"What's wrong with all of your names!?" Alexander Hamilton burst out one evening while eating dinner with his friends. There was silence for a few moments as they all looked round at each other. Alexander fumed into his stew.
"I don't see what you mean." Lafayette said eventually.
"Oh, come on, man!" Alexander threw down his spoon and stood up. "I know you're French and all, but 'Lafayette'? Seriously? What does that even mean, 'The Dumb Name'?"
Lafayette put a hand to his chest as if to say, 'Moi?'
"And what even is your first name?"
Lafayette's hand left his chest and started to describe circles in the air. "Well, it's-"
"No, I don't actually- ERHM!" Hamilton cut Lafayette off with a wave of his hand. As he turned away Lafayette made a rude gesture behind his back. John Laurens had the bravery to let out a snort of laughter.
"And you!" Hamilton said, turning on him. "'Laurens'? 'Laurens'?! Isn't Lauren, like, a girl name?"
Laurens looked crestfallen. Did people really think of girls upon hearing his name? He wanted his name to strike fear into the hearts of his enemies!
"Actually, it might also be a flower..." Alexander said. "Ehmm, no, I'm pretty sure it's just a girl name."
John Laurens didn't look anymore pleased.
"And Hercules Mulligan," Alexander said. The teasing laughter in Mulligan's eyes suddenly turned to something similar to fear.
"I wouldn't name my child Hercules to begin with, but a last name like Mulligan just makes it so much worse! What on earth were your parents thinking!? Had I been cursed with a horrible name like Mulligan, I would at least name my son something normal, like, Philip, or something. But to be honest, if I had your name, I would just change it."
Tears had filled Mulligan's eyes and looked ready to spill out at any minute. His bottom lip quivered.
"Alexander."
Hamilton turned again, to where he saw a familiar someone sitting in the corner.
"Aaron Burr, sir." He said viciously.
Burr stood, setting down his drink. "Alexander," he repeated with a small smile, "Are you upset because you haven't been on the battlefield much lately?"
Alexander flushed; even in the dim light of the bar it was obvious that that was the reason.
Lafayette caught on. "Aww," he cooed. "Is poowr wittle Hamilton sad because he's big Genewal's secwatawy?"
Mulligan sniffled.
"Wha– no!" Hamilton said, his face growing redder by the second. "That's not– Your mother's sad 'cause she's not on the battlefield–"
Collective laughter rang around the table.
"And, I mean, what kind of name is 'Hamilton' anyway?" John Laurens asked, laughing nervously. The others joined in.
"That's IT!" Alexander slammed his fist on the table and stormed out.
For some time, there was silence.
Mulligan wiped away a tear, hoping that nobody would notice.
"So... where did he go?" Lafayette asked.
"I dunno, probably to the– hrmm, to the bathroom or something," Mulligan said, trying to hide the fact that that his voice had broken.
More laughing, louder this time. Alexander, hiding just inside the bathroom, heard it. Growing angrier, he threw open the door and stomped out of the bar, ignoring the growing laughter behind him.