The performance will begin at the beginning.
It's only logical. Beginning at the beginning makes things easier to follow.
The first scene, then, will be the opening scene with which the performance begins.
Of course the performance will only start when it begins.
There will be a clear-cut beginning. 
A start. 
Like: Go.  Yes. That's how it will go.
No antics, no false starts, no saying: 'it has started without anyone noticing', or asking: 'will it ever actually begin?' No, no. That's not how we'll begin.

But for now, you'll need to wait a bit. Until it begins. Of course, you have been going for a while. A year or nine. Or eight. Or twelve. Or seventy-five. Or perhaps you feel as if things haven't quite begun. That you're waiting and waiting. Until it finally arrives. You know. The real beginning. Later when you... will also be bigger... Or perhaps you are longing for a new beginning. A new friend. A new school. A new pencil pouch. Without a past. Without a story.

And sometimes you see grown-ups suddenly give you a strange look. A tear is gleaming in their eye. They ruffle your hair and say: 'Oh, if only I were like you. Everything has yet to begin for you.' But do new beginnings really exist? Is a white sheet as white as we would like it to be? How important is a beginning for all that is yet to come?