I hugged my arms over my chest and stared up at the grid overhead, the lights shifting through their preshow check. The sound of the hustle and bustle of the theater faded from my ears as I tried to absorb as much as possible in these few valuable seconds. Me – on a Broadway stage. The lights illuminating my Georgia-girl-tries-to-look-hip-for-the-big-city outfit. I tried to fight back the well of emotions that threatened to disrupt my composure and absently twirled the end of my ponytail.
"Charlie, let's GO!" my friend called out to me, having made it further than one step onto the expanse of stage ahead of me. I caught up, pulling myself together.
"Are you sure this is okay?" I asked, feeling very out of place compared to the sea of agile, muscular dancers contorting their bodies into pre-show warmups and running through segments of the choreography. "Aren't we in the way or being disruptive or some- oh my god, I am so sorry!" I hastily backed away from the dancer whose bag I had tripped over in my slightly manic state.
"We are FINE, I promise. I just have to find Jessica and we'll say hi before the show starts." Mina grabbed onto my hand, unsatisfied with my dazed pace. She looked every bit the hip New Yorker, striding across the Broadway stage like she belonged there in a baby blue suede mini skirt and a black crop top that revealed more than it hid. I followed anxiously, trying to imprint as much as possible into my memory so I could go back later and savor every moment.
While I was not a performer – my intense aversion to all three aspects of the "triple threat" kept me from any sort of dream of being onstage – it was still intoxicating to catch a glimpse of the rows of red, plush seats that faded into ambiguous darkness when the stage lights no longer penetrated the cavernous theater. I scanned the stage for fast-walking, fast-talking crew members in black or on headset, sure indicators of the career I was intent on pursing after I graduated.
"JESSICA!" I heard squealed at a pitch that would rival any note hit in this show. I came to a halt as Mina threw her arms around a gorgeous girl with a Mohawk that added a solid six inches to her height, already in the tan corset and breeches that have become iconic since the show opened.
I stood back patiently as they caught up exuberantly, gushing about Mina's summer internship in the city and Jessica's recent success getting cast in the ensemble of the smash hit Hamilton which, if you haven't guessed already, is where we were hastily visiting before the cast's half hour call.
"This is my friend from work, Charlie!" Mina said, grabbing my arm and pulling me into the conversation. "She just got a position with us and a BABE and this is like her second time in New York EVER."
Jessica shook my hand excitedly. "How have you never been here more than that?" she asked, laughing.
I couldn't help but smile too. "I'm from a bit further away than most people in the program!" I said, laughing. "It's a bit of a trek to make it all the way up to the Big Apple. I'm from Georgia," I explained.
"Oh my god, no joke," Jessica replied. "I could literally pick out your accent from a crowd of a thousand. You sound so freaking adorable!"
I laughed, flushing a little, still not used to that reaction since moving to New York. "I mean, I can't really do much about it I-," I replied over her giggles.
"I have GOT to introduce you to everyone," Jessica said, grabbing both of our arms. She took us around the stage, introducing us to the intimidating herd of dancers, some in their costumes already, and others warming up in anachronistic dance clothes. I tried not to act too star-struck as I absorbed the names of the cast that bantered and joked with each other like siblings.
"Most of the principles are getting ready in their dressing rooms," Jessica explained when she caught
Mina looking around the stage after introductions.
Mina blushed, called out for her shameless celebrity seeking. "I'm sorry! I just cannot believe we are here. This is absolutely wild."
Jessica laughed. "You're telling me. I couldn't talk to any of the leads for the first month of shows for fear I would fall flat on my face and die of embarrassment. But I'll introduce you if anyone is around! They are absolutely so kind and so completely normal." She caught a glimpse of someone behind us.
"Well, maybe not everyone is THAT normal."
I turned around to see who she was looking at, and my world fell apart around me.
