Hamilton One-Shots DISCONTINUED

Pheaker

-Philip POV-
They Reynolds Pamphlet. I look at the piece of paper in my hand in disbelief. I can't actually believe him. He had the audacity to cheat on my mom? The best fucking person on this earth?

I can feel my phone buzzing repeatedly in my pocket, probably my friends giving me their condolences and family members worrying about my whereabouts.

I look at the "pamphlet" in my hand. Thomas Jefferson A.K.A my pop's worst enemy, gave it to me. Of course, it's all over the newspapers and newspages.

"Alexander Hamilton had a torrid affair and he wrote it down right there! Highlights!" is blasted across the front page of the New York Post.

I hear my favourite song, 'Hiding In Your Hands' (it's a cut song from DEH it's really good you should check it out) play from my pocket, telling me that my boyfriend, George Eacker, is phoning me.

I pull my phone out and cancel the call. I can't face talking to anyone right now, especially not George. Considering how everyone, including me, has bragged about how I'm just like my pops, I don't want to have that conversation with him right now.

My phone buzzes and chimes again, letting me know that I have a new text message.

Knowing that it's going to be from George, I look at it.

Georgie❤️: I can imagine that ur going through a rough time rn.
Georgie❤️: Call me pls, I just wanna know ur ok and make u feel better 😟.

I ignore it and keep walking, my head down so as to avoid any additional attention being drawn to myself.

I don't really have a direction that I'm walking. Originally I was going to go find my father and beat the shit out of him but the very sight of him (combined with Jefferson giving me a hard copy of my dad's pamphlet and point out specific details) made me feel sick.

I feel my feet slow to a stop and look up to find that I'm outside my boyfriend's house. I sigh and let myself walk up to the door, knocking and then standing there waiting.

The door is pulled open and George peers down at me. I look up at him shyly through my eyelashes and ask, "Can I come in?"

George ushers me inside and hesitates before pulling me into a hug. Once inside my boyfriend's arms, I let loose and just cry. I felt too numb to cry before but now everything's just hitting me.

George rubs my back slowly and soothes me. He makes little shushing noises and hums, knowing that I like it when he hums and sings and all that jazz.

It takes a few minutes before I'm calm enough for George to ask to move me. "Do you wanna go to the sitting room or my bedroom?" he asks quietly, his gravely voice interrupting my thoughts.

I almost burst into tears again at the amount of care in his voice, but I manage to keep it together for long enough to croak, "Bedroom." George scoops my into his arms and carries me upstairs.

He sits down on his bed and cradles me to his chest as I cry. He starts singing my favourite 'Miranda' song, It's Quiet Uptown (Yes I went there, fight me). "The Miaranda's move uptown and learn to live with the unimaginable," he croons softly, kissing my tears away as they fall.

I sniff hard and stop my crying with pure willpower. He stops singing and asks, "Are you ok?" I start to nod, then shake my head, then shrug.

George pulls me closer and kisses the top of my head repeatedly. "What are you feeling right now?" he questions.

I shrug again, feeling tears threaten to overwhelm me again. "I don't know," I choke out, breaking down again. George rubs my back soothing and tells me to get it all out.

After what feels like hours of me sobbing into his shirt, I don't have any tears left to cry. "How do you feel?" George asks me gently (oof I feel like I've used the word "asks" way too many times in this).

"A little bit better," I reply, wiping my nose with my sleeve, which prompts George to go get me a tissue. I wipe my face properly and look up at him with wide eyes.

"George, I promise that I'm not like him, I swear! I wouldn't- I would never- God, I could never cheat on you. I promise. I'm not him, please believe me! Please, just don't break up with me" I beg, whimpering.

George suddenly looks very, very angry. "What?! Philip, I swear to god, whoever told you that I was going to break up with you because of your father's mistakes, is going to die. Tell me their fucking name, or so help me, I'll go and find out everyone who's spoken to you since this came out and I'll kill every single one of them," he fumes.

I suddenly feel very afraid. My fear must show on my face because George looks at me and calms right down.

"Phili, I'm so sorry you had to see me like that. Usually I'm quite good at keeping myself together in front of you, but knowing that some pompous asshole told you I was gonna break up with you cause of your dad makes me so mad," he explains. "I probably should have told you about my anger-management issues back when we first started dating but I didn't want to scare you off."

I smile and stroke his face gently. "Don't worry about it George. I know that you would never take your anger out on me, if that's what you're worried about. Also, please don't kill Thomas Jefferson. He's one of the few politicians who has a, for the most part, decent outlook on the world and modern day issues," I tell him.

George just looks sad. "But why would you think that I was going to break up with you? I'm dating you Philip, not your dad. I trust you, not necessarily your father. Even if you were to ever cheat on me, which I don't think you would, you would come and speak to me about it, not go and publish it to the world. Ok?"

I just smile at my great boyfriend.

"Ok."