who. Gar Logan and Rose Frost what. Walking home where. NYC when. After his last performance as Roger Elizabeth De Bris in The Producers. Sunday.
It was during the middle of a musical number that Rose had been caught. She'd done a good job of arriving quietly, avoiding the crew and the cast members and Gar. She was the only fifteen year old in the audience and she sat in the back, all by herself. She'd gone to see Gar's show before with Sophie. She went again because she'd wanted to see him on stage while she could. Try as she might to deny it or hide it, Rose liked Gar. She liked watching him in his element. He was a good actor, funny and with enough presence to steal most of his scenes away from the leads. It figured. Gar was a ham. Acting was perfect for him.
He'd caught her eye while on stage, and Rose hadn't reacted. It'd only lasted a split second, really. And she hadn't wanted to make a big deal of the whole thing. Gar already had it in his head that she was smitten. She didn't need to hear him tease her because she'd shown again.
So once the play was over, she rose from her seat and left the building without so much as a word to Gar. She figured she'd speak to him some other night. He'd bring it up that she'd gone to his show twice, of course. But by then, she'd be able to come up with some cool weak excuse for it.