"What kind of asshole drives a purple Prius?"

Alex and Eliza were sitting on the curb in front of the school (the same curb Alex and John used to frequent, but he wasn't thinking about that now) and watching the cars drive by for the first day of school. Both Alex and Eliza were starting their junior years and had first period free.

"A douchey one."

They snickered and sipped their coffees.

The Prius rolled to a stop directly in front of Alex's ratty old Converse, a stark contrast to the shiny smooth surface of the car.

He and Eliza stepped back, exchanging confused glances.

The passenger door swung open with great aplomb, and a bright purple Nike sneaker stepped delicately on the pavement, carefully avoiding the puddle Alex realized his shoes had been resting in.

The mysterious figure slunk out of the car, purple shoes followed by black jeans followed by a white button-down with a purple cardigan over it.

Thomas Jefferson smiled his shark-tooth grin.

"What'd I miss?"

"Where was he this whole time?" Alex hissed to Eliza half an hour later as they stood outside the entrance to the school.

Jefferson was standing in the middle of the lawn, chatting amiably with a few students who were staring at him with a mixture of awe and horror.

"France." She whispered back. "Some kind of exchange program."

They inched forward in an effort to hear the conversation happening on the lawn.

"It's great to be back," Jefferson was saying smoothly. "It's wonderful to see Continental High School again. Honestly, I'd make out with it if I could. But that would be weird."

One of the girls sighed at his words. "I'd make out with you, Thomas."

Alex snorted, doubling forward.

What kind of—

"And who are you?"

Alex found himself nose-to-nose with Thomas Jefferson himself.

Brown eyes stared into brown.

"Alexander Hamilton." He nudged Jefferson a little out of his personal bubble and stuck out his hand. Jefferson delicately shook his hand, wiping his hand on his cardigan afterwards.

Alex felt hate bubble up inside him. He watched Jefferson attempt to kiss Eliza's hand, sticking his tongue out at her as she slapped his hand away.

Yes, Jefferson was exactly the kind of asshole who drove a purple Prius.

Thomas's purple Prius was perfect. Inside of it, he felt invulnerable. It got him attention and made a character statement. It was glorious.

He sat in it in the parking lot outside of the school for a while, just staring at Continental High School. It was a nice building. Fairly old, stout and tall, red brick with paintings on the front. It was hard to believe that King was finally gone.

He had received an email earlier from Mr. Washington. Washington was going to be the new principal, it seemed, and he wanted Jefferson to be the secretary. Secretary and treasurer were appointed positions, not elected ones, but it seemed that every student that had been surveyed had already approved him. And apparently, Madison would be there too.

On that note…

Thomas turned his keys into the ignition.

A few minutes later, Jefferson waltzed into the library, arms spread wide. "Madison! My beautiful little buttercup!"

"Thomas." Madison greeted with gritted teeth, reluctantly allowing himself to be folded into Jefferson's buoyant hug. "Where have you been?"

Jefferson paused. "Uh, France?"

Madison rolled his eyes. "It's called a rhetorical question, dumbass."

Jefferson draped himself on Madison's shoulder. "Oh, my gumdrop, how I've missed you."

"Oh, you soggy bowl of cereal, how I haven't."

A pause.

"What's goin' on?"

Madison extracted himself from Jefferson's embrace and made his way over to his laptop. "Have you met Hamilton?"

"Short with gross Converse?"

"That's the one. Hamilton's new financial plan is than fucking ridiculous. I've been fighting for us alone—we have to win."

Jefferson fell dramatically into the chair across from Madison's, limbs akimbo. "Let's go, sugarbear."

"I've got my first council meeting today—"

Madison and Jefferson were making their way over to the classroom where student council was held.

"—I guess I'd better think of something to say."

Madison snorted. "Lucky for you, the day you stop talking is the day I die."

"Aw, sugarplum."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Nope!"

XXX

And so Act 2 begins. We'd love it if you could review!