The Rise and Fall of a Theater Geek

by Seth Rudetsky

  He nodded seriously.

  It took two desserts (both for me), but we came up with a plan.

  I went back to the theater this morning and immediately hightailed it to Chase’s dressing room.

  “Chase!” I said after I knocked. “I’m so sorry about the gossip sites.”

  He actually smiled. “Oh, Justin. There’s been so much gossip about me throughout the years that it’s pretty easy for me to ignore it all.”

  Maybe he didn’t know how specific the gossip was. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but perhaps he’d stop stinking up the joint if he really knew what they were saying about it.

  I took a deep breath. “Chase, they’re saying you can’t act. Or sing.”

  He shook his head. “Justin, there will always be people who challenge artistic choices. It doesn’t bother me.”

  How could he think his whisper singing and unfunniness were artistic choices?

  I left his dressing room and headed into the theater. There was a different energy in the air. Yesterday, even with all of Chase’s annoyingness, people were laughing during the breaks. Today, every time the stage manager yelled, “Take ten!” people seemed to keep to themselves. ThousandWattInsider had spread a pall over the theater.

  Not surprisingly, Chase made the same bizarre choices as yesterday. However, I’d say today’s were even worse. For instance, Chase had a witty line at the top of Act Two and he got a big laugh on it from me and the creative team because the face he was making was hilarious. After lunch, the director started the scene again and this time Chase delivered it with his back facing the audience! Yet again, he said he wanted to “try it during previews.” It was maddening! Why would he try such a stupid idea when it was so obvious it wouldn’t work?

  I was loving watching the cool parts of rehearsal, but I was also working feverishly on my laptop during the boring parts. My assignment (which Devon gave me last night) was to write down everything that had happened since the internship started and then make a list of all the unanswered questions that were driving me crazy. For instance, where is Hubert? Last night, Devon and I concluded that there’s no way he’s helping his mysterious cousin in Kansas. But is he out of town somewhere else? Or is he hiding somewhere in New York?

  We wracked our brains trying to figure out a way to track him when I remembered something Chase said yesterday in his dressing room. When I had mentioned how particular Hubert was, Chase agreed and told me that Hubert had to get his coffee at Le Pain Quotidien every morning. I found a picture of Hubert online so Devon would know what he looked like (essentially a navel orange with blond hair), and Devon planted himself at Le Pain Quotidien in the early morning.

  He texted me right when rehearsal began at ten. However, all it said was SS.

  I texted him, What does SS mean?

  Devon immediately wrote back. Will respond later. Don’t want to leave paper trail.

  I wrote back. Devon. Texts aren’t on paper.

  No response.

  Finally, I called him on a break and he explained his first text of the day, which, I was relieved to find out, was not a reference to Nazi storm troopers. According to Devon, it was code for “Subject spotted.”

  Really? Why not just write “He’s here”? It’s just as mysterious to outside eyes but also actually makes sense. Devon claimed he had no more time to talk because “the subject is mobile.” I guess that meant Hubert was walking. After that phone call, I had to focus intensely on nonstop code translating. After much guesswork, I figured out that S@BBB meant “Subject at Bed Bath & Beyond,” SonPTrsport meant “Subject on public transport” (subway), and S@ZBRS meant “Subject at Zabar’s.” Once, it took me twenty minutes to realize “eeoINr” was the result of Devon sitting down while his phone was in his back pocket.

  During lunch, Chase came over and asked me to do some quick errands. While I was getting him some fresh flowers at a florist on Eighth Avenue to liven up his dressing room, he texted and asked me to bring him back two packs of sugarless bubble gum. The text came from his actual cell phone, so I now have a celebrity number in my phone!! Ah!

  I did some more errands and dropped everything in Chase’s dressing room right before lunch ended. I sat back in the audience when rehearsals began again and tried to focus on why Hubert would lie about leaving New York. What was he doing here? From Devon’s bizarre coded texts, it sounded like he was just having a relaxing day on the Upper West Side. So why pretend to leave? This is something that I needed to figure out tonight with Devon’s help.

