I decide to send them a text to let them know I won the case, and also to see if either of them wanted to hang out or if they were still… busy.
Just now
[You] Hey guys!! Guess who just won a case against Hamilton?!
[You] For once!
I sigh and set my phone down. I need a distraction. I wish I could write my worries away, like Alex, or drink them away, like Laurens, or not even worry in the first place, like Thomas! I pull on my shoes and walk out the door, phone in my pocket in case anyone needs to contact me. I don't have a specific destination in mind, I just need fresh air. I pull on a hoodie and shove my hands into the pocket in it, taking a deep breath as if the cold air will help the chaos in my brain.
"What is wrong with you??" I begin, indulging myself in my half-insane habit of talking to myself. "You can't let every little thing bother you like this! Get over it!!" My voice softens as I inhibit my other side.
"But… it's hard. I miss them, and that damned Alex doesn't make anything better."
"I fucking know it! Believe me, I know it more than anyone! You know why? Because I AM you, you fucking idiot! You have GOT to be INSANE." I yell at myself, glad I don't live in the heart of the city.
I shrug. "You know what they say: Talking to yourself is the first sign of insanity."
"Then I've been insane for a long time now!" I quiet down as I see a figure in the distance, now whispering to myself.
"We both knew that!" Then I stop in my tracks, realizing I just referred to myself as "we".
"What are you, fucking Golem?? I mean, I!! What am I!" I yell at myself, and cover my mouth when I remember the figure.
"Burr? Is that you?" I curse at the sound of the familiar voice. Of all people, it had to be Hamilton. Alexander Fucking Hamilton.
I call out in a squeaky voice, "Yes?" I clear my throat and answer again. "Yeah, it's me." He laughs.
"Were you… talking to yourself?" He asks incredulously, and I blush. Hard.
"No?" I clear my throat again. "Maybe?" He laughs at me again. Alexander laughs at me. Then again… I suppose I deserve it. He waves his hand dismissively.
"Never mind your newly discovered insanity… guess who just got asked by President George Washington to be his Secretary of the Treasury?" My jaw falls and my heart stops. Alexander? Really? I mean, we can all agree he's a nice guy… and cute… and charming… and hard-working… and yes, he is better than me. But still… I've been trying! And trying! And trying… and trying…. and trying. Just when I thought I was finally above him, beating him on that case…. He has to one-up me yet again. Still… I can't let him see how destroyed I am. I plaster a smile on my face.
"Let me guess… you?" I raise an eyebrow, doing my best to seem light-hearted. He smiles wide and nods.
"Me." He hugs me joyfully, our political views aside for a few moments and for a few moments, we're the same young friends who met at a bar, who bonded over alcohol, laughter, and meaningless flirting. Well… mostly meaningless. One part of me wants to melt into his arms, let him hold me forever; another part wants to pat his back and congratulate him; yet another part wants to pick him away and yell at him for being better than me. I settle for the only safe one and pat his back, smiling.
"Congratulations, Alexander. I know you'll do great."
"Thanks, Aaron." He checks his watch. "I'd love to stay and talk, but I've got Eliza and a stack of paper waiting for me at home. I'll see you sometime later!" He waves as he runs off, and I wave to his back, dropping my hand and my smile.
"How does a bastard, orphan, son of a whore…! Go on and on…. Grow into more of a phenomenon…." I clench and unclench my fists, unsure of whether to be angry or sad or upset or jealous or motivated or discouraged. "Watch that obnoxious, arrogant, loudmouth bother… "I ignore the voice in my head that says "And also beautiful, charismatic, deserving, and enjoyable" I grit my teeth, wincing when they grind against each other. "be seated at the right hand of the father…." Luckily, a buzz in my pockets distracts me. It's Jefferson. Good. I need someone to vent to about Alex.
Just now
[Thomas] YES! You CRUSH that whore's son!!
[You] Yeah… about that…
[James] Uh-oh
[Thomas] WTH DID THAT MOTHER FUCKER DO THIS TIME
[You] That "motherfucker" is now our nation's Secretary of the Treasury…
[Thomas]
[Thomas] You're kidding, right??
[James] Actually, we have something to tell you that's vaguely related to that
[Thomas] Kill me now
[You] What is it?
[Thomas] You mean to tell me…
[James] Washington actually invited Tommy to be in his cabinet as well
[Thomas] You mean to tell ME…
[Thomas] I'M WORKING ON THE SAME STAFF AS ALEXANDER FUCKING HAMILTON???
My heart falls as the read the last few texts. No, no way. Thomas didn't even fight in the war!! All he did was write the stupid Declaration!! And he even misspelled some words! There is no. Way.
But deep down inside know it's true. Of course Thomas got invited and I didn't.
I slide set my phone to silent and slip it back into my pocket, trying to ignore the overwhelming sense of defeat. Why is it that I try so hard, and yet never succeed? Why is it that the man I love and my best friend always take the things right out from under my nose? I was so close… I was so damn close.
Poor Burr...