Page 77 of If Ever

“Great show, man. Incredible.” Dominic shakes his hand.

I say, “Wow.” Because no words can express my feelings.

His eyes soften. "Thanks. Come on in." He holds the door wide.

He's lean and lanky wearing a fitted navy T-shirt. His costume is draped over a chair and he's wearing dark jeans but no shoes or socks. "Sorry, I'm running late. I got caught up by the stage manager."

"The show was amazing. You were...I don't even know what to say, other than phenomenal," I gush.

His smile is tender. "I'm glad you liked it."

"I don't know how you do it. I'm wrung out from the experience. You must be exhausted."

"Usually I am, but tonight I'm jazzed to have you guys here." He pulls a black button-down shirt out of his closet and slips into it.

I take in all the chaos and coziness of his dressing room. There's a love seat and two comfortable chairs around a coffee table, art on the walls and a colorful rug on the floor.

"Pretty nice space you've got," Dominic says.

"It's the nicest dressing room I've ever had. My sister decorated it. I spend enough time here, so I wanted it to be comfortable." He buttons his shirt.

I notice a Drama League Award on a shelf and another for opening the show.

He sits down to put on his shoes and socks. "Are you guys still up for a late dinner?"

"Absolutely." I squint at pictures of Tom with true A-list celebrities tucked into the side of his mirror. There's the lead guy from Star Wars, a couple of people from Game of Thrones, and is that T-Swift?

"Would you like a tour of the theater?" He asks, maybe to distract me from the wall of fame.

"Are we allowed?" I decide to play it cool and not comment about his famous meet and greets.

"Of course." He grabs his coat and backpack and leads us down to the backstage area. It's incredibly organized and crowded with set pieces pushed back against the walls, small prop items set on shelves, and white tape marking the floor. "I had no idea how crowded it was back here."

"If you look up you'll see more."

Sure enough, above us the air is filled with hanging set pieces and backdrops.

"It can be a real obstacle course just trying to get off and on stage. One wrong move and someone gets hurt, but the setting and acoustics are phenomenal."

We go another level lower and he points out the wig room, laundry room, several group dressing rooms, and the trap room where he disappeared to after a fight scene. We pepper him with questions, which he patiently answers.

When we come back up, the stage is empty except for a tall floor lamp with no shade. A single bulb casts the stage in an eerie light.

"What's that for?"

"It's a ghost light," Dominic says.

I glance at Tom. "What’s that mean?"

"There are lots of myths about how ghost lights are to keep the ghosts company or to ward them off, depending on who you ask; but their real purpose is to prevent anyone from accidentally falling into the pit."

I peer into the orchestra pit. It would be a nasty fall in the dark. We make our way back to the stage door where a couple of cast members are zipping up their coats.

A ginger-haired woman smiles at Tom and slides her hand up his arm to his shoulder. "There you are. Some of us are going for a drink. Join us."

I'm a little taken aback by her familiarity and reminded of how little I know him.

"Thanks, Tanya, but I'm going to dinner with friends." Tanya pouts, but Tom is unfazed. "Chelsea, Dominic, this is Tanya and Rhonda. They're in the ensemble."

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