  Besides making my list of mysteries and breaking Devon’s infuriating code, my other project was keeping one eye peeled to see who could be ThousandWattInsider. I knew that he or she wouldn’t be obviously making fun of the show, so I was on the lookout for some discreet negativity, things like lip pursing, deep sighing, or muttering passive-aggressive comments. Unfortunately, that criteria soon led me to conclude that every single person in the cast could be ThousandWattInsider. As well as the entire creative team. The only one I didn’t suspect was Chase because he obviously loved the show and was working incredibly hard. He’s just a terrible singer and actor.

  I had hoped for a full run-through, but yet again it was an incredibly slow tech. Made slower by Chase. I noticed that after every break, Chase would come back to a scene and change something. Sometimes the staging, sometimes a line, always for the worse. It seemed that the stage manager was so busy doing the actual tech that the responsibility for keeping track of all the changes fell to Gary, the assistant. He was constantly typing new lines/staging into his laptop, which he would then print out and distribute to the cast. The wasting of paper was mind-boggling. Chase would make a change and then on the next break, he’d come back and change it again. I barely had any assisting to do, so I volunteered to help Gary and be in charge of carting away all of the old script pages, which kept piling up. Well, by my fourth trip to the paper bin, it was completely filled up. I took out the entire bag of paper and put in a new one. Since it was recyclables, the bag was clear, and when I put it on the floor, I saw something very familiar through the plastic.

  He’s a fake was written on a small piece of paper.

  What?! That was the note I got! How did it get here? I opened the bag and found an envelope addressed to Gary in that Phantom’s handwriting! Gary got the same note? I ran back to rehearsal with the envelope and note and held them tightly in my lap. Finally, the stage manager called for a break and I made a beeline for Gary. I followed him as he walked to the backstage area where the coffee was.

  “What’s up, Justin?” he asked as we maneuvered our way past actors in various costumes who were heading either for the coffee machine, their dressing room, the bathroom, or outside to smoke.

  “Um…,” I muttered as we passed near the stage manager’s office, “can we go in here? It’ll only take a minute and I promise you can get your coffee.”

  “Sure…,” he said, sounding friendly but suspicious.

  It was just the two of us and I closed the door. Then I held out the letter.

  He looked at it and then back up at me. “Did that fall out of the bin? Just recycle it.”

  “It didn’t fall out. I took it out. Do you know what it means?”

  “Means?” he said. “Yeah, it means that Chase has crazy stalkers.”

  Aha! “It’s for Chase?”

  “Well, no. It’s about Chase. It’s for the entire cast. We’ve all gotten them.”

  Everyone? This was bigger than I thought!

  “What do they mean?”

  “Who knows? Every couple of days one of the actors or producers gets a note. They all say things like ‘Don’t believe him!’ or ‘Everything’s a lie!’ ”

  “How do you know they’re about Chase?”

  He leaned against a desk that had three-hole punches, paper clips, and Scotch tape everywhere. “The first day I got one was the first day we began. It had been sent to the rehearsal studio and the front desk delivered it.”


  “What did it say?”

  He thought for a minute. “I think that one was ‘He’s not what he seems.’ ” He shrugged. “Anyway, Chase saw it sitting on the desk and said it was from some silly fan and I should just ignore it. I suggested showing them to the police, but Chase was adamant that I shouldn’t.” Why? “So even though we get them all the time, we all just laugh ’em off. Especially Chase.”

  So Chase knows about the Phantom…but how does the Phantom know about me?

  “Did you get one today?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “Funny you should ask. Even though Chase told us to ignore them, I’ve asked the cast to give them to me whenever they get one, in case something changes and they get threatening. Usually, I collect around ten a day. But today, nobody handed me a note.”

  Why is today different? Another question to add to my list.

  Hmm…Chase may know more about the Phantom than he’s telling Gary. I decided to visit him during the break and try to find out. I thanked Gary and immediately ran to Chase’s dressing room still holding the note. I got to the door and saw he was sitting by his makeup mirror, typing on his laptop.

