Chapter Text
Lafayette swept up the last pieces of hair that were cluttered onto the floor from his latest customer, before leaping onto his phone which lay on the stone counter. He swiped to see his latest instagram feed, liking the first few aesthetic pictures that came up before the bell above the door rang gently and he was off to work again. That was Lafayette's usual routine, and not much differed from that.
Of course, each customer had their own story to tell when they came in, and some were in fact quite bizarre- so bizarre that Lafayette had to go take a break in the back for a bit before recovering- but all the while quite entertaining. Lafayette was pretty sure he had memorised most of them by now, mainly the ones of the regulars that came in. He didn't find it annoying however, in fact quite the opposite. He found it interesting listening to other people's gossip and trying to give everyone advice. That was what Lafayette was known for after all, his advice. Of course, his impeccable hair skills was quite all the rage too, but more so his other skill.
"Excuse me! I said I'd have a trim please." The man seated in front of him scowled, and Lafayette quickened himself, cutting as neatly and as quickly as he could. He almost nearly cut a part of the man's ear off but luckily narrowly missed, and began to slow down a bit in order to not make a similar mistake.
"Pardon Monsieur Reynolds, I was just thinking." Lafayette replied politely, before bringing a mirror to show Mr Reynolds the back of his hair. "Besides, j'ai fini. Ten dollars s'il vous plaît?"
Reynolds grimaced, getting up as Lafayette took the cutting gown off him. He fumbled around with his wallet a bit, whilst muttering crudely under his breath.
Lafayette pretended not to hear as he pulled out a crisp ten dollar bill. Then he hurriedly went on his way, almost knocking over another guy incoming through the door. When the person noticed Lafayette's sour look on his face, he burst out laughing.
"What's up Laf? Why the grim look?" John beamed as he casually strolled in, making sure the bell was rung extra loudly. Thankfully, it wasn't another customer. Lafayette wasn't sure how much more he could take of this. All at once, his insults came hurling out as quick as he could manage say them.
"Reynolds! Ç'est un emmerdeur! The man does not know how to be patient, mon dieu!" Lafayette hissed, practically smacking the broom he was holding into the ground aggressively with every few breaths. "J'en ai plus rien à foutre, j'en ai ral le cul..."
"Laf, Laf! Calm down man, Reynolds has always got a stick up his ass anyway. Look, close up shop for a moment, and we'll go get a drink or something alright? You look like you need a break. Time to cool off."
"Vrai." Lafayette nodded. "Anything to get away from that-"
John gave him a disapproving look, and Lafayette made a mental note to shush himself. John continued.
"I've just got to go to the loo and all, you pack up the store. I'll be five minutes max. We'll meet at the Starbucks across from yours." John said, before rushing out of the shop, the door slamming back into place. Lafayette took in a deep breath and immediately went to turn the sign on the store around so it displayed the word "Closed" upon it. He grabbed his phone, wallet and keys, checked himself out in the mirror and started to head off, but not before giving the place one last quick look. Despite being sort of sick of it, the place had held so many memories that were precious to Lafayette and he knew he really didn't want to let go of that.
He remembered the first time he had gotten it as a present from Washington. Not exactly all from Washington of course, but he had donated some money to Lafayette in hopes he would someday buy it. And when the day of the grand opening came, and when he cut that glorious red ribbon and he looked over to George he could see the pride physically rising within him, and Lafayette had never felt more happier on that day. In the first starting weeks, a lot of Lafayette's friends came, sometimes from different countries, just to help unpack all of the new equipment that would be in there. He remembered their sweet words, how John patted him on the back and told him how far he had come to finally get his own place and—
Now he was here. Lafayette had made it. He took what was once impossible, what seemed like a shit ton of money became affordable, and here he was. Pride was not the word he was looking for.
When he had walked across the street to Starbucks, John was already sitting at an outside table with their two drinks. He wasn't paying attention though, for John had his sketchbook out and was doodling a nearby Robin perched in the tree. He didn't even hear Lafayette dramatically take a chair out and kick his feet onto the table.
"So then, mon ami, how are you?" Laf asked first only to see John wasn't gracing him with a response. Lafayette scoffed, thinking about how weird Americans were and opened up instagram again, clicking on John's page. John didn't post many pictures of himself, and if he did then it was usually because he was out drinking. Lots of his were comprised of his own drawings of nature.
"John, I swear you have drawn this bird already. Ah, see? Here." Laf said, selecting a picture from three weeks ago and pointing at it. "What is the point of doing it again?"
"Just because it's the same species doesn't mean it's the same animal, Laf. Like, this could just be another robin from another bird mom— y'know?" John huffed, not taking his eyes off the page.
