I was the only one in the band without a music Skill. Eve on guitar, Henry on drums, and our singer Sammie all had Skills to do with their instruments–gifts they’d had since they were born, discovered young, because creative Skills were the first things parents looked for.
For a while, my parents had thought I had one of the weird Skills–not singing, drawing, running, balance, cooking, writing, or any other useful job or hobby, etc.–but a Skill like finding lost keys, or navigating blind. When puberty hit, it became clear I was one of the lucky–or unlucky ones. A Power. We didn’t get our Powers until then, and they were always something special.
I could fly, just shoot myself upward, and it was wonderful. But one day, like every Power, it would fade and be gone. Which was why I was struggling with my base guitar, like I struggled to cook, and do any number of things.
When I was old enough, I could–and would–use my power for whatever job I could, but I had to worry about the future. Once I lost my Power, I would be completely ordinary.
Ordinary, but with some wonderful memories, at least.