I wandered back to the giant wardrobe room to pick out an outfit. First, I got heels in my shoe size. Then I picked out a pair of ripped fishnets that stopped halfway up my thigh. I dug through the drawer and found the arm sleeves: one golden, one red with same-color feathers. I flipped through the racks and picked out a black corset with red lace to match the garter. But how to open it up? The laces were pulled tightly. I found a stool buried under strips of satin and glittery fabric, sat down on it, put on the shoes, stockings, and arm sleeves. I began loosening up the blood red strings on the corset. It was much harder than I imagined. Tugging and pulling, I heard a voice by the door:

"Don't take it personally, darling. You look nothing short of… irresistible in that nightgown. It's just that you should take in the moment the same way everyone else is. No one is watching."

But they will.

"No one will see you dressed like that."

But they will.

"Nothing bad will happen."

But they want to kill you .What little he knew.

Frank came toward me and extended an open hand to me. "Please, allow me." I took up on his offer to help and handed him the godforsaken lingerie. Within seconds it was open enough for me to shimmy into it. Of course, I sent him out of the room before I put it on. When I was done I told him to come back in. Frank nodded in approval. He grabbed my wrist and led me over to the cart, snatched the metal box, and instructed me to close my eyes. A few minutes later, after feeling some patting and rubbing, he told me, "Now, open."

I barely recognized the pale face staring back at me in the full-length mirror. He had outlined half of a red flordele on the left side, stretching from my lower cheek to the top of my forehead. The outrageous amounts of blush, eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick were necessary for stage makeup, but up close it seemed to make me look more like a clown. I raised my hand to touch the strange face staring back at me, but I put it back down, not wanting to ruin the makeup.

"I guess you like it?" he asked.

"What do you think? Of course!" I chuckled.

"Good. You ready?"

I nodded. "I believe so, Frank."

"Well, then, let's bring the house down, shall we?"

Not wanting to ruin is moment – after all, there was no one sitting in the audience – I simply agreed and slung my bag over my shoulder. We walked out of the room together.

"I have to make one last-minute check," he told me.

"No problem," I said. "Just give me the go." He smiled and ducked back into the wardrobe room. I ran to the back of the now-theater to drop off my bag by the spotlight. Well, I tried running. Seven-inch heels were new territory for someone who lived in Converse high-tops and flip flops. Making it across in one piece, I looked at the board full of buttons and switches and lights. I pressed one labeled "Music" and a second later the speakers blasted with the catchy intro. I looked to the stage. Frank was pushing the cart and recklessly fixing the statues-turned-mannequins to be in perfect condition. He made it over to my side and swiped his hands all over the board. The lights came up onstage, giving the white screen a pink tint. Heh, 'rose tint my world.' I smiled at my little joke. He shot a look at me. I nodded and quickly opened the red curtain. He pulled the De-Medusa switch on the wall, unfreezing Columbia. She started the act.

"It was great when it all began," she sang. I caught myself singing along too.

"I was a regular Frankie fan…"

"How do you know this song?" Frank asked me in bewilderment.

I thought for a moment. I finally answered, "You'd be surprised by how much I know."

He raised an eyebrow. "Alright, then." Picking up a flirty undertone, he murmured, "I have to get to my place. Care to join?"

"No thanks. I'm doing your spotlight, remember?"

"Ah, yes, that's right. Go ahead and get where you need to be." He seemed a bit disappointed. He started to leave but I stopped him, wrapping my arms around his upper torso. His arms, hanging in mid-air, eventually fell and his hands landed gingerly on my shoulder blades. Giving me a quick squeeze, his hands slithered down my arm. I shuddered, not knowing what he'd do next. One of his hands was in a fist when it made its way down. He took my hand with one of his, turned it palm-up, and placed his fist on top, releasing a small object onto it. He whispered, "It's from my jacket. Enjoy." He scuttled backstage.

I heard Janet sing, "The game has been suspended…" There wasn't much time. I ran as fast as my ridiculous pumps would allow down the stage stairs, up the side aisle, and around the corner to the spotlight. "Fanfare" was coming to a close. I turned the light on. The fog onstage calmed and Frank emerged. Locking the spotlight in place, I eased into the back corner seat, which reminded me of a beach chair. I looked down at my hand to see what Frank gave me. I traced the black outlined circle, filled with a white background and a black lightning bolt down the middle. I pinned the small button onto my corset, and I continued taking in the small spectacle onstage.