You Know My Name, Not My Story

Something Old VII: A Stranger In Town

Philip's POV
(you did not except that did ya!1!1)

Alice walked away leaving me alone.

I felt useless, worthless and meaningless.
I hated myself for being that way.

First, I have problems with my girlfriend's brother and now I got her have problems with her own brother.

Wow, how good boyfriend am I. A bad one.
Maybe she didn't consider me as one anymore.

My stomach and chest was still hurt from the punches I got from Edmund but it didn't hurt as much as they way my heart got broken. And it was MY fault. My fault.

Now, all I could do is to listen to Alice and go home.
* * *
I've thrown away myself to my bed and bursted down crying. I didn't know why I acted like that—wait, I exactly knew why. To defend myself. I mean, no matter how I know Alice hates seeing me violent, no matter how I see myself violent, I couldn't let a piece of shit attack me.

I didn't even know how I felt anymore, honestly. I was very tired of all the things going on and I good nap wouldn't make things any worse.

I woke up at the middle of the night crying, I got a nightmare. It never happens unless something bad, really bad, happened that day or that period.

As I was crying I realised how much of a cry baby I was. I couldn't control my sensitivity sometimes. Alice never knew about that. She never sees me cry. I think it's better for her though. I'm not as good looking with puffy and red eyes.

I couldn't sleep so I went to my desk, lightened up a candle and started to write a poem.

I thought about Alice while I was writing it. I thought I could give her after I finish it but, right, she was mad at me. She probably hated me. Maybe she even broke up with me but I was too dumb to realise it. 'Maybe she never loved you, she just has pity and didn't wanted to break your heart.' I thought.

I cried again until I fall asleep on my desk. I'm still surprised I didn't burn down the whole house by forgetting to turn off the candle.
* * *
A few days passed and I kept on avoiding any topics that could end up about Alice.

My dearest little sister, Angelica who LOVED Alice kept on asking me why I didn't meet with her. I always came up with a lie. I'm not sure she believed me but she left me alone.

I was wondering how things were going with Alice. I mean, she had to be in the same roof as the guy who punched her boyfriend.

'Why am I so dumb? Edmund is Alice's brother,  how bad can it be for her to be in the same roof as him? It's not like she cared more about me anyways.' I thought.

Edmund is her brother and there is no way she chooses me over him, after all he grew up with her and he took care of her for those damn 16 years. I was just a distraction, probably. Definitely.

I didn't why I was no negative about everything. I might have been in a fight with my girlfriend but—girlfriend. I thought of it again. 'Do I even deserve to have a girlfriend after all?'. Why was I so negative?!
* * *
One day, I finally got out of the house, it was early in the morning, no one was up already so I went in town and walked in the almost empty streets. I bought freshly baked bread and some peach jam for my family. Alice's favourite.

I went to the nearest pub and got myself a bottle of beer and went outside. I walked down the park all alone. The sun was barley coming out that day.

I sat down on the grass, cut a piece of the bread I bought, put some jam on it and ate it. I took a sip from my bottle of beer. It was an exceptional combination to be completely honest, sweet with bitter alcohol.

I laid down the grass and closed my eyes until somebody came next to me.

"Hey, would you mind if I sit down?" asked a quiet voice.

I looked at the person. It was a girl. Probably a year younger than I was. She had golden curls and bluebell eyes. Her cheeks were quite rosy and she had a small amount of freckles on her nose. She was wearing a pink dress. I didn't know her but she seemed very nice.

I looked at her for a couple of seconds, it was a bit awkward.

"Of course not, please." I replied still a bit confused.

The girl sat down, smiling, and realised I was confused.

"My name is Daisy, Daisy Thompson." she said as she leaned towards me for a handshake.

"I'm Philip, pleased to meet you." I said and shake her hand. Her hands were somehow, very soft.

"I'm sorry I just came up to you, I hope I am not disturbing you." she said and looked at what I was doing, yeah, eating and drinking, alone in the park, at dawn. Goddamnit, Im so weird.

"Don't worry, I was doing anything important anyway." I said assuring her.

'You were thinking about Alice, you idiot, how is that not important?' I asked myself.

"I am new in town, I just moved in New York from Virginia, I don't really know anyone here." she said as she put her hair behind her ear.

"Welcome in New York, it's only the best city ever!" I said proudly.

"Yeah, sure, I doubt so." she said sarcastically.

"So, what brought you here?" I asked.

"My mother is going to work as maid here, we are having a bit of a financial problem. My father is also working in Virginia. I came here with my mother and my little sister. My father is with my older brother." she said calmly.

"Wow, so that's a story!" I sighed.

She looked at me and giggled.

"I assume that you live in New York." she said.

"Indeed. I was born and raised here." I said.

We both started at each other and smiled. I offered her some bread and jam. We ended up eating the half of it.

"So, Philip, what are you doing so early alone in a park, drinking beer?" she asked curiously.

She just described me and damn, I have pity on myself. How pathetic do I look?

"Just letting out some feelings, you know." I said quietly.

"Right." she said but I don't think she really understood. I wasn't going to explain anyways.

I took a deep breath and sighed.

"Isn't your family worried that you're out doing this?" she asked.

I mean she had a point, I was still not 18, legally speaking, I was underage to drink alcohol. However, it seemed like the barista who sold my bottle didn't care.

"I think my parents might be mad if they learn that I drank—I mean my father is probably too busy writing whatever a Secretary of Treasury writes." I mumbled.

"Wait a minute—your father is the Secretary of Treasury?" she asked with her eyes wide open.

"So you are Philip...Hamilton?" she asked quietly.

"Right in front of you!" I replied.

"Wow, I'm sorry I bothered you, I can leave if you want." she said in panic.

"Why would I want you to leave?" I asked.