Wish Upon A Satellite | Jamilton

Chapter 1 (Thomas's Pov)

I wake up to the blaring sound of my phone and I groggily turn it off. College is soo great, getting freedom and stuff. I get up, putting on a pair of clothes, and head to the kitchen. My dorm mate never came, so I have this dorm to myself. I place two pieces of bread in the toaster as I cook some eggs. It's nice, but it can get lonely. A relationship would be nice.

The toast popped up from the toaster, signaling it was done. Oh great, it's burnt. I sigh as I place the burnt toast on the plate, right next to the warm and seasoned eggs. I start to eat, still thinking about having a relationship. Who to have the relationship with though? Jemmy and I are just friends. Dammit. Hamilton isn't single. He seems miserable though. I miss his singing. I sigh again, looking at the now empty plate. I hope he's doing okay.

I put the plate in the sink and put on my shoes. What if Hamilton was unhappy because he's in an unwanted relationship with John? I scoff. Nah, they're lovebirds. Why do I care anyway? We're rivals. It's like I'm in a book and the author wants me to think this way, which is unlikely, but an option if you're crazy. I head out, walking to my first class, debate. I was a little late, just stepping in right before the bell rings.

     "Mister Jefferson." An intense voice called. "Try to get here a little earlier." I turn to see Mr. Washington, glaring at me, which sends shivers down my spine. I furiously nod, earning a couple of giggles from the group of students. I sat down next to the disheveled Hamilton, who was jotting down something down in a notebook. His writing was quite careless but still looked elegant in a way. He should be a journalist or something like that, not a lawyer. Or he can do both, we are talking about Hamilton goddammit. The man who writes like he's running out of time.

     He wasn't acting like himself for the past months. Ever since he was in a relationship with John, he seemed sadder. He covered himself more and ended our usual name-calling and debates. He'd apologize more often, cautious about what he does. This isn't the Hamilton I know. The Hamilton I know talks nonstop, passionately arguing about a subject. His eyes would shine with devotion and wrath. Sure he was small, but he was mighty. He'd easily scare off some people from his arguments alone. I wonder how he is in bed...

     The bell rings. Oh god, did I really think of Hamilton for an hour!? It could be worse, I could think about him for the whole day...

•~•~•~•

Oh god. It's been a day. I've been thinking about Hamilton for a day. That's just tremendous. I lay on my couch, scrolling through my contacts for Hamilton's number. I know I have it, we've worked on multiple projects with each other so many times, it's stupid. I found Hamilton's contact and I text him.

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Hamilshit
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Jeffershit: what's up Hamilton?

Hamilshit: please don't text me, I don't want you to get hurt as well

Jeffershit: !?

Jeffershit: wdym hurt!?

Jeffershit: Hello? You are ok!?

Hamilshit: just don't text me and we'll both be fine. Don't worry I'm fine
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What the fuck!? 'Don't text me and we'll both be fine'? "No! You are not god damn fine!" I screeched at the phone. I have to make sure he is fine. He's like my favorite character in a book, I have to protect it. No matter the cost.