I just thought I'd give a little note about how I'm writing Hamilton's character at the start of this chapter - Though he does go through a lot, he is always resilient and always has the best, or what he thinks is the best, resolve. So, yes, he has some shit-spells. He is dealing with a lot mentally, and a past I haven't delved into nearly enough to give a good enough context but I'll leave that to you guys ;) I know it's odd how he bounces in and out of being 100%. But that's just how I picture him to be. So it's intentional, I guess, is what I'm trying to get at.. anyway enjoy! The plot thickens...
"How could we not have seen this coming?" Laurens fumed.
"How could we have seen this coming?"
"You really haven't read that article, have you? Burr literally states in it that you need to watch your back, Hamilton. He writes something about a hurricane? He said that you think it's already here but you don't know the half of it? We should have seen this, I should have seen this. God, babe I'm so sorry, this could've been stopped...I could've stopped it.."
Hamilton ran a hand over his face, in an attempt to ground himself. All it did, however, was make him realise how badly he'd let himself go in the last few days. His facial hair was course and much longer than he'd remembered, against the skin of his palm, and he could feel the dips and bumps of the baggage those sleepless nights had left under his eyes. He was a mess, completely. But he couldn't allow himself this pity for much longer. He had to act, it was either that or watch his life, and maybe the lives of those he loved, fall apart.
"Well. I guess I'll have to write my way out of the motherfucking hurricane, then, Laurens."
Laurens didn't reply, there was something in the pits of his eyes that made Hamilton's heart sink. It was only a moment before he realised it as being guilt. "It's not you're fault, Laurens. C'mon.." he inched over, closing the space between their bodies quickly and pulling Laurens into the first genuine embrace they'd shared in what felt like an age. "Lets get this party set up."
When Laurens' eyes met Hamilton's again, they were smiling. "I missed you."
"Good. Because I'm back."
The guests began to filter in one by one and in small groups, the buzzer took an entire hour to quieten down, and during that time Laurens resolved to standing by the door, the frequency was such. Hamilton felt himself renewed, as if somehow he'd been given a new lease of life. He welcomed the people who wanted to celebrate him, as he always did - with far too many words - all of which were appropriate, however. It was Lafayette who was the first to confront him, with haste, about matters outside of the party and the book launch. The Frenchman burst through the door, and rushed to Hamilton, without even acknowledging Laurens.
"Mom ami! Alexander. Hamilton. Thank you for your article it went down a great storm, in a good way, that's a phase you use, yes? I don't know why a storm would be good but..."
"Laf..." Hamilton chuckled. "It's good to see you."
"You've read what Burr wrote, no? Tell me what you think? I though you would have...how you say...fucked him over? Already. I thought your written response would come a lot quicker."
"I just read it."
"What? Now?"
"Yes about a half hour ago."
"Alexander! Why the delay?"
"Let's not get into that right now, but Laf?"
"Yes, Hamilton? Yes?"
"Burr is coming to the party. And it was Jefferson who told him about it. Something is about to go down. But you need to keep this between us, okay? The less people who know about it the-"
"WHAT? Sir BURR is coming HERE to this PARTY and JEFFERSON? Is involved? HAMILTON. What have you gotten yourself into? Alexander? My friend...this is...a ..pickle? Why do you have the oddest of sayings..." Lafayette trailed off, as Hamilton looked around. The population of the entire room had their eyes trained on them. Lafayette's loud outburst should have been expected, but Hamilton still winced.
"Great. Now everyone knows. Thank you, Laff. Thank you."
"Sorry, sorry, mon ami, sorry. You have to understand, this is very. Disturbing?"
"I know the situation is dire as fuck but, listen. Whatever Jefferson has planned, I'll trump it. You'll help?"
"Of course, I have your back, Alexander."
"Thanks, Laff. Will you let Mulligan know, too, when he shows?"
"Of course, of course. Go, your boyfriend looks as if he's seen a ghost, he needs you."
