broadway kid || an original hamilton cast fan fiction

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

"Broadway Kid, you're back!" Ethan Abbot exclaimed with a grin.

Ethan Abbot, my subway pal and life long best friend.

"Singing and groving. making money. the usual," I joked, shrugging my huge dirt cheap jacket off, revealing my ripped hamilton shirt.

It's a musical about the founding father, i thought it was weird when i first heard of it.

Ethan nodded in approval of my choice in apparel, "Hamilton!! nice. sing something from Hamilton, you know how much i love that musical."

I smiled back at him, wiping my hands on my skirt. No matter how many times I sang on subway, i was sure I would never get over the anticipatory nerves, "I got you, e."

I plugged my speaker into my phone, tapping on my favorite song from the already too popular musical.

A sense of familiarity washed over me as the first note rang out, effectively southing her nerves. Now I reached up, grabbing the bar above my head to help pull me to my feet on the moving train and, smiling to Ethan who was hushing the other passengers.

I cleared throat, "Hey, hey, I'm Broadway kid," my regular introduction rolled off my tongue in a comfortable but memorized way.

I finally took a deep breath, "Today, I'll be preforming this song called satisfied, by Lin Manuel Miranda, from the Broadway musical Hamilton."

The Puerto Rican man sitting a ways down the aisle took his headphones out, interested.

I let the music take over my body, and I opened my mouth to sing my heart out.

"I remember that night, I just might regret that night for the rest of my days.

I remember those soldier boys tripping over themselves to win our praise.

I remember that dreamlike candlelight like a dream that you can't quite place,

but alexander, I'll never forget the first time I saw your face.

I have never been the same, intelligent eyes in a hunger-pang frame,

and when you said "hi," I forgot my dang name, set my heart aflame, ev'ry part aflame."

I stepped deftly off the grimy subway seat, maintaining my balance even on the moving train. I held out a hat for tips, grinning in excitement as a faster than usual flow of dollar bills came flooding in.

Ethan stood, placing a hand on my shoulder, winking at my smiling face as he took up the other part of the song, "this is not a game."

The Puerto Rican man stood up. My eyes flickered in his direction, expecting another donor and froze.  The man in question was Lin Manuel Miranda.

writer, lyricist, and star of Hamilton.

"You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied," Lin called out, pulling me out of her stupor, causing me to blush at this sudden important audience.

This is the Lin Manuel Miranda, my idol, and he is singing with me. I can't breathe.

"I'm sure I don't no what you mean, you forget your self." I tried to sing through the nerves of my idol in front of me. I could feel Ethan shifting behind me, but didn't dare turn, focusing on the duet at hand.

"You're like me, I'm never satisfied."

"Is that right."

"I've never been satisfied"

"My name is Angelica Schuyler." At this point, my confidence was growing with the lack of judgement from the writer of the song. I could feel that this was the most important performance of my life. it seemed as if my voice had not gotten the memo.