Something severely strange is going on. I had given up on finding out what Hubert was up to. But Chase was being so nice to me. If Hubert was somehow scamming him, he deserved to know. I decided to figure out what Hubert was up to. And somehow keep my secret safe.
A few minutes after Chase finished shaving, I heard a voice over a loudspeaker calling all the actors to the stage. Chase told me he’d be out in a minute and ran into the bathroom. I stood alone in the dressing room. One day I’ll be in a dressing room just like this getting called to the stage. I looked at the row of Chase’s costumes and thought about what it would feel like to wear one of them under the stage lights.
The voice came over the loudspeaker again. “Once more, all actors to the stage.”
All actors.
I wondered what it would be like when that announcement pertained to me. I checked my hair in the dressing room mirror, then hummed a little to see if my voice was in shape to sing. I ignored my fifteen-second coughing fit and decided I was warmed up. Then I stretched my hamstrings and my calves. Of course, that made my lower back have a spasm, but I still felt like I was ready to go onstage. I heard the other cast members making their way downstairs from their dressing rooms, and for a minute, I felt like I was a real Broadway actor.
“Here we go,” Chase said as he pocketed a couple of cough drops.
We walked out of the dressing room and I waited for him to open the door that led to the audience area and for me to become just another observer. Instead, we walked right past the door…and onto the stage! As soon as we stepped past the wings, I could hardly breathe. There I was, standing in the exact place I’ve always dreamed of. Well, truth be told, we were on the right side of the stage and I’ve always dreamed of being directly in the center, but nonetheless I was on a Broadway stage! The perspective I was used to was totally reversed; instead of sitting in a seat and looking at the stage, I was on the stage looking at the seats! Theater people were all around me; the dancers were on the floor stretching and everyone else was either standing or sitting on various set pieces. It looked like there were around twenty people in the cast and they all got quiet when Chase clapped his hands.
“Hey!” he announced. “This is my friend Justin Goldblatt!”
How cool that he called me his friend!
“He’s going to assist throughout rehearsal….” And one day be on this stage with all of you, I wanted him to add, but he didn’t.
“So,” he finished, “everyone say hi!”
Everyone waved and said hi, and I waved back. It was so cool! People in an actual Broadway show now knew who I was! I realized there were probably producers in the audience as well as the director and choreographer, and I suddenly thought about all those stars who were first spotted by casting agents while walking around a mall or at a coffee shop. I was on a Broadway stage! What better place to be discovered? I scanned the crowd, hoping I would see someone running up to me and giving me a contract.
I turned to my right…and there was someone running up to me! Yes! It was a bald guy who was carrying a clipboard. Perhaps to write down my information! Do I give my home number? My agent’s number? Don’t I first need to have an agent in order to give out his number?
“Can I help you?” I asked in a singsong manner, adding a little vibrato on the last word to show what a great voice I have.
I waited for the “You’re the exact type we’ve been missing from this show! When can you begin performances?” Instead, I heard, “Jared, we’re about to begin, so you’ll need to leave the stage.”
Leave the stage?
Jared?!
“It’s Justin,” I said, disappointed.
“Oh, that’s right! Justin,” he said with an embarrassed smile. He put out his hand. “I’m the assistant stage manager, Gary.”
I shook his hand and let him lead me off the stage.
When we were in the wings, he looked at me again. “You’re with Chase today, right?”
“Yes,” I said with a big smile. “I’m here to help!”
He looked away and muttered, “Well, he needs help.”
I was about to ask what he meant, but then an actor in a sheriff’s uniform called Gary’s name and he started walking away. “That door will take you right to the audience,” he said as he pointed over my shoulder. I had no choice but to leave.
Hmm…Chase needs help? How? Because Hubert is devious? Or for some other reason?
Unfortunately, I soon found out.
