Corset in Congress (A Hamilton Genderbend)

Chapter Eleven: Satisfied

Angelica's POV

We're all standing around, laughing, drinking wine and talking, when John Laurens, the best man, stands up. He's about to announce my speech. My stomach churns, but I smile all the same, stifling any sour expression.

"Alright, alright!" he calls, his voice almost too carefree. "That's what I'm talking about! Now everyone give it up for the maid of honour, Angelica Schuyler!" He steps back, and I see the forced smile on his face. Poor John. I can relate.

I start simple. "A toast to the groom!" I say clearly, raising my glass high, and giving my brother a nod. Everyone copies, and repeats my words back.

"To the bride!" I say, turning to Alexandra, making eye contact for longer than normal. Again the people in the room echo me, and I press forward in my speech.

"From your sister," I say, tears threatening to break from my eyes, "who is always by your side!"

"To your union!"

The echo changes this time, with all the soldiers present by Alexandra's invitation shout, "To the Union! To the Revolution!"

My voice doesn't betray me as I continue. "And the hope that you provide! May you always," I say, looking Alexandra dead in the eye, "be satisfied!"

Rewind... Rewind...
Helpless... Sky's... Sky's...
Drownin' in 'em...
Drownin' in 'em...

I remember that night, I just might (rewind)
I remember that night, I just might (rewind)
I remember that night, I remember that--

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 you can't quite place, but Alexandra, I'll never forget the first time I saw your face.

I have never been the same. Intelligent eyes in a hunger-pang frame. I remember how worried I was about you, if the war was too hard on you. And when you said, "Hi," I forgot my dang name, set my heart aflame, every part aflame, this is not a game!

You came up to me on the edge of the dance floor, started up a conversation with me. You leaned in and looked at me with those soulful eyes and said, "You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied."

Now, I didn't know what to say to that. I was dumbfounded, but also impressed. I gathered my composure and shot back an icy, "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, you forget yourself."

And then you gave a look that said, You know exactly what I mean, you're just running from the truth. "You're like me," you said, matter-of-factly. "I'm never satisfied."

"Is that right?" raising my eyebrows, I asked. It seemed like a stretch for someone like her, with such big goals and high expectations, to feel like she hadn't done enough.

"I have never been satisfied," you tell me, and I was struck by your honesty. I'd never met someone so willing to admit that much about themselves with someone they don't know all that well. It was refreshing.

Finally coming to my senses, I said to you, "My name is Angelica Schuyler."

"Alexandra Hamilton."

Next step, the small talk. "Where's your family from?" I ask, starting to grill her for information.

Deflecting the question like a pro, she waves a hand. "Unimportant, there's a million things I haven't done, but just you wait. Just you wait."

So this is what it's like to match wits with someone at your level... finally! What the hell is the catch? It's the feeling of freedom, of seeing the light! It's Ben Franklin with a key and a kite! You see it, right?