Zero Two Three One | John Laurens X Reader [Hamilton]

LII: Four Celebrities on Two Separate Dates

❝The best secrets are the most twisted.❞
—Sara Shepard

Things went as they were supposed to. 

We stayed in Britain for a while. President Eaton hosted a press conference, accompanied by Washington, to tell the American people what happened. The media went wild for a long time, slamming Washington and Eaton for making such choices. Communist cucks in San Francisco took this as their chance to stage marches on the streets. Mine and Alexander's names frequently lay on the lips of reporters.

Then it slowly faded to cover another story the people cared about: a group of Russian hackers in Chicago arrested by the CPD, currently undergoing strict investigation.

This new scandal allowed us to return home, and by May 10, Alexander and I were back in New York.

It's been quite some time since we left France. It's still up in flames, getting fucked in the ass by its own people. Refugees are leaving France and heading to Britain in the masses, and Britain's Prime Minister has spoken about ceasing the intake of refugees over rumours that Red Vests were slipping in.

Sinisterly enough, shortly upon returning home, I received a message from Nikolai saying nothing other than "good job." I try not to think of that.

My shoulder, while still not perfect and often aching if I move it the wrong way, is doing much better. The scar, however, will last a lifetime. Nevertheless, I could have had it worse. Much worse.

We spent the first day home at some hotel in the borough of Brooklyn while we settled things. A lot of things.

Apparently, Reynolds has been doing a lot while we've been gone. And I mean a lot. You can imagine I was surprised to hell when I saw the astronomical amount of money in my bank account. Let's just say it was a lot over seven figures. I have never had a million anything. And combine that with the money in Alexander's account and... Holy shit.

As a poor kid in Russia struggling to make money and skipping meals to save every ruble she can, I could never dream of making that much money.

"What the hell is this?" Alexander asked while on a call with Reynolds.

"Don't worry," Reynolds says. "Consider this as only the beginning. There's a lot more money to be made on the road of fame."

It was odd, to say the least. After being on a mission in France, I was thrown back into the life of fame like it doesn't matter. It was a bit of a culture shock... is that the right use of the term? I don't know. Reynolds told me to adjust. And quick. We have work to do... but that's all for later.

After a lot of pestering and a lot of begging, Alexander finally agreed to do one thing I've been wanting to do since we first came to America: buy a house.

Alexander and I started off by making a list of things we need in the house. I quickly noticed how different Alexander and I are thinking.

"We need at least two bedrooms," Alexander said, writing that down in his notes on his phone.

"We need a pool!"

Alexander gazed at me. "We do not need a pool."

"Oh, come on. Please?"

"Why would we need a pool?"

"To swim. Duh," I drone.

"I thought you didn't like swimming."

"In open water, I don't. But a pool should be fun. Please, Alex? Pretty please?"

Alexander sighed as he added it to the list. "I'd like an office for myself."