Steps to Writing a Musical || Lin-Manuel Miranda

Step Three: Solidify the Character Relationships

"Lin, how many times do I have to tell you to not come to my job unannounced?" You chuckled as he sheepishly stepped through the door frame.

"It's important this time!"

"That's what you said last week."

It'd been a few months since you and Lin started collaborating for this musical. You'd met some of his other theatre friends, Tommy, Alex, and a few others. They all seemed excited, including Lin, but you could definitely tell Lin was being worn out.

He rarely slept, sometimes calling you at three in the morning to clarify a historical point. He was always writing and composing, and when he wasn't, he was kicking himself for not doing so. You weren't sure if he ate regularly. And, although you weren't sure if it was intended, his hair was getting a bit long.

"Lin, when was the last time you ate?"

"This morning."

"Oh." You said. "That's actually-"

"I think it was one."

"Its two o'clock in the afternoon."

"I will eat, Y/N, I swear. But I have a question." He sat backwards in a student's chair, leaning towards you intently. You crossed your arms as you saw his leg bouncing up at down. You could tell it must be important to the plot. He wouldn't be so jumpy otherwise.

"I'll only answer it if we go to the diner this evening so you can eat and take a break."

"I don't take breaks, Y/N. That's like my signature thing-"

"Do you want an answer?"

He sighed and, knowing that you were just as stubborn as he was, nodded in agreement. "Okay fine."

"You know I only pester you because I care more about your health than this project." You stated, retrieving another pile of papers to grade. You plopped them on your desk and sighed as Lin nodded.

"I know." He answered. "I just, I can feel Hamilton breathing down my neck. He wants his story told, ya know?"

"And you can't get it done if you can't think straight." You told him.

He nodded towards the stack of papers, "Need help?"

You looked at him, surprised. "What? With grading?"

"No, Sherlock, with washing your car." He replied sarcastically. You scoffed, a laugh following after, and you handed him a paper.

You knew that Lin couldn't tell Mesopotamian Era from the Industrial Revolution as you spoke while he looked over the paper, "Okay, Mr. Sassy, grade it then."

After a few minutes of him making faces and muttering (How do you even say that? That can't be a word.), he gave up. "Look, I just know about the American Revolution. You're asking too much."

"I didn't ask!" You laughed.

"Can I ask my question now?"

"I'm gonna repeat that I didn't ask anything, but go ahead."

"So, there's this letter that Alexander wrote to Angelica." He explained. "The comma letter I told you about?"

You recalled him texting you, ranting about this comma that Alexander 'misplaced'. The English teacher in him just poured out of him at four in the morning. "I remember the sleep I lost over it."

"But the comma, Y/N!"

"Honestly, if Alexander really felt that way, he would've just told her." You shrugged. "You've read his letters to Eliza. To Laurens! His letters to Laurens are literally censored."