A/N: I got tired of there not being many Jamilton fanfics sooooo yeah. This happened.

Disclaimer: Don't own the "characters."

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Living in New York wasn't as easy as Alexander Hamilton had hoped it would be. At the ripe age of 22 he had collected just enough money to afford a plane ride to the big apple from his small town in Nevis. Everything that had occured back in his Caribbean home left his thoughts plagued. He just wanted to get away. However, he didn't plan past getting to New York. Getting granted citizenship was another story entirely.

So here he was. The great Alexander Hamilton that was practically born with stars in his eyes and a fire in his belly to prove himself- working as a penniless waiter in one of the numerous cafes that dotted the street corners of New York City.

Don't misunderstand. He was penniless in Nevis too, but now he was a servant and still penniless. What joy.

Alexander didn't exactly mind his job, it just wasn't ideal. He knew he could achieve so much more and seeing people come in to Liberty Cafe with three-piece suits and flashy jewelry every day reminded him of that. The young man longed to have the status that these slaving away office workers had even if half of them were most likely depressed and the other half in denial about their depression.

He could make it work though, but who would hire an immigrant straight from Nevis without any proper education? Alexander had his heart set on Columbia University, but he simply did not have the funds for it and even though he was an exceptional writer no one was willing to take their chances on him and grant him a scholarship.

His only option was to go straight into the workforce and it wasn't proving to be easy at all.

But, hey. It could be so much worse.

With his current job he had just enough money to pay his rent for a small, hole in the wall apartment in Manhattan. He was pretty sure his landlord was a drug dealer and his neighbor was a prostitute, but he chose to ignore those factors. The rent was cheap enough and that's what mattered. At the very least he befriended someone in his apartment complex, one John Laurens. He made living there slightly more bearable.

Being a waiter his work never came home with him and he loved that. It gave him all of the time in the world to write his novel. He had been working on it even back in Nevis, but he found that it kept changing. Moving to New York City gave him such inspiration.

Alexander typed away on his phone, with his tongue poking slightly out between his lips. He was completely and utterly focused on writing a crucial scene when he was pulled out of his thoughts by a ring.

He ignored it, feeling his heart race with the intensity of the scene that he continued to write. The words were flowing easily and he didn't want it to stop-

Ring. Ring ring.

Ringringringring-

Alexander's head shot up and searched for the source of the noise. His eyes were met with a tall man standing across from him, leaning forward against the counter with a bored expression. Despite Alexander acknowledging him, the man continued to ring the service bell repeatedly while holding full eye contact with him.

Was this guy serious?

Alexander quickly pocketed his phone and pulled a stretched smile onto his lips that his boss, Lafayette, always reminded him to have when customers were around. Even if the smile was painfully fake.

It was then that Alexander got a better look at the excessive ringer. The nuisance was wearing a nauseating magenta vest over a white button down accompanied by a black tie and slacks. Over the man's shoulders was a thick, black winter coat that was obviously of high quality. Probably some sort of designer brand. Whatever it was it definitely rivaled Alexander's thin hoodie that he bore during the winter months.

As for the man's physical features he had a strong jaw, cocoa powder colored skin, and poofy dark hair that matched his eyes. Alexander would consider the man possibly handsome if the pompous man wasn't giving him such a look.

"You know," Alexander began with the fake smile stretched eerily from ear to ear, "it only takes about two rings."

The stranger clicked his tongue and stopped leaning against the counter, instead standing to his full height which made him tower over Alexander naturally.

"Not when you've been sitting at a table waiting to be waited on for," the stranger checked the watch on his wrist that was no doubt real gold, "about 15 minutes? While your incompetent waiter has been sitting on his phone texting the entire time.

Alexander immediately bristled, clenching his jaw. He already hated this self entitled asshole. The immigrant raised his chin and was about to make a sharp retort when he realised he probably really shouldn't have been on his phone at work. Lafayette was very lenient with him and he didn't want that to change.

Instead, Alexander opted to say, "I wasn't texting, but my apologies, sir. What can I get you?"

He just had to remain calm and polite. That should be easy enough.

The man rolled his eyes and began to take out his wallet, "Right. Well, I would like a grande extra hot soy with extra foam, split shot with a half squirt of sugar-free vanilla and a half squirt of sugar-free cinnamon, a half packet of splenda. Oh and put that in a venti cup and fill up the "room" with extra whipped cream with caramel and chocolate sauce drizzled on top. I will also like one of your croissants and make sure it's fresh. Do it quick and I'll consider giving you the tip that you lost from making me wait."

Never mind. He felt a burning hatred towards this man's very soul. It was just now that he heard the man's slight southern accent. Alexander started putting together this man's backstory in his head. Probably rich from daddy's money back home in Alabama, sheltered life, and everything handed to him.

He knew it was unfair to judge a book by its cover, but being an author it was a habit of his. People watching was one of his favorite past times. It gave him such inspiration for characters.

Alexander could already see himself adding this man into a story just to kill him off in the most gruesome way he could think of.

