The Press (Whamilton)

Ch. 35

"Deep breath Alex... Deep breaths... The world is not going to best you today. You're a strong, independent, intelligent person. The world is judgmental, childish, and annoying at most. You best them in anything and everything. All you need to do is go in there, say what you need to say, let them talk, counter it, and then the freedom is all yours. You can do this. You can do this. You. Can. Do. This. Hamilton."

Alex stood up straight and grabbed a towel, wiping the sink water from his face. He was dressed in a navy blue suit and purple tie. Outside the white house bathroom, George Washington was waiting for Hamilton to come out. Then, outside the actual white house was an entire crowd of reporters, journalists, cameras, and bystanders. A sea of judgement, crashing against the sides of Hamilton's S.S. Confidence, ready to bring him down at any moment to drown him.

But Alexander knew that as long as he stood by the president's side, everything would be okay in the end.

He finally stepped out of the bathroom and smiled at George. The president was wearing a black suit with an american flag tie.

"Everything alright?" George whispered, taking Alexander's hand. Every time Washington held his hand it made Alex feel like some flustered school boy. He nodded quickly.

Alex said, "So far, everything's fine... How much time until the speech?"

George checked his watch. "Two minutes." He replied, looking around. He suggested, "We should start heading outside. Wouldn't want to keep them waiting, they might think we're having extreme gay sex."

With a roll of his eyes Alex walked ahead of George and down the hall of the white house. He teased, "I'm not entirely opposed to that at this point. Get our point of the speech across rather quickly, don't you think so?" George came up behind Hamilton and wrapped his arms around his waist, stopping him in his tracks.

George said, "We can focus on that later, gorgeous. For now, we have to tell the united states of america that we're resigning responsibility and gay."

They walked to the front of the white house, letting go of each other's hands before they came into view of the windows. Alex whispered, "Promise me... Promise me that if this goes downhill you'll still protect me."

Washington looked at Alex. The man looked a little pale, but still better than he had been doing a week after the coma. His hair was more full, his eyes as bright as the stars, and Alex had started working out on weekends. George said, "I promise that I will protect you no matter how things go for the rest of our lives. Okay?" Alex nodded, satisfied with the answer.

Right when they stepped outside there was yelling, camera flashes, and the bright sun shining on them. Alex fixed his posture, smiled at the crowd, and headed to the podium with George. They both stood at the podium, looking out over the crashing sea. Somebody was waving a pride flag. Alexander couldn't help but smile a little.

Washington cleared his throat and waited for the crowd to die down enough for him to talk. They didn't fully shut up, but they were quiet enough to hear the microphone over the speakers.

George took a deep breath and began, "Good afternoon, America. It is truly wonderful to be speaking to you all on this fine Spring day. Please forgive me for being silent these past few months. I'm sure you have all seen different theories, news articles, and photographs online about my whereabouts, as well as Mr. Hamilton's. Everything is going to be explained shortly."

Can the crowd see me sweating from the TV cameras? He glanced nervously at the reporters and flashing lights of photographs. Can the crowd see my fears? My anger? My pain? George continued his little introduction. Alex could always tell when Washington was stalling for time because he didn't want to talk. He gave him a little nudge on his ankle with his foot.