Hamilton, absorbed in keeping Lafayette from yelling out everything he told him, hadn't paid Laurens, who was still standing by the door, much attention in the past moments. When he looked over at him now, he realised that Laurens had been trying to catch his attention with some intense, desperate, staring. "Thanks for coming, Laff," Hamilton mumbled out of polite habit, in his friend's direction, already moving towards Laurens and the door. Laurens instantly grabbed him by each arm, and pulled him to the door, further away from overly-interested ears.
"They're here." Laurens' voice quivered slightly. Hamilton knew he was scared, but neither of them knew of what. Perhaps that made what lay ahead, the unphantomable what-ifs, ever more daunting to face. Hamilton gave his love a soft smile and let a soothing hand stroke his hair. He cupped Laurens' cheek in one hand, and held his waist with the other. "Don't worry, Darling. I can handle this, now. It'll be civil, a little awkward, a little passive-aggressive. That is all." Hamilton's own lips were trembling, he realised when he pressed his lips to Laurens' forehead, in an attempt to reassure him.
He reached over Laurens' shoulder and pressed the button to speak to Burr and Jefferson, still standing on the street outside. There was silence for a second, while he gathered his thoughts. "I'm letting you through now. It's just you two, right?"
"It is." Jefferson said, his voice soaked in anger and cutting, a reflection of the cold weather Laurens had left them both standing in.
"You know it's started to snow out here, can you let us up already?" Burr added, his voice sounding challenging, as if he was under the presumption Hamilton would turn them away. If it had been 24 hours before, he wouldn't have even been able to speak to them, he recalled. How grateful he was that the tide had turned inside him. He felt completely confident and comfortable going head to head with the two people causing him most threat.
He returned to Lafayette, who had been talking with Mulligan, but barely engaged himself in conversation. Laurens followed him, not wanting to be by the door when Jefferson and Burr arrived, but Hamilton hardly noticed. His mind had stepped back into gear and was currently racing with possibility. Obviously Burr and Jefferson were conspiring against him. Together. He wondered how the hell they'd found each other, Burr's public response to Hamilton's article, maybe? But Burr wasn't by any means homophobic or, Hamilton had thought, a threat to him. Why would he want to become one. He thought of that night in the bar, losing his temper, giving Burr that black eye. Had things really ever been the same between them after that? He found it hard to tell exactly. Would a single punch have thrown Burr over the edge and into a raging hatred for him? If it had, there had been no glaringly plain signs that Hamilton had caught.
The door of the apartment opened and instantly Jefferson was caught up in conversation with a few of his editors, some of which Hamilton had befriended of late and trusted wholeheartedly. Whatever Jefferson was doing to his work, it wouldn't be done under their watch. The pieces started to slide together in Hamilton's head. The only logical explanation for why Jefferson needed Burr. He was a skilled journalist, much like Hamilton. His mind, thought processes aligned with Hamilton's on some, but not most, topics. But most importantly, Burr knew him, knew how he thought, knew how he wrote, knew what he would and wouldn't say, better than anyone. If Jefferson wanted someone to successfully and reputably doctor text Hamilton had written, Burr would be the best choice. So it was his skill, his inside knowledge and their friendship that had drawn Jefferson towards Burr. That still didn't explain why Burr had decided to accept such an offer, supposedly being Hamilton's friend, but he didn't let himself get into that, and besides he could see that Jefferson had rid himself of company and was walking towards them, his thoughts snapping instantly back to the party.
His spine straightened, shoulders tensed, as he braced for the conversation ahead. At least he could confront Jefferson first, he was playing this game, moving his pawns around, but he enjoyed it too much, he'd let some of his plan slip, Hamilton knew it. If not sober, then after a number of beers. There was one thing Hamilton knew for sure, as Jefferson introduced himself to Lafayette and nodded a disregarding greeting to Laurens : This night was going to change his life.