In New York You Can Be A New Man (Lams)

New York

Hello everyone! So this is my first time writing a Hamilton fanfic (yes I am a new fan and only started caring about it after it was on disney+), so sorry if it is bad. :)

Alex's PoV

After having my life literally and figuratively ripped apart, I was on a plane to New York. The school I was going to join wanted to help some of the kids recently affected by the hurricane in the Carribean.

The high school, called Kingston, told me my guardian who I would live with was named Mr. Washington. Despite the horrid situation I lived in previous to moving, I was still lucky enough to have a phone. It was amazing, but it also meant I was getting nonstop emails from Kingston. 

Once my flight landed, I began to worry about finding Mr. Washington. I had no idea what he looked like after all. Oh no! What if I couldnt find him?! I was told he'd be right there when I got off the plane, but airports are so big. What if he couldn't find where he was suppose to be? What if he was in the bathroom while I was arriving? Many more nerve wracking thoughts filled my head as I exited the plane.

When the array of people cleared enough that I could see where I was going, someone shouted my name.

"Alecander," I heard from across the boarding zone. I looked up to see a bald man with brown eyes next to a boy who looked about my age with curly hair that was pulled back in a ponytail.

I walked over to them and said, "Hello, I assume you're Mr. Washington."

"Yes, I am. This is Lafayette. He is a foreign exchange student from France. He is in the same grade as you so he'll show you around and such. I suppose you guys are basically like brothers," Mr. Washington replied.

"Okay, sounds good. May I ask you a question though Mr. Washington?" I asked. I wanted to be as polite as possible as to make a good impression on him.

"Yes, but please don't call me Mr. Washington. It's much too formal. You can call me George, or dad if you'd like to. I say that because Lafayette calls me Papa," he responded.

I scrunched my face in thought. I definitely don't want to accocaite this man with my father. So, I replied, "Um, I probably won't call you dad just because I have a bad relationship with my father so it would just remind me of him, but I can call you George. Anyway, my question was how did you know it was me?"

"We got an email from school describing you: long brown hair, brown eyes, etc." George replied.

We began to make our way to their car when Lafayette finally talked to me. In a heavy French accent he asked, "So what was your father like? Just wondering because of what you said earlier."

"I'd rather not talk about it," I responded. My father was honestly the worst, and it really pained me to talk about him. He would always be drinking and that led to him beating my mom and I. Then one day, when I was 14, he just left. He said he was sick of taking care of us. Yeah, you did a real good job of taking care of us dad. I'm sure that was very tiring.

He made of face of worry, obviously noticing made me uncomfortable and replied, "Oh, sorry. But you can talk to me about it if you need to. My father was a douche too. Just one of the many reasons I moved here." I smiled at him. I could tell we were going to be friends.