First, I went into the audience and noticed I could pretty much sit anywhere. Finally, I could get a great seat on the aisle and not have to babysit for six weeks to pay for it! Then I noticed that around fifteen rows back, across a whole row of seats, there was a makeshift table set up with people sitting behind it. I casually walked by and right away recognized Peter Geraci, who was sitting right in the middle. He’s very recognizable because he has black hair that’s obviously dyed and a full silver beard. Why try to pretend you’re young only above your eyebrows? Peter is British but has been directing on Broadway for years. However, all of his hits have been plays. When it was announced that he was going to direct Thousand-Watt Smile, all the people on the theater message boards went crazy because Peter’s so British and the show is so American. And it’s his first musical. I could tell just by looking at him that he was feeling stressed. I don’t mean to imply I had some sixth sense that picked up on his tension level. I literally could tell by looking at him. The theater was freezing, but he had two enormous sweat stains under his arms and was continuously wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. I assumed that the other people around him were the choreographer and lighting/set/costume/sound designers as well as the stage management team. Like Peter, they also seemed to be severely tense. Yet again, no sixth sense was needed on my part. All I needed were two ears because without even using my signature eavesdropping technique, I was able to make out parts of conversations with the following phrases: “What the hell are we supposed to do?” “I’m freaking out,” and “Shoot me now.”
What was everyone having a breakdown about?
I heard a British accent fill the air. “Hello, lads and lasses! Let’s settle down.”
I turned and saw Peter had a microphone and was speaking to the cast from the table area.
“We’re going to start with the opening number. Let’s take our places, shall we?”
Everyone left the stage except for Chase.
“Don’t forget,” he said, sounding nervous, “there’s a full orchestra underneath you, so I need you all to sing out.”
I could see the conductor standing in the orchestra pit and hear various instruments warming up.
“So, yet again,” Peter continued, “I need you to sing out.” He already said that. “Did you hear that, Chase?”
“Yes, Peter!” Chase called from the stage in a loud voice.
“Well, I told him,” I heard Peter say, not using his microphone.
“OK, Chase, old chap,” he said into his microphone, “let’s start right when you begin singing.”
“Gotcha!” Chase called back.
“Light cue eighteen…go!” someone behind the desk said, and all the lights changed to just a small spotlight on Chase. The orchestra began playing an introduction and soon Chase started singing. Or at least, I think he did. I mean, I saw his mouth moving, but boy, it was hard to hear him. I was sitting around seven rows back, so I figured I was too far away to hear him. I decided to move closer and tiptoed down to the front row. Wow.
Let me just say that my tiptoeing was actually ten times louder than Chase’s singing. What was happening? He had a mic on, but it seemed like he was testing how well it worked by singing in a whisper. I didn’t get it. Was the whole musical being sponsored by a hearing aid company and this was a tactic to boost sales? Was the song supposed to be quiet? I didn’t think so since I could see the music sitting on the conductor’s podium and the title was “Loud and Proud.”
Maybe the people behind the table had some special speaker system set up? I walked up the aisle and right when I got near the table, I heard Peter’s voice boom through the theater.
“Cut, please!”
I sat down right away in the row behind the table and Chase stopped singing. Not that I heard the sound end, I just saw his mouth stop moving.
“Chase?” Peter was talking into his microphone and his voice filled the theater.
“Yes?” Chase responded. That I heard. Chase’s speaking voice was a thousand times louder than his singing voice.
“Can you please sing out?”
“Peter! I’m singing it how I’m going to sing it in the show.” He smiled. “After all, I’m wearing a microphone.”
“Yes, but…” Peter moved his microphone away and spoke to the people around him. “Yes, but a microphone can’t pick up whispering! Chase, dear,” Peter said back into the microphone, “you really need to sing in a louder voice.”
“I don’t think my character would sing any louder,” Chase said with a shrug.
“But—”
“Look, Peter,” Chase said soothingly. “Let me try it during previews. If it doesn’t work, we can change it then.”
“Hold, please,” Peter said, and then huddled with the people behind the table. I was sitting low in my seat and the theater was still dark so they couldn’t see me.
The Rise and Fall of a Theater Geek Page 11