Last night, Katie and I painted the town red – and black (the dark of ages past) – when we took in opening night of Les Misérables at the Boston Opera House.
For me, this was more than just a night at the theater. It was a symbol of our friendship. It was a reminder of that time 9 years ago (yes, I feel old when I say that) when we first saw Les Mis on stage (also through Broadway in Boston) with the music department of our high school. The way we felt when the barricade folded and the stage started spinning. The shock and awe of watching a musical – and this musical especially – reveal the fate of each character and rip your heart away in the process.
Then, the production we did our senior year of high school, where we built the barricade by hand, stayed up late sewing tri-color scarves, and scoured HomeGoods for the best silver candlesticks $30 could buy.
And then, a reminder of London, of the six months we spent there together, eating waffles in Hyde Park, shopping on Portobello Road, and deciding on a whim to go see the stage production there, buying tickets after class and eating ice cream in the balcony during intermission.
All that brought us here, to our sweet little Boston apartment with photos of our lives on the walls, a Big Ben shower curtain, and a roommate who knows how to finish whatever musical tune you start.
Now, ON WITH THE SHOW! Spoilers ahead!