"Still. I would find it a bit boring." Lafayette replied, taking a sip of his drink. The flavour instantly burst into his mouth, and he sighed contently at the swirl of colours rising in his mouth.
"And what about you? You keep complaining to me that your work is boring?" John asked, but Lafayette waved it off.
"That's because it's true. But it's not like I can do anything to change it."
John pursed his lips together. "I think you're exaggerating a bit Laf. It can't be that boring."
Lafayette got a bit annoyed at John's comment. John really didn't know what it was like to be cooped up inside most of the time because unlike Lafayette, John was a privileged fucker. Not exactly, but John had more opportunities presented to him than Lafayette could ever bargain for. He rose his voice a little.
"Mon dieu, of course it's boring doing the same thing everyday! I just want something to change, something nouveau, passionnant! Don't you agree, non?"
John kept quiet, taking another sip. Lafayette was starting to get worried he had upset his friend, until once again he spoke.
"Get a new job?" John offered, but Lafayette disagreed.
"I'm not giving up on 'The American Hairforce', you know I can't."
The two still laughed at that name. It was a result of one of their drunken nights out, where the two played drunk scrabble ("John, I don't even fully know English but I don't think 'sploop' counts as a word") and spent some of their time working on patriotic puns. That was a pretty great night too actually, Laf thought, before the other man perked up.
John clasped onto his cup of coffee tighter, looking out onto the road. A light sigh escaped from his lips.
"I think we all need a little change in our lives."
"You?" Lafayette looked at John curiously. John Laurens' life was definitely far from boring. The man was free to travel about, he didn't even have to go to work constantly. Besides, John Laurens was so filthy rich he could practically go anywhere he wanted to, but he stayed in New York for some odd reason. If Lafayette was like John, then he'd for sure take private jet trips to and from France frequently.
"Actually, I have been thinking of contacting my father." John commented much to Laf's surprise. Usually, John Laurens would have hated to mention his father, despite so fondly looking up to him and asking for advice. Now, he was actually willing to seek him out and it just seemed so... suspicious.
"He's no good Laurens! You're better off leaving him in the dark!" Lafayette insisted, but John seemed to disagree.
"If there's anything that will guarantee me change, it's my father. He has been supportive of me.."
Lafayette choked on his straw at that last part. "Are you kidding me? Merde, John, he is anything but that."
"If we are pushing aside the homophobia, yeah, he has been supportive." John firmly said, having stopped drawing now.
The two sat there, uneasily. Talking about such a topic in public wasn't a good idea. There was a thick layer of tension, and so Lafayette quickly concluded to change the subject as soon as possible.
"Hey, John? Do you think I'll get un amour soon?"
John sat upright, giving Lafayette a good long stare. After a bit of thought, he nodded.
"Well, you've certainly got the looks."
Lafayette grinned, twirling a loose hair with one hand whilst giving John a 'please continue!' look.
"I know I do. So why is it I don't have anyone yet?"
John shrugged, taking a sip of his own coffee. "Maybe it's cuz your personality is shit— ow!"
Lafayette kicked John hard under the table. John rubbed his leg in pain, whilst Lafayette had a huge smile on his face.
"Right right, like yours is any better."
John had a playful smile on his face as he began to put his stuff away, yet Lafayette couldn't shake the feeling that he had done wrong earlier when he had previously mentioned why his father was terrible.
John's voice broke Lafayette's train of thought.
"Thanks for the talk Laf. I really needed that."
Lafayette smiled, enveloping John in a small hug. "Anytime, mon ami. However I do believe I needed this more than you."
The two shared a laugh, before waving goodbye and going on their separate ways.
Only just having crossed the street, Lafayette felt a soft buzzing from his pocket. He took out his phone and read the latest text message.
Lafayette shot back a reply as soon as he read the two lines. Whatever happened, John was clearly feeling under the weather, and Lafayette now had to show as much support as possible to his friend. It was only right.
Lafayette slid the phone back into his pocket and took out his keys to the hairdressers to unlock them. The door opened with a click, only to be shut again as Lafayette gave a tired sigh. Although it was only about one in the afternoon, he wasn't really feeling like doing anything today. If he had the choice to, he would have went to bed and watched Netflix, but since that wasn't happening Lafayette regretfully opened the shop, and no more than two seconds later the door instantly swung open. Lafayette caught the door as it practically smacked him against the wall, before closing it to reveal a young man who looked about the place excitedly.
Heck, the place wasn't even open yet for more than a minute and already he had another customer.
"Excusez-moi?" Lafayette asked, capturing the attention of the man. "How may I assist you?"
The man beamed, holding out his hand. Lafayette looked at it awkwardly— he hadn't been offered somebody's hand before. He was about to kiss it politely but decided it could come across as a little weird so he shook it warm-heartedly instead.
