Ever since I was young, I’ve been obsessed with Broadway musicals. While my sister was rocking out to the latest boy band, I was belting out showtunes in my bedroom. And I knew them all: I languished over Les Miserables, playing Eponine and her unrequited love. I was Christine, both fearful of the Phantom and hypnotized by his music. I hopped and skipped around the furniture to Cats, rode the horses in Carousel, and allowed myself to be eaten by the greed of Audrey 2 in Little Shop of Horrors. It’s safe to say I was a dramatic teenager.
Hamilton