Ok, maybe that was a little too dark of him…

Alexander stiffened and keeping his jaw clenched tight he rang up his order and muttered a quick "right away, sir" and began to make the insufferable drink for the man. He wasn't even completely sure if he was doing it correctly. Imagine that. Someone as bright as himself getting stumped by a coffee order.

"Name?" Alexander asked, keeping his tone as disinterested as the stranger appeared to be.

The man's stone expression finally cracked into a small smirk, "Jefferson."

"Perfect name for a jerk," Alexander mumbled under his breath as he quickly scribbled it onto the coffee cup.

Jefferson was making his way over to one of the many vacant tables (it was still very close to opening time- hardly anyone was in there) when he stopped short. "Excuse me?" he turned around with a single eyebrow raised.

Alexander plucked a fresh croissant from the pile under the glass display and placed it onto a plate, "I said your order is ready, sir," he said, keeping the innocent, sickly sweet smile plastered onto his face.

Jefferson stared at him for a moment, regarding him closely. Alexander was sure that Jefferson probably heard what he actually said. The man's mouth turned down into a frown as he slipped out a couple of dollar bills and placed them on the counter, "This should be enough to buy yourself some manners."

He then took the hot cup of atrocities and the plate with the croissant into his hands and left to his table while Alexander wished he could have threw the hot beverage in his face.

The smaller man glared at the back of Jefferson's head, trying more than to burn a hole in it. He wouldn't stop glaring until Jefferson's whole body burst into flames.

Now, Alexander knew he was brash and had issues with holding his tongue, but he usually didn't get quite this angry with someone he had just met. Yet, here he was already planning the other's demise in a short story he would write later when he got home.

He was disrupted from his thoughts when his boss came out from the back of the cafe. The Frenchman was whistling an upbeat tune to himself as he joined Alexander at the front. Lafayette was always a morning person. It was both remarkable and sickening.

At seeing Alexander's pissed demeanor, Lafayette stopped his whistling and looked to the younger man with a tinge of concern, "Mon ami, what is the matter?"

Alexander shook his head and began to make himself useful by cleaning off the counters, "Just rude customers is all," he grumbled under his breath.

Lafayette's brow quirked as he looked around the small cafe. The Frenchman's eyes immediately landed on Jefferson.

"Oh? Was it him by chance?" Lafayette inquired, gesturing to the man who was sat on his phone while nibbling away at the pastry.

"Yeah? How did you guess that right away?"

Lafayette sighed, "Thomas is known to be a little rude, but he is a good man. Don't pay him much mind, mon petite lion."

Alexander scoffed, "How do you know?"

"I knew him when I was back in France. We attended university together and came here to New York around the same time. He is...a friend of mine, I would say," Lafayette mused with a fond smile.

With a squint of disbelief, Alexander glanced back over to Jefferson. Probably feeling the eyes on him, Jefferson looked up from his coffee and made eye contact with him. Alexander quickly looked away while Jefferson's gaze turned to Lafayette who gave him a warm wave.

"Ah, Lafayette!" Jefferson stood up from his seat and made his way over to them, throwing his garbage into the trash can as he passed, "I didn't know you were running a cafe now? I quite like the ambiance to it that you brought from France. Too bad your staff is a little challenged."

Before Alexander could hop over the counter and strangle Jefferson to the ground, Lafayette circled around it and gave Jefferson a warm hug. The Frenchman kissed both of his cheeks, "Nonsense! Alexander is my best waiter; he's such a hard worker."

Jefferson embraced his old friend in return, but over Lafayette's shoulder he held Alexander's glare that was trained on him. "Is that so? It took him forever to wait on me. He was far too busy with his trivial cell phone at the time."

This made Alexander's blood reach its boiling point, "Hang on-!"

Lafayette waved dismissively at Alexander as he pulled back from his and Jefferson's hug, "Alexander was probably working on his book, non? He's always working at it every spare moment he has. All though, he does space out a little when he's writing."

Lafayette gave him a coy smile accompanied by a wink, but Alexander also knew it was a small warning without any malice behind it. After all, Lafayette was his boss and Alexander needed to remind himself when it was appropriate to write and when it wasn't.

Choosing to stay silent, Alexander's shoulders slouched in understanding, "Speaking about that, Laf, I was wondering if I could leave a bit early today towards the end of my shift? I have an interview with a publishing company."

Suddenly, Jefferson spoke up, "Which one?"

Alexander's eyebrows knitted together, "Mount Vernon's Publishing."

Why did he care?

It was then that Alexander could have sworn he saw a twinkle in the others eyes, but as soon as it was there- it was gone.

Weird.

"Interesting. Well, I must be going. The day awaits after all," Jefferson's lips twitched back into a sly smirk, "See you around, Alexander."

Just as Jefferson was about to leave out of the cafe doors, Alexander spoke up.

"That's Hamilton to you."

Jefferson's smirk grew into a grin as he replied with a mocking tone from earlier, "Perfect name for a pipsqueak."

So Jefferson had heard him earlier.

Before Alexander could tackle him, Lafayette wrapped his arms around his waiter's waist and Jefferson was already out the door.

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A/N: Let me know if you would like me to continue this! I want to, but reviews/comments will give me more incentive

Also Happy New Year!