Hamilsquad's in my house, whoops (OLD)

Raz

I was just a normal human being. I was nineteen this year, and living in an apartment in Florida I could barely afford. And of course, I was a huge theatre kid. I loved Hamilton, Great Comet, Heathers, Dear Evan Hansen and Six. A strange bunch.

I drank coffee 24/7 and slept like 4 days a week, so you can probably guess what I looked like with such amazing self-care.

It was a day like any other: 3 AM, browsing through Wattpad and giggling at fluff with a cup of coffee at my side. I eventually got tired, and looked at my clock: 3:30 AM. Rubbing my eyes, I shut off my tablet, plugged it in, and lazily threw a blanket over myself.

time skip because I can bitches

I awoke from a lovely dream of blue flamingos dancing the conga in a boreal forest with French flags waving. Looking at my clock again, it was apparently 11:10 AM. I launched myself out of bed, nearly tearing the covers off the bed and bumping my head on my dresser, and put on this outfit:

Still half-asleep, I lumbered out of my bedroom and into the kitchen. I realized I had no tablet, which means no No Way on Spotify, so I rushed back and grabbed my tablet so I could listen to various Six songs. Approaching the fridge again, I slammed it open and blinked morosely at the egg container that was half-empty, the two bags containing bread, the cream cheese container, the fruit yogurt containers, and the cheese that made up my fridge.

So I ended up eating a lovely breakfast of coffee, fruit yogurt, and cheese. You're all jealous, I know. And then suddenly...

CRASH

"Well fuck. I've never gotten invaded before but there's a first time for everything, right?" I said to no one in particular. I waited before Catherine of Aragon was done singing before investigating the noise because I make bad decisions like that.                                                                 The nearest defense item was the empty coffee mug, but it's better than nothing! So I ran into my room, where the source of the sound was, looking all majestic with my empty coffee mug and stuff. I was greeted by the sight of a very hot guy, to be honest. He had this gorgeous dark skin and black hair pulled into a bun, and he had some nice old-timey clothes on and was currently in my bathtub. "Uh, excuse me?" I asked, definitely totally NOT blushing. "..." The guy pulled himself up and blinked. (A/N: For the purpose of this story being easier, I've aged down all hot guys that aren't married and/or Washingdad to 19. Washingdad is too much of a father figure to be dated.)  "Bonjour. Où suis-je?" he asked with this gorgeous French accent."Oh, uh, sorry, I don't speak too much French..." I muttered and averted your eyes. "It's fine, belle femme."

CRASH! "OW! What the hell wall? Watch where you're going in the future!"

French Fry seemed to have just realized he never told you his name. "Ah, where are my manners? Je m'appelle Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette." I was even more scared at this point. "Uh... that's a lot of names. I guess I'm (Y/N) (Y/M/N if you have one) (Y/L/N)." Lots o' Names Lafayette smiled. "What a gorgeous name, ma cheri!" I had a feeling that he was flattering me in French, so I blushed. "S-should we check out the bump? Oh shit I'm blushing and stuttering, uh ignore me god I want to melt into the ground right now." Lots o' Names Lafayette also blushed slightly and smirked. "Of course, ma cheri."

So it turned out to be this equally as hot guy with brown hair pulled into a ponytail and freckles all over, and an equally as old-timey costume. He said his name was John Laurens, and Lots o' Names Lafayette seemed really excited to see him.

So I brought them both to the living room and made them sit down on the couch. Freckles sat on my left, and Lots o' Names Lafayette on my right. "So," I began, "it's 2020." Freckles made a sound between a whimper and a gulp, and Lots o' Names Lafayette just blankly stared. "Uh... funny joke?" Freckles said, though it sounded more like a question than a statement. "Yeah, no." You cut him off from saying anything else. "There's a pandemic going around, so social distance- oh wait. Oh wait, oh no. Your immunity. I'm not used to diseases from the... 1700s?" They nodded. "And you're not used to diseases from 2020. Well, uh, stay inside, hope our immune systems are amazing as fuck, and yeah." Freckles and Lots o' Names Lafayette just blinked; they clearly were not used to hearing a lady swear.

"So should I make breakfast? For you. Or lunch. For me. Should I?"

(A/N: hahaha look at me trying to rewrite a story!!! hopefully this is good, or better than the last one. hopefully.)

Word count: 853 words