She looked down at him as he was seven, holding his play script in his lap and reading over the few lines he had.
"Go on little dreamer."

He looked down at his foot as he was eighteen, holding his play script in his lap that he grabbed yo pass the time by reading the lines for his lead that he had.
"That good?"
"Yes, thank you"
He looked down into his script as the tattoo needle went into his foot. Leaving the words,
"Go on little dreamer."