Being Loyal To Evil Is Easy, Young Man; Revolting Against It Is Harder.

Chapter 1

Alexander Hamilton was proud to say that he was the leader of the Revolutionaries at Yorktown High. The Revolutionaries were smart, funny, and kind. What what more could you ask for in a group?

"Nothing, Alexander," replied John Laurens, who had just slammed his locker. John was Hamilton's best friend; his right hand man if you will.

"That's right, Laurens. And you're those things and more," Alexander said with a wink. Their relationship was very flirtatious. John had always felt something towards Hamilton, only realizing it when he, Alexander, and some friends played Spin the Bottle. Seeing Alexander kiss someone else had made John realize his feelings for him, but Alexander didn't reciprocate. Every time John asked, Alexander would say he had his eye on someone else.

Someone clapped Alexander's back from behind, almost at the same time as someone clapped John's.

"C'est moi!"

"Hello," John started, raising his hand as he did so, offering a high five to Lafayette. "Lafa-yeet," he exclaimed after moving his hand at the last millisecond.

"You'll do this every day until we graduate, won't you," asked another voice coming up from behind.

"Yes, he will, Hercules," Alexander said, rolling his eyes at a still snickering John.

"You are, how you say, so immature, Laurens." John and Alex simultaneously raised their eyebrows.

"That's my name for him-" Alex started, grabbing John's hand firmly.

"-That's his name for me," John finished, grabbing Alexander's other hand just as hard.

"Get a room, mon amis!"

"We will when you and Hercules get one," Alexander stated matter-of-factly. He and John of course ignored that Lafayette muttered that that would be fine and that Hercules shrugged at his words.

"Ooooooh- burn, suckers."

"They're not even dating, Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert de Motier Marquis De Lafayete. Get a grip," Hercules reminded him with a sigh. He, like most, knew of John's non-mutual love for Hamilton.

Just then, the bell rang for when the students were labs in the classrooms. Most ignored the bell, which usually resulted in them being late. However, they were not Alexander.

"I gotta go, my home ec. grade went down and it needs to get the fuck back up again!"

"Gotta get my writing done."

"I have to start my turtle nation!"

"I have to meet my œfe de poule son!"(translation: chicken egg (like how some teachers make you do that parenting thingy with eggs))

The other three stared at Lafayette and laughed for a moment before taking off like the majority of the people around them.

***

"All right class, sit down. Wash isn't here today- SIT DOWN," yelled an unfamiliar yet recognizable voice. Hamiltom looked up to see none other than George Kingsley the Third as acting teacher. Alex held back a chuckle at this, momentarily imagining what class would be like if he wasn't about to shut down this nonsense.

"King'd have us write essays on himself, dumbass," Thomas Jefferson drawled out.

"Did I ask you," Hamilton asked, immediately smacking himself internally for being like the people he complains about. "Nevermind," Alexander said as a response to his previous words. "Sorry for violating your right to Freedom of Speech, Jefferson."

With Jefferson too stunned to say anything, Alexander marches up to the front desk where the "King" resides.

"Up you go, Georgie," Alexander said, dragging King out of chair. The class gasped.

"'Scuse me? What did you just do?"

A smirk slid onto Hamilton's face, a rare sight. "Well, if you're that dull that you don't know what I just did, you definitely should not be in charge of the class today, especially when we have a paper due."

The class looked at the challenger quizzically, almost as if they were suprised about having a paper due.

"C'mon guys! Washington gave us an essay yesterday!"

More confused looks.

A low voice hesitantly called out from the back of the room.

"We did get an essay yesterday, but it's due in two months," Thomas replied in his insanely Southern accent.

"I KNOW," Hamilton practically yelled out. "We already should have started it yesterday!"

"Hamilton, it only needs to be three to five pages long! Besides, it's about relationships; you have so few of them that I'll be surprised if you can finish a paragraph."

Thomas Jefferson, Hamilton thought. A more selfish, arrogant, and downright, idiotically, annoying person one could not find. So what if Alexander had a love of Jefferson, it didn't change that he was selfish, arrogant, and annoying. Annoyingly handsome, that is. Alexander vaguely remembered a few continuous moments with Thomas that he had decided was his favorite.

/flashback/

"Hamilton, why are you at my house? Was watching Netflix..." Thomas cut himself off when he noticed that Alexander was sobbing quietly into his already soaked shirt. Jefferson hadn't realized he was crying before, as soon as he glanced at his enemy he has looked around at his surroundings. Hamilton's car was parked haphazardly in the road, covered in mud from the many mini-rivers in trenches on the side of the road.

"Hamil- Alexander, are you okay? Shit of course you're not. Come in,"  Thomas stated idiotically, ushering the small, soaked teen inside his home.
-
Alexander had slammed on the brakes in front of the first house he's seen, and unbeknownst to him it was his unrequited love/enemy's home.

After running from the driver's seat to the marquee, Alexander banged on the door five noisy times. His sobs were getting more and more uncontrollable, and the face greeting him at the door didn't help.
-
In the end, Jefferson ended up cuddling Hamilton until they both fell asleep. That was when, without Alexander's knowledge, Jefferson had fallen in love with him, and he knew he couldn't imagibe waking up any way that didn't include Alexander in his arms.

/flashback over/

So the class started on their essays.  Laptops were pulled out and Alexander started on his. The first relationship he spoke of was that of his one with his girlfriend, Eliza Schuyler.