Becoming a Founding "Father"- Historical Hamilton

Chapter Three: Elizabethtown

Alexander Hamilton. Oh god, he's Alexander Hamilton. Where do I start?

The hallway seems so much more quiet without the constant quill scratching. I pace back and forth, trying to wrap my head around the sudden realisation.

Maybe he just has the same name..? Hamilton is important in American history, after all, a musical was built on his life, and the Alex I know is not- well- rich. The only way you could make an influence in those times was if you had money. The kid can't even speak English properly, how could he be Hamilton?

And their personality didn't match at all- the Hamilton portrayed in the musical is a short-tempered loudmouth, and Alexander is... well, Alexander.

But there's a voice in my head saying that I'm wrong, that Alexander Hamilton definitely is Alexander Hamilton.

Well, at least I know where I am now. I stop pacing and I slide down a wall, putting my face in my hands. "Po velnių," I curse weakly, knowing how limited my knowledge in American history is. How does it go again-?

Washington's the president, the Queen doesn't like that, then she taxes them, some kind of tea party, war, war, war, and then the Americans beat up Britain..? And then what? And where does Hamilton fit in to all of this?

Then I remember that Queen Elizabeth II wasn't alive when America pulled whatever stunt they pulled to be free. I'm hopeless.

I sigh, suddenly feeling really tired. Where do I go from here? My original plan was to follow Alexander, but I don't know if I can do that now. What if I change history, god knows what will happen.

Or maybe history won't change at all, and this is just some kind of virtual reality. That's probably it, and I'm worrying for no reason. Maybe nothing is real, it's just made to look like it is. After all, what are the chances of me meeting someone important in the real world? And the way Alexander acts? It doesn't seem natural.

I breathe in. It'll be fine, I'm sure. I'll figure out some way to leave this place and go back home.

I stand up and walk back to our room, realizing that I've been out for longer than I thought. Entering the room, I see a timid flame lighting up the otherwise dark room. Alexander's in bed, in his nightclothes, his back turned against me.

Unlike the past few nights, I lay down on the floor. I need some space away from him and the bed is too small for that. My coat is an enough blanket for me.

Tomorrow's a new day. And from then, I'll do what it takes to get back to my reality, and out of this false world. And if befriending and following Alexander is what it takes, then I'll do it, no matter how strange his behaviors get. I close my eyes with a new hope for the future.

In that moment, Alexander's hushed cries for his mother almost seemed real.

---

A few weeks came and went, quicker than ever. Alexander is more talkative now, stumbling to learn new sentences and phrases, and I start to see the slight resemblance between him and Hamilton. I was shocked on how riled up he could get over punctuation.

Anyway, Peter had given us various documents to work on, and, while I don't understand a thing, Alexander is thriving.

"What do you think about this?" He asks passively, handing me a document. I put down my pen carefully, knowing what messes happen when I'm not careful, and I read it. It's full of long and complicated words, but I'm getting better at understanding them.

"It's very..." I start, trying to find the words. "...vague. What are they trying to tell us?"

 "Hmm." Alexander hums, giving me the side-eye. "I'd say a request they've made is... rude."