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By Fleur Phillips, March 12, 2012 6:06 am

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Theatre is sexy. Backstage is dimly lit, with the subtle glow of the onstage lights streaming through the dust of the wooden flats. There are dark corners and pre-determined soundless moments. It’s hot, too. Heat-hot from the lights, and sex-hot from the right chemistry and synchronicity.

Give a couple of prepubescent teens two-and-a-half hours with minimal supervision off-stage, and the theatre can and will do its magic.

I began acting in the theatre at seven. By the time I was 12, I was a horny adolescent girl, and Tony Snow was my equally horny adolescent target. I met him while doing The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. (Cue: howling wind and horse hoof-beats.)

It was the perfect dark and creepy story for a young girl’s first “show-mance.”

It didn’t take long before I realized he wanted me, too. What we wanted… we weren’t quite sure, yet. But we were more than willing to explore the possibilities. We were the reigning Sleepy Hollow item.

Tony and I shared the same path backstage as we headed from one exit to the next entrance. I’d lead as we ran off-stage through the concourse into the Green Room, past the rehearsal hall, and cut through the Very Dark Hallway–a hallway that was sealed by two sets of double-doors on either end.

When both sets of double-doors were closed, it was pitch-black in that hallway. Verily Dark.

The sign on the door read: THESE DOORS MUST REMAIN CLOSED DURING PERFORMANCE.

These doors must remain closed….

Continue reading 'The Boy Who Only Wanted One Thing'»

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By Fleur Phillips, February 13, 2012 6:00 am

Image by www.GirlsLife.com

When I was in fifth grade, I had a wicked crush on Pierce Leves. Pierce was “it” for me. And Rebekah Rabinowitz knew it.

She also knew that I was too shy to do anything but love him from afar (oh no, I was not the fleurt I am today). Deciding to play matchmaker, Rebekah bandied back and forth between Pierce and me, asking questions like, “Would you go with Flew-er if she’d go with you?” And, “Would you go with Pierce if he’d go with you?”

After several days of negotiations, Rebekah darted up to my desk: “Oh my God, you are going with Pierce! He totally wants to go with you. Will you?”

I swallowed. “Yeah, okay.”

“Oh my God,” she squealed, again. “You’re going with him now! You’re going with Pierce! Pierce, you’re going with Flew-er now. You’re going with each other!”

I didn’t let on, but I was psyched. I was also terrified.

From that moment on, Pierce and I did not say one word to each other. Come to think of it, we hadn’t really said one word to each other up to that point, anyway. But now, we were actively not saying one word to each other.

Still, though I didn’t know what to do with him, I had a boyfriend. My boyfriend, Pierce. Pierce, with whom I never spoke. Pierce, with whom I never glanced.  Pierce, with whom I never… anything.

One day, I did find myself standing next to him. He turned to me, and for the first time, we made eye contact:

Continue reading 'The Boy Who Got Away (With It)'»