XLIII: Ten O'Clock Taunts

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❝An interview is like a minefield.❞
—Michelle Williams

If you don't speak for yourself, someone will do it on your behalf, often with bad intentions. I learned this the hard way. 

February 15, 2059.

I spent my morning watching the news, as much as it sickened me to hear my name being thrown around. Pancakes. Coffee. News.

And after helping Peggy with the dishes, I went straight back to watching the news. Peggy, seeing that Alexander was upstairs having an important call, joins me on the blue couch, our eyes glued to the TV on the wall.

Everything I've heard from news anchors in the past hour spins around in my brain like a confusing mess of gibberish.

"According to our sources, the Hamilton duo are currently residing in New York City."

They're wrong on that. At least they don't know where we are... But they know where we were.

"Footage of an AC award ceremony held on December 23 has been reviewed. We can verify (Y/N) and Alexander Hamilton were indeed honored at the ceremony, confirming they are indeed AC soldiers."

That information on its own can reveal a lot about us.

"Molly Pitcher has agreed to release one more image of the Hamiltons in a week's time or so. It will be uploaded onto her photography website, and later onto her Twitter for the public to make their comments."

Isn't that a dandy little thing? I wonder what this picture of us will reveal. 

Alexander suddenly comes down the stairs. He finds us and saunters to our couch. "What are you two doing."

I motion to the TV. "We're watching things fall apart."

Alexander resists the urge to roll his eyes as he stands behind me, leaning over the couch casually. I focus my attention back to the TV when I hear a familiar name spoken.

"We contacted the AC Trainer of the Hamiltons, General Chul-Mu," the anchor says proudly.

"No way," Peggy scoffs. "They dragged him into this? Why?"

"Anything for insight," Alexander theorizes.

"He has agreed to make a comment on (Y/N) and Alexander Hamilton. Audio playing now."

I listen closely as audio, presumably from a phone call, plays, the transcript on the screen.

"I remember training the Hamiltons. They never left the side of the other. But other than that, they are like every other soldier who graduates. They excelled at some realms of training and faltered at others. They are good soldiers, but nothing extremely special."

Huh.

Alexander scoffs.

Peggy sounds offended. "What?! Nothing special?! Not everyone would do half of the things you two have done! You have bigger balls than anyone I know!"

"I'm just surprised he didn't call us worthless fuck nuggets," I joke. Peggy giggles in response, but Alexander doesn't seem amused. I wonder what's going on in that mind of his.

He sighs and strolls along the length of the couch. "You remember what I told you last night, right, Peggy?"

"Mhmm!"

"Well, he'll be coming soon."

"What?" I interrupt their little exchange. "Who? Why wasn't I told anything?"

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