Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I woke up staring into the bathroom mirror. In the darkness, my face looked unrecognizable. My heart was pounding in my chest. My arms shook from the cold. I wrapped them around my bare chest, still locking eyes with the man staring back at me. His eyes were wide, brows furrowed slightly. I darted them as I scanned his face in the darkness. I saw his lips quiver. I brought my hand up to them. Maybe hoping they would stop. I looked up into his eyes again. Oh, that poor man’s eyes. 

“Hon?”

I turned to the doorway. “Nessa,” I sighed, allowing my posture to slacken and relax.

“You look cold, what’s the matter?” She put her glass of water on the counter, and took off her oversized tee-shirt and gave it to me to put on.

“I just . . . I don’t know,” I said, putting the shirt on. 

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Uh . . . no, not really. I feel . . . a bit nauseous to be honest.”

“Oh . . . I’m sorry. Maybe it’s just nerves . . . from performing.”

“Nah, previews are going well, I don’t think it would be that. And in the middle of the night?” I sighed. I felt unsteady on my feet, and braced myself on the counter.

Vanessa set a hand on my shoulder. “Maybe you should sit down. I’ll go get a thermometer, see if you’re sick, how’s that sound?”

“Sure . . . sure,” I replied, and sat down on the closed toilet lid. Vanessa went and got a thermometer.

“Here we are,” she said, handing it to me. I took it and set it in my mouth and waited. Vanessa placed a kiss on my forehead. “You . . . do feel a little hot.”

I let out a grumble as I waited for the thermometer to do its thing. Gosh I hope I don’t have to miss a performance.

After a moment, the thermometer let out a beep. Vanessa took it out and took a moment to read it in the darkness. “Ninety-eight point nine. Not too bad. Let me know if you feel worse, okay? And we can take it again in the morning.”

“Yeah . . . yeah.” But how did I even get into the bathroom? I don’t sleepwalk . . . right?

She picked up her water and drank the rest.

“You . . . get up ‘cuz of Sebs?” I asked.

“Oh, no, I was just thirsty. But no doubt he’ll get us up later. I’ll let you sleep though, since you’re feeling under the weather.”

“Thanks,” I sighed. But somehow I didn’t just feel under the weather. I felt as if I had to look in the mirror again. As if that frightened man I’d seen in it wasn’t me at all.

“Here, I’ll go put away my glass and we can go back to bed. Maybe you can try to get some sleep, huh?”

“Mhm.”

She left the room. I stood again, and turned to the mirror, expecting to see that glimpse of a bewildered, broken man. What I saw though, was just me. Just as normal as I’d always looked. Just the same dork who’d somehow landed a wife so out of my league I still sometimes wondered what sort of miracle brought us together. 

“Ah, you’re up again,” she said.

“Yeah,” I turned to see her standing in the doorway.

“I suspect I’m not getting the shirt back,” she said in jest.

“I mean, it was my shirt before it was yours.”

“Okay, well . . . if I get cold . . . I won’t be grabbing another.”

“Okay,” I said stupidly, as if I hadn’t heard what she said.

I heard her quite audibly smile, a little exhale alongside it. “Let’s get you to bed, hon.”

“Yeah . . . I mean, yeah.”

“If you’re still sick in the morning, I’ll call Javi to sub for you, and you can go right back to sleep, alright?”

I nodded, and followed her slowly into the bedroom. I still wasn’t feeling very well. And I couldn’t get the image out of my head, how scared I’d looked. Like my face had been so distorted by emotion that it had become someone else’s.

“Could you turn on the light?” I asked when we got into the room.

“Um, sure, why?”

“I just . . . I want you to tell me if my face looks . . . odd. Because when I saw it in the mirror, I-”

“Honey, your brain just doesn’t know how to process the features when it’s so dark. It’s going to look odd, and you’re not feeling well-”

“I don’t . . . need the explanation, I just want you to look, okay? So will you do that for me?”

“Okay,” she said “I’m turning on a light now.” She turned on her bedside lamp. I stared at her from across the bed. “It’s just you,” she said. But then her head tilted just slightly to the right, that telltale quizzical look furrowing her brows. I knew it all too well.

“What? What is it?”

“Your eyes . . . .” She approached me on my side of the bed. Got up close. “It’s gone now.”

“What’s gone now?”

“That look in your eyes.”

“Nessa, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just looking at you . . . normally. Like how I look at you every day.”

“That’s not . . . how you usually look at me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your eyes were cold.”

“Cold?”

“Yes, they were . . . shrewd. And I’ve seen it before, that look, but I . . . . Listen, I never brought it up because you never seemed to notice, but now you’re talking about your-your face, and it brought it to my attention again, you picked it up so long ago I almost find myself forgetting.” She tucked her hair nervously behind her ear.

“What are you talking about? What look? Picked up from where?”

“The Hamilton look. That sharp, judgy, cold look that . . . flits across your eyes. Across Hamilton’s . . . when you’re acting. But you’ve been doing it . . . even at home with me occasionally. You’ll look at me with those cold eyes like they’re your own.”

“Does it upset you? I just sort of pick up things, I’m sorry, I can try to stop if you want,” I said, noticing the way her eyes kept flitting away from me.

“No, no, it’s been years, I . . . I’m sorry I pointed it out, but . . . you just . . . drew attention to it and I- I’m sorry. If it stresses you, we don’t need to talk about it ever again.”

“Okay,” I said, and I sat down on the bed. She got into bed, and I followed suit. She turned out the light.

“I hope you feel . . . better in the morning,” she said. “I’m sorry you got . . . freaked out about the mirror. That can be pretty disorienting, especially since you’ve got a bit of a fever.”

“I said I don’t want an explanation.”

“. . . ‘Kay then. Goodnight, hon.”

“Hey.”

“Hmm?” she inquired, even though she knew what was coming.

“You love me.”

“Hell yeah I do,” she said, and cuddled closer, spooning me, embracing me.

I reached my hands up to hers, and found her left hand, then her ring finger. I set my fingers on her rings and gently rotated them back and forth. It was a sign, that she was here, that I was here, that everything would be just fine. With it I let out a sigh of relief. 

It was quiet save for our breath, and the vague rumble of the late evening New York City traffic. Or was it early morning? I let out a contented sigh. Whatever it was, it was home. And I wanted to stay there. Forever.

For Ever.

Chapter Text

I walked down the hall of the theater, my mind elsewhere, as I curled my hair around my index finger, watching it as it twirled. Behind my hair, I caