Page 74 of Tagging Bases

Charlie

As I makemy way down 7th Avenue, the iconic TKTS steps come into view, swarming with people taking pictures of Times Square. The energy is palpable, making me feel like I’m a part of something special, even if I’m nothing more than a small-town guy in a fancy suit.

I turn onto West 44th Street, and there it is—the Majestic Theater, its marquee glowing in the setting light.Tonight’s show isThe Phantom of the Opera,back in town for a limited engagement.

As I approach the theater, I spot Harrison leaning against the wall in a fitted leather jacket and dark jeans. It should be a crime to look as good as he does right now.

When he sees me, he pushes off the wall and strolls my way. “You clean up nice, McManus.”

My cheeks flush as I glance down at my suit. “Are you sure it’s not too much? I figured, you know, it’sThe Phantom of the Opera. I wanted to dress the part.”

Harrison chuckles. “Charlie, you’re adorably clueless. This isn’t the Met Gala. It’s a regular night at the theater.”

I glance around, noticing for the first time that everyoneelse is dressed the same as Harrison—jeans, jackets, even sneakers. “Oh, man. I look like a buffoon.”

“Nah, you look great,” he assures me. “Besides, you’re gonna be the best-dressed guy in the room. And trust me, that’s not always a bad thing.”

I grin. “Thanks, H. How’s Danielle? Still puking her guts out?”

Harrison nods solemnly. “Last I heard. She’s devastated to miss it, but I’m sure she’ll drag me to another show soon enough.”

“Lucky for me, I guess. I always wanted to see this one, but Danny Boy isn’t a musical kind of guy.”

Harrison reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out two tickets. He hands one over to me with a flourish. “Your ticket, good sir,” he says in a posh British accent.

“Thanks.” I examine it closely, hoping like hell it’s not counterfeit. “So, what’s it about, anyway?” I gesture to the marquee.

Harrison raises an eyebrow. “You don’t know the story?”

“I tried to watch the movie the other day, but I fell asleep five minutes in. And that’s saying something because I have a massive crush on Gerard ButlerandEmmy Rossum.”

Harrison smirks and shakes his head.

“Come on, H, give me the CliffsNotes version. I want to have a clue before we go in.”

He leans back against the wall and crosses his arms over his chest. “All right. It’s about a disfigured musical genius who lives in the catacombs beneath the Paris Opera House. He falls in love with a young soprano named Christine and becomes her mysterious mentor, helping her rise to stardom. However, there’s a love triangle because Christine is also in love with the handsome nobleman, Raoul.”

I nod, trying to picture it all. “It sounds likeBeauty and the Beast,but with more singing.”

“Something like that,” Harrison says. “It’s full of passion, unrequited love, and some of the best tunes ever written. ThePhantom isn’t just some creepy stalker; he’s a tragic figure. You end up sympathizing with him by the end of it.”

The theater doors open. Harrison and I hang back for a moment, letting the crowd thin out.

“It sounds intense,” I say. “I hope I stay awake.”

Harrison laughs. “If you don’t, I’ll be sure to poke you with something sharp.”

“Promise?” I say, waggling my eyebrows.

We enter the lavish theater, and I gawk at our surroundings. The plush red carpets, the gleaming gold accents, the intricate carvings on the walls—it’s as if I’ve stepped into a fairy tale.

Harrison, of course, is right at home, striding confidently through the crowd with his hands in his pockets. I follow close behind while trying not to trip over my own feet. It’s been a while since I’ve worn dress shoes.

An usher scans our tickets, hands us our playbills, and says, “Enjoy the show.”

“Orchestra, Row F,” I read off the ticket before checking the letters on the armrests. “I guess Danielle really wanted good seats for this one.”

“She has connections,” Harrison says with a shrug, though I can tell he’s pleased. “But yeah, she doesn’t mess around when it comes to the theater.”

---