  “Knock-knock,” I said, and then immediately regretted it. That’s something my mother does that drives me crazy! Why is saying “knock-knock” better or easier than actually physically knocking?

  Thankfully, Chase smiled at me instead of giving me the reaction I usually give to my mother, which is to glare and ask, “Did you say something?” I emphasize the word “say” in order to show that she didn’t actually knock.

  “Can I come in?” I asked while walking in. Another thing I learned from ye olde mother. Why am I asking permission for something I’m already doing?

  “Sure!” he said with a big smile. “I hope you’re liking the last weekend of your internship.” He turned his chair around to face me.

  “Are you kidding me?” I said as I took a seat on the couch. “I’m so glad I’m getting these extra two days to be at rehearsal. It’s really educational.”

  It was. I’m learning how a Broadway show is put together. And how one person can ruin it. “If you need anything, Chase, I haven’t forgotten I’m still here to intern for you.” Obviously he hadn’t forgotten since he had just asked me to do errands, but I meant that I was available if he needed me to run lines with him onstage so I can finally see what it’s like to be on Broadway.

  That’s not what he asked for. Instead, he took out a bunch of business cards from one of his drawers. “Can you scan these and put the info in my laptop? Hubert usually does it, but he’s been super busy the last two weeks.” Doing what? I thought as Chase started putting the cards in a neat pile for me. “I meet so many people and I feel bad throwing them out. And I might need one of these services one day.”

  “Of course,” I said, looking at the cards. “Why, just this morning I was looking for”—I picked the craziest one I saw—“a holistic yoga instructor for dogs, cats, and their ‘people companions.’ ”

  He laughed and thanked me.

  I somehow fit them all in my pocket and suddenly realized I should be thanking him.

  “Chase, I want to thank you for your advice yesterday.”

  “Really? Did you apologize?” he asked, excited.

  “Yes!” I said, smiling.

  “And you guys worked it out?” He seemed so concerned. It was very sweet.

  “Yes! I actually wanted to meet him tonight for dinner, if I can leave at six?”

  “Of course you can!” Then he leaned in a little. “Is it a date?”

  “With Spencer? Oh, we’re not boyfriends anymore. I’m dating someone new.” Chase wasn’t the only one who could go in and out of relationships.

  Chase looked at me in shock for a second. Then he sighed. “Wow.” It was such an odd way of saying “wow.” Low energy and almost depressed.

  “What?”

  He smiled. “I’m thinking about when I first met you at Phantom. I was so impressed when you casually mentioned you were there with your boyfriend.”

  “Ex-boyfriend,” I corrected him.

  “Regardless, I think it’s really great how your generation is so comfortable being gay.”

  We are? “I don’t know about that. I mean, I kept it a big fat secret until last year.”

  He laughed. “Exactly! What are you? Fifteen?”

  Hmph. “Sixteen.”

  “Well, I didn’t admit it to myself till I was in my twenties.”

  Wait.

  What?

  He didn’t admit what to himself?

  “You’re”—I paused—“gay?”

  He nodded. “Just like you. But I don’t tell everybody.”

  OMG! “Who knows?” Was I one of the special ones?

  “Well, I always tell everyone I work with, of course.” I guess I wasn’t that special. “But I don’t talk about it to the general public or the press.” Well, at least he didn’t consider me the general public.

  I needed more info. “People is always writing about girls you’re dating.”

  He looked embarrassed. “I know. I have to keep up that image for Vicious Tongues.”

  “But the show’s been canceled,” I said while taking a handful of M&M’s that were in a bowl next to the couch.

  “Right…,” he said, and then stopped like he was thinking about it for the first time. “But still, I’ll probably go back to TV at some point and the sad truth is…it’s hard to get straight roles if everyone knows you’re gay. But”—he shrugged—“it’s also hard to pretend I’m dating different girls.”

  “Tell me about it!” I said as I feigned moving my phone to the table next to the couch when I was really taking another handful of M&M’s. “I pretended I was dating a girl last year and it took so much work. It’s much easier now that everyone knows I’m dating Spencer.” Uh-oh. “I mean, I dated Spencer. That’s over,” I said with finality. This time I didn’t pretend I was moving my phone. I just took a handful of M&M’s.

