Radio Friendly Pop Song --jamilton--

1.

The bass was thumping so loud that Thomas could feel it in his chest. His heart was pounding with every beat and he tried to time his blinks with the lights that changed color every second. He held his drink above his head as he slid through the crowd of various celebrities. He didn't even really know many of them, maybe one or two in the room, and a handful of the entire party. He wasn't sure if the host of the party even knew half the people that showed up.

Thomas wasn't even sure he knew the host.

Still, though, he was there and planned to have a good time. So Thomas went into the kitchen to get himself another drink. Getting completely shitfaced and bringing someone home for the night was nothing new for him, so he wasn't entirely worried. So long as the tabloids don't think I'm thinking of settling down with anyone. Dear, God, no.

Thomas was in the middle of pouring another drink when someone threw their arm around his shoulder.

"Thomas," the man shouted, slurring every letter together until his name sounded more like "hummus".

Thomas tried scraping through his mind to find his apparent friend's name, but nothing came up, so he just said, "Hey." Casual, but not rude.

"Man, thanks for coming," he said, obviously drunk enough to be sentimental. He only confirmed that Thomas didn't know the host, at least not very well.

"Any time," Jefferson promised with a shrug.

The host didn't stay much longer after that. He'd apparently found someone else to bother. Thomas rolled his eyes and continued with his drink. Was he concerned with how fake he was being? Not in the slightest. Welcome to Knowing Celebrities, everyone's fake. Don't assume that people are who they claim to be unless you're drunk enough to believe them.

Thomas scanned the crowd, looking for someone interesting to pull in. No woman caught his eye, but leaning against the wall in just the other room was a good looking man. It was riskier than women when it came to the paparazzi, but that added to the fun for Jefferson. He took another sip of his drink to gain some confidence, set it down, and began weaving through the crowd of people to get to the other man.

By the time Thomas got to him, Jefferson was covered in at least three different colognes from the men that decided to take a bath in the most generic sprays. Apparently, the man knew he was coming because when Thomas finally got to him, he smiled mischievously.

"Make your way over here okay?" He shouted above the beat of the music. None of his words slurred and he said them perfectly, almost like the drink in his hand was only for show.

"More or less," Thomas laughed back. "Anyway, what's a guy like you doing here? Doesn't really seem like your scene."

"And what, pray tell, would my scene be?"

Jefferson ran it over in my head quickly, looking the other man up and down to figure what that scene really was. Thing is, he couldn't figure it out. No matter what came to his mind, nothing seemed to fit his conversational partner. That, and it was hard to think when the beat was making his head throb.

"Dunno," Jefferson admitted simply.

"Exactly." The man held his hand out, switching his drink to his other hand. "Alexander."

He took Alexander's hand and introduced himself, to which Alexander laughed.

"I know who you are, dumbass," he scoffed. Thomas couldn't tell if Alexander was being playful or condescending. "Thomas Jefferson, singer, songwriter, actor, though I have to admit, you aren't the greatest at the last one."

Honest and to the point. Thomas didn't really agree with him on the last point, at all really, but he wasn't about to argue it too hard—

"Tell that to my roles," he retorted without hesitation. If he was sober, maybe he wouldn't have argued it, but he was wrong! Thomas can't just let people be wrong apparently.

Alexander smirked as if he could play Jefferson like putty in his hands and Thomas felt every bit of sense leave his body. He wanted to take Alexander away from the party and, from the way he was looking at Thomas, he was pretty sure Alexander wanted to get out of there. So Thomas asked him if they could ditch the too-loud, too-crowded, too-showy house. Alexander kept the smirk on his face and Jefferson swore he couldn't look away if he tried.

Jefferson wondered if he knew what effect he could have on people, and Jefferson wondered if he knew how to use it to get what he wanted. If he did, he'd make an amazing celebrity.

"Why don't we get out of here?" Alexander shouted, finally pulling Thomas halfway away from his eyes. "You can take me back to your place."

And just like that, Jefferson was roped in and they were navigating their way out and away from the thumping bass.

//a.n
bonjour bitches!

most of the editing here was me changing the pov and mixing up there/they're/and there-

but anyway! celebrity au! sorry for the absence life is,, wild,, and it's probs not changing anytime soon so! plus i've been working on this off and on for abt a year now and i figured nows as good a time as any to upload it 🤷🏽‍♂️

i'll try to have a stable update schedule and i already have a few parts pre-written but like. if it falls apart after a month i am Sorry