Steps to Writing a Musical || Lin-Manuel Miranda

Step Eight: Pull Emotion From Real-Life Experiences

You've always hated hospitals. You hated the white walls. You hated the fluorescent lighting. You hated how the scent of sick and dying people wafted through every hall. The nurses, the doctors, the medicine, the surgeries, the blood. You hated every bit of it.

So, having to spend hours in one was torture.

You were sat in the waiting room by yourself. Your father was with your mother in her hospital room, making sure that she was being treated by only the best. Your brother was currently on a plane back into the city from some internship. You couldn't be bothered to remember where.

All you knew in that very moment is that you had never felt more alone.

You weren't even sure why you were there. Your mother was never the affectionate type; at least, not towards you. You didn't remember the last time she said she loved you. To be quite honest, you didn't even know how you felt about her. You wanted to love her, but she made it so hard. What you did know was that, regardless of how you felt, you were still her daughter, so you wanted to be there.

"I got you some coffee."

You looked up at Lin, a styrofoam cup in his hands. He offered it to you with a somber look. "I don't like coffee. You know that."

"I also know that you've been up since at least three in the morning." He said, sitting down next to you. "Drink it."

You rolled your eyes and took the coffee. As the warmth spread through the palms of your hands, you watched Lin take a gulp of his coffee. You told him to leave hours ago, practically as soon as you got to the hospital.

He had to chase you halfway down the block after you left his place, convincing you to let him take you to the hospital. When he pulled up to the emergency room, you quietly said thanks and that he should leave.

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'?"

"I'm staying with you."

"Lin, I don't feel like talking about—"

"Then don't. But I know you, whether you like it or not, and you need someone with you." He had told you. "So you go find your mom. I'm gonna park the car."

You both sat in silence for hours. For the first time in a long time, you had nothing to say to him. You had said all you had to say back at his place. You were hurt, and you had no idea how you were supposed to recover from that. So, you focused on the stress that the hospital was causing you.

Lin, on the other hand, had a million things to say. He wanted to tell you that he loved you too, that he was so sorry for any and every time he hurt you, that Veronica meant nothing to him. He knew, though, that it wasn't the time nor the place. You didn't need any more to worry about. He just wanted to be there for you.

When you noticed that Lin's cup was empty, you offered him yours, not bothering to look at him. "Y/N—"

"Drink the fucking coffee, Lin."

He jumped slightly at your tone and quickly took the cup from your hand, knowing that you would soon snap. He couldn't blame you. After everything between the both of you, then your mother (and all the confusing feelings that go with that), and the emergency hospital call. You were bound to crack any minute, and Lin would not be the cause of that.

A doctor finally came into the waiting room and called your last name, causing you to quickly stand up. Lin followed behind you as you asked the doctor a million questions. "How is she? Will she be okay? What happened?"

"Your mother is stable right now. Your father is with her. Unfortunately, she suffered a stroke and," The doctor paused, taking a deep breath as he saw tears fill your eyes, "She's paralyzed. From the waist down."