Page 64 of Less
Perfect.
I close my eyes and slip into the role.
Christine alone.
Contemplating the Phantom's offer.
No pressure.
Just the opening emotional centerpiece of the entire show.
Wonderful.
I walk toward center stage.
Behind me, I hear Less moving off to the side.
Giving me space.
Always watching.
Always close enough.
And somehow, just knowing he's there settles me.
He always did.
I take my mark.
Lift my chin.
Take a deep breath.
And suddenly—the world disappears.
No fear.
No doubts.
No broken heart.
No stalkers.
No critics.
Just music.
I open my mouth to loose the first note—but then I hear Less shout.
“AMANDA! WATCH OUT!”
Everything happens at once.
I hear a horrible metallic groan.
People start screaming.
There’s a crash.