"I'm Alexander Hamilton, sir! I came across this place from a friend, and I decided to check it out. I needed a place to cut my hair."
Friend? Lafayette casually thought, thinking about who it may have been but realised it would be too much effort to work out who.
"Voulez-vous rafraîchir les pointes?" He asked instead, and Alex nodded his head enthusiastically. He wasn't entirely sure if Alex understood what he just said, but went along with it anyway. It was probably a bad decision, but he moved on.
"Since you are un nouveau client, it'll be on the house. Just this once." Lafayette winked, Alex's eyes widening.
"Oh no sir, I couldn't!" He smiled. "It wouldn't be fair, so I insist that I must pay up! It could be seen as unfair treatment, and I wouldn't want you being caught for something like that."
"Are you sure?" Laf asked, half in disbelief. This was due to the fact that, he would have thought anyone would have taken it for free.
"I'm sure. Otherwise that's not being fair. Besides, I'd feel guilty if I don't." Alex said, and Lafayette had a big smile as he set his new friend down and put a new cutting gown on him. He took the man's ponytail out, picked up his usual metal pair of scissors and instantly went to work, the cut hair floating gently towards the ground. With every snip, he could see that Alex visibily tensed up, and so he put his hand reassuringly on his shoulder.
"Oh pardon, was I perhaps going to fast for you? Don't worry— I won't cut your skin or anything."
Alex didn't relax, but he managed to try settle down for Lafayette.
"It's fine, I wasn't worried."
Lafayette couldn't help but think the man was just trying to be brave as he danced the scissors on his hair. Of course he wasn't going to point this out to his new customer, so instead he continued working at a steady pace.
"Aaron Burr showed me this place," Alex said, eyes gleaming. "I met him just outside Starbucks, he said you were great at haircuts! And then, here I am."
Lafayette paused. "Aaron Burr? Ah oui, he's meant to have an appointment in fifteen minutes. Perhaps he wanted to look around first before getting it done."
"Burr seems to be a good man. We talked for a bit about politics— I'm studying the law you see, but in the meantime I'm an author. I tend to write factual ones though, not really any stories. Not to say I don't write stories. I just write them in my spare time, never published them. But yeah, I guess I would like to be a lawyer more than anything."
Lafayette hummed in agreement. "That's nice."
The two shared a comfortable silence. That was until Alexander started conversation after conversation, mainly just talking about his own life. A quick summary of what he had learnt so far was that he had learnt that Alex was an orphan, and came from Charlestown, Nevis. The people there had seen his extraordinary talent he possessed and started to raise money just to send the kid a better education. From there, he kept reading and writing, practising and enhancing his skills until finally he made it to where he was today.
There were two things Lafayette learnt about Alexander's personality: he was amazingly talented at writing and gifted in the art of non-stop talking. He never seemed to stop for a single breath, words just flowing endlessly. When Lafayette was done, the man was still talking, and their cutting time had gone on for an extra ten whole minutes. But he didn't want Alexander to stop talking. He just had so many stories to share, so many adventures.
If only his life could be that intriguing.
"How much was it again sir?" Alex questioned as Lafayette tidied away the area around him.
"Hmm? Ah, ç'est gratuit."
Alex seemed to be pleased at this, putting away his wallet gleefully. Of course, everyone likes free stuff. It was only a part of their nature.
"Well then, I'll meet you again mister...."
He paused unsurely, before the sudden realisation dawned upon him.
"Oh! Forgive me sir, what's your name? I was in such a rush and I got so ahead of myself I didn't bother asking."
Lafayette smirked. Wrong move. He cleared his throat, clearly articulating the syllables.
"Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette."
Alex seemed to falter at once, the joyful smile wiped off his face instantaneously. "O-Oh... okay... erm.. Marie..?"
"My friends know me as Lafayette." He said, offering Alex a hand so that he could get up. He took it gratefully.
"I don't imagine anyone could try memorising the whole thing."
"Challenge accepted." Alex told him, before he went on towards the exit. "I'll have your whole name memorised before you can say my own."
"I'll be looking forward to hearing that." Lafayette mused, as Alex flashed him a quick grin and left, rushing down the street. He left in such a hurry that he didn't even properly close the door, and Lafayette shut it for him. When Lafayette walked back to the area he was working in, he noticed a little black elastic hair band lying there. Picking it up, he inspected it. Definitely wasn't his, it was way too stretched out to be any use for Lafayette. Plus he only had the real good qualiy ones, which led to only one viable option.
"Alexander Hamilton." he whispered to himself, before cracking up a smile.
A name that would soon be engraved into his mind.