The lights in the old Pearl Street Playhouse didn't just flicker; they sighed.
Elias, the new technical director, stood on the hollow stage and stared at the back wall. It was a mess of scuffed plaster and water stains—a death sentence for the upcoming production of The Tempest . He pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over the budget spreadsheet, and typed a frantic search: buy cyclorama
"You're buying a portal, not a rug," the old janitor, Gus, croaked from the wings. The lights in the old Pearl Street Playhouse