Limitless: The Second Edition

Hannah

After a week of work on the music, Ms. Dawson tells us we're going to work on our songs in pairs or individually. Oliver and I are beyond excited. So is Sadie. So is the ensemble and other actors playing characters like Tanu, the king in the story, and Kanji, Layeba's old friend and the man who serves as a grandfatherly figure to Enso and Sholta. David, on the other hand, is looking extremely uncomfortable. I have a feeling he's not looking forward to the first song, "Greater Than Me," which is literally three minutes of his character Anjan insulting Oliver's character, backed by an ensemble chorus of villagers.

"Can I rehearse alone?" David requests. "The first song is the ensemble and me, but I really don't want to sing a song insulting Oliver in front of others."

I was right. I can't help but feel sorry for him, yet admire him. He is so concerned about having his gentle personality in real life corrupted by the tyrannical personality of his character.

"Bro, if you get used to singing that song alone, there's no way you're going to be able to do it in front of an audience on opening night," Oliver tells him, stating the obvious. "But I'm sure we can arrange things so you don't have to rehearse in the same room as me."

"That's right," Ms. Dawson answers. "But at some point, you're going to have to sing in front of Oliver. David, you go with Taryn, Isabella, Nick, and Keith into my classroom and practice 'Greater than Me'. Sadie, go with Felecia and Elle and rehearse 'New Horizons' in the cafeteria. Everyone else except for Oliver and Hannah, go into the chorus room and we'll rehearse the 'Winner' dance number. As for you, Oliver and Hannah, I want you to go in the band room and work on 'I'm Not Broken.'"

Oliver and I turn to head towards the band room.

"Wait!" Ms. Dawson calls after us. "Do either of you know where the aux cord is in there?"

I give her a thumbs up. "I know exactly where it is," I reply. I don't play any instruments, but I had an internship with the band director last year and know where everything is in his room.

Once we've arrived in the band room, Oliver turns on the lights while I hook up my phone to the speaker. I scroll through my playlist until I find the song we're supposed to be rehearsing.

"You ready?" I ask.

Oliver leans on his crutches and flashes me that absolutely irresistible smile. "I was born ready. Turn on the song already!"

I hit play and run over to join him at the front of the band room. Oliver starts off with his solo, and I try my best not to get lost in his dreamy voice. Then it's my turn. I make sure to project my voice, strong and clear. I see Oliver's eyes sparkle as he watches me. Stay focused, I remind myself. When we get to the instrumental voice, my body naturally begins moving as my brain remembers Sholta's choreography from this part of the song. I've streamed the show enough times to have her dance moves memorized. Sholta's choreography was always my favorite out of the whole show. Oliver watches, awestruck. Then, with a final spin, I rejoin him, and we sing our respective parts of the final repetitions of the chorus.

When the song ends, I race over to hit rewind before the next song comes on.

"Pause it," Oliver tells me. I oblige, then turn around to face him again. "I can't believe you're that good," he continues. "You're amazing. I can't do any of that."

"Nonsense," I correct him. "You sure can sing. And I bet you can dance a little. Show me what you've got."

Oliver hesitates, but then demonstrates a few unsteady dance moves. However, every time he attempts to put more than a little weight on his right leg, he stumbles, gripping on to his crutches desperately for balance.

"I'm sorry, Hannah," he mutters. "No matter how good your dance moves are, my crippled ones are going to ruin the scene for you."

I can't help it. I throw my arms around him. "I don't ever want to hear you say that ever again," I whisper in his year. "I can't stand to hear you put yourself down like that. When I hang out with you in rehearsal, I feel like I'm friends with Enso himself. Derek would be so proud of you. You are the best person in this entire school to play Enso. So I don't want to hear you say that again, okay?" I refuse to feel sorry for him, because that's not what he needs. He needs encouragement and love.

Oliver nods, wiping at his eyes. "Let's do the song again," he says.

I go back to my phone to hit play before returning to Oliver's side. We allow the music to run through our veins like our lifeblood. Our voices fill the room and surround us. It feels like we're the only two people in the world. About thirty seconds before the instrumental, Oliver heads over to a nearby tom drum and begins drumming a rhythm while I dance. The drumbeats resonate in the air, and I become lost in the music and the dance moves. We're so engrossed in our over-the-top rehearsal performance that we don't notice the band room door opening.

"Look at you, all grown up," a woman's voice says. "My little superstar."

As the closing notes of the song drift from my phone, I glance toward the door to see who has entered. A tall slender woman with dark hair pulled up into a ponytail and freckles sprinkled across her round face stands a few feet inside the room, smiling at me. For a moment, I stand there, confused. Then I see the twinkle in her eye, and a long buried memory resurrects itself from inside my brain. I distantly remember someone calling me their "little superstar" before. Someone whose appearance in my memories and photo albums is not too far off from this woman's appearance. Suddenly the realization hits me.

And I run to the woman and enfold her in a hug, tears streaming down my face.