I think it was the eyes that did it. It took me a second to register who I was looking at, and by the time I did, we made eye contact that sent chills down my back. He was talking to a friend that I immediately recognized as Daveed, both laughing and strolling onstage from the back of the set together. I bit back a smile at his outfit – the bottom half breeches and stockings that were immediately identifiable as the first act look for his character, but the top an old, worn-out t-shirt proclaiming "Wesleyan Cardinals" across the front, with a set of large, fancy looking headphones slung casually around his neck. His hair was down, not yet tamed into submission by the hair and makeup team, and he pushed it out of the way right before his eyes came up to meet mine. Large, wide open, framed with laugh lines and worry lines embedded in his tan skin, his eyes connected with mine with a luminance that the pictures I had seen before couldn't begin to capture. He looked confused at first, clearly distracted from whatever Daveed was trying to tell him, his shifted focus obvious. I blushed, feeling that gaze like a spotlight, and tried to refocus back on Mina and Jessica, who were having a hushed debate over whether Jessica should walk over and introduce them.
He strode over, briefly distracted by a few castmates pausing their warmup routines to greet him. I didn't blame them – as he moved across the stage, his presence was almost magnetic. Even if they didn't actively engage with him, everyone was briefly aware "okay, he just came in, Lin is here". Even more striking was the fact that he didn't actively seek their attention or approval – he was simply dynamic, authentic, and engaging. His laugh was contagious, his energy was uplifting. It took me a second to place what exactly it was that stood out, and I smiled when it hit me – it was his gratitude. He was as thankful to be walking across that stage as the youngest, most rookie ensemble member. He recognized his success as a gift, and not a right. His gratitude and happiness filled the room like light – like oxygen. I blushed deeper, trying to shake these thoughts from my head and stay present.
He slung an arm over Jessica's shoulder. "Jess, my main girl, are you ready for tonight?" he said, grinning at her, but glancing up at me again, his look sending a shock through my body.
She laughed, flustered by his casual attention. "I was BORN ready, Lin," she retorted. Noticing his quizzical look, she hastened to introduce us. "This is my good friend Mina – we were dancers together in our first job in the city. And this is her friend-" she blushed, having forgotten my name briefly.
"Charlie," I said, finally looking right back at him.
"Charlie," he said, meeting my gaze full-on. No hesitation or distraction, no impatience or mirth. Just an inhale as I felt my face grow warm and I felt the room swirl around me. I broke off the look as I felt Mina squeeze my hand.
"We really should go-" she began, as the stage manager's half our call resonated over the intercom system. I twisted my ponytail in my fingers, suddenly embarrassed by my lack of eloquence – or words at all, for that manner. She and Jessica broke into a chatter again as they hugged, Mina shaking Lin's hand one last time.
"Go?" he asked, interrupting their conversation, his eyes moving towards me and then back to Mina. "Aren't you staying and watching the show?"
"Yeah, right," Mina laughed. "We're going to hang out for a while until Jess is done." She hastened to clarify at his confused look. "I mean- we totally would, obviously. But it's sold out like months in advance and there's no way we could get in, but break legs of course and I'm sure it'll be-"
"Come and see it!" he interrupted, rocking back on his heels with enthusiasm. "I'll talk to the box office manager – we can make it happen, I bet. Or if not, you can watch from the booth. Or the catwalk. Or something. We can make it work. If you want to, I mean, only if you want-"
I was pretty sure I felt Mina's brain explode from where I was standing. Realizing that she wasn't going to be able to form coherent sentences in the next few minutes, I took over. "We don't want to be any trouble-" Mina's elbow jabbed me in the ribs.
"It's no trouble! I can make it happen," he interrupted, flashing a smile at me.
"Thank you, Mr. Miranda," I said, unable to stop from smiling back.
"Lin," he said, offering his hand out.
"Lin," I said, shaking his hand firmly. Both of our smiles faded slightly and I felt the hairs stand up on the back of my neck as I saw a wave of thoughts flicker across his face. I suddenly wondered what was crossing mine. Mina cleared her throat slightly as I pulled my hand back. "Break a leg," I managed to get out, taking a step back and running my fingers through my hair, not breaking eye contact.
"Enjoy the show," he shot back, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back on his heels, before flashing a smile and Mina and Jessica, then heading back among the crowd.