  Silence.

  “Are you dating someone?” I asked, putting the M&M’s in my mouth. Since I wasn’t the general public, I felt comfortable asking.

  “Oh yeah,” he said with a big grin. “Hubert.”

  I almost spit out the M&M’s.

  Almost.

  Naturally, I swallowed those M&Ms (I wasn’t going to let Hubert ruin my enjoyment of colorful chocolate deliciousness) but still…Chase and Hubert are a couple?!?!?!

  Oh.

  No.

  Can’t.

  Deal.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  I had to act like I didn’t want to throw up.

  “That’s so wonderful,” I said, using my years of acting training. I quickly stuffed my mouth full of another handful of M&M’s to push down my feelings, hoping Chase wouldn’t notice even though he was staring directly at me.

  “Hubert doesn’t like me telling a lot of people about us.”

  ’Cause he knows everyone will try to convince you to break up with him?

  “But I can tell you. We’ve been together for two years.”

  Do I dare?

  “So when is Hubert coming back to New York?” I said, deciding to fish for information.

  “Tomorrow night,” Chase said, taking three green M&M’s for himself. Hmph. So-called healthy portions. “He wouldn’t miss my first performance on Broadway.”

  “And…he’s in Kansas now?” I asked.

  “Yep.”

  “Kansas the state?”

  I asked that just for clarity. I’d hate to find out there’s a town called Kansas, New York, that’s twenty minutes upstate. Ever since I heard of Paris, Texas, I’m careful.

  Chase looked at me like I was odd but answered the question nonetheless. “Yes, he’s in Kansas the state.”

  “Can I ask you something?” I asked nervously.

  “Yes, you can have more M&M’s,” he said graciously, and I felt shame flood through my body.

  “No, thanks,” I sa
id, and then held up one of the notes. “Do you know who’s sending these?”

  His face suddenly closed down. “You got one, too?”

  “Actually, I’ve gotten a couple. Who’s sending them?”

  His face went back to smiling. “Oh, you know. Stars always have fans who are a little extreme.”

  Huh? “This doesn’t sound like a fan. The comments are pretty negative. They all say you’re—”

  He cut me off. “Look, it’s pretty common for celebs to have people leave them notes. And sometimes people go too far. But I’m not worried.”

  “Chase, do you know the person who’s sending them?”

  I left it gender neutral even though Grandma Sally had told me it was a man. I wanted to see what Chase knew.

  He paused for just a second. Then, “No, I don’t.”

  Why the pause? And why didn’t he care about the nonstop negative comments coming into the theater? “I think we should find out. Who knows if this fan will turn violent?”

  He laughed. “Believe me, he won’t.”

  He?

  “Or she!” he quickly added.

  Why so certain? “How do you know?”

  Again a pause. “Just a feeling.” Then another big smile. “Look, don’t worry about him.”

  Aha!

  “Or her.”

  Oh, brother.

  He got up and walked toward the door. “I’m gonna go over my script now, so…”

  He obviously wanted to end the conversation. I got the hint and walked out.

  “The guy is harmless,” he said as he closed the door.

  I knew it!

  The door opened and he popped his head out. “Or the girl!”

  That did it. He definitely knew who was sending the notes. But he didn’t want anyone else to know. Why?

  I was just the busybody to find out!

  Well, as the late afternoon wore on, my hopes for watching the whole show from start to finish faded away. They ran the same scene change again and again, trying to time out something called a “quick change” (that’s when an actor changes costumes in seconds). Anike, the leading lady, was supposed to walk offstage while wearing a dowdy button-down shirt and jeans and then the lights and set onstage would shift to a sassy nightclub. She was then supposed to come back onstage in an evening gown and a new hairstyle. She only had around fifteen seconds to completely change her outfit, shoes, jewelry, and wig. Every time she reentered, something was wrong: the back of her dress wasn’t zippered, her new wig wasn’t pinned on, she was missing her purse and a shoe, et cetera.