Helpless (Lin-Manuel Miranda x Reader)

The Journey To D.C.

"Really, Lin? That's amazing!"

After the whole you-or-Vanessa debacle, you hadn't really felt like talking to Lin. But to be honest, what he did was to be expected. He chose his girlfriend over a friend. Any other person would do that. But it had still hurt.

Later that day, Lin had texted you and apologized for what happened. He said that he really hadn't wanted to choose between you and Vanessa, but he didn't want to lose her. You said that you understood, and continued to talk like nothing happened after that.

And now, a week later, Lin called you to tell that the president had asked him to perform a song from In The Heights at the White House, but he had asked to do his song about Alexander Hamilton instead.

"Do you think that's dumb?", he asks nervously.

"No, that's really cool. Everyone knows about In The Heights, and people need to know about Hamilton. I'm so excited for you!"

"Thanks Y/N. Y'know, I'm sure I could get you down there."

"Really?", you ask excitedly.

"Yeah, totally. I'll ask Mr. President and let you know."

"Would you really? That would be amazing. Thank you."

"Of course."

You smile, even though he can't see you. "So, when is it?"

"May 12th."

"Are you ready?"

"I think so."

"I believe in you!"

You hear him chuckle softly. "Thanks, Y/N."

"No problem. I'll be your cheerleader there! I'll get everyone to cheer for you. Whoo, Lin!," you whisper-shout, mimicking a crowd.

"Awesome, thanks," he says, and you both laugh.

There's another you loved about Lin: he accepted your weirdness. He thought it was funny, and he always smiled when you said strange things. Who else was like that?

"Well, I need to go. I'll see you later," he says, snapping you out of your thoughts.

"Okay. 'Bye."

"'Bye!"

You hang up, then sit down on your small couch. You were so excited for Lin. He was getting a chance to show the world how amazing he and his song was! And you got to be there!

Smiling, you turned on your TV.

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Vanessa wanted to come, and the president only gave me one plus-one. I'm sorry.

You sigh. You half expected that to happen. But your dumb hope made you think that maybe, just maybe, you would get to go.

It's okay. She's your girlfriend. It makes sense that she would want to be there.

Lin doesn't reply, and you know that he was thinking. He always responded as quick as he could, unless the gears in his incredible mind were turning.

You begin to read your copy of Ron Chernow's Alexander Hamilton biography. You were helping Lin write actually quite a few of the songs, and you wanted to be sure that it was as accurate as possible. And that you knew as much as Lin did.

Suddenly, you hear your phone buzz, and you look down to see a message from Lin.

I emailed the president to see if I could bring another person. I want you to come, and you deserve to. You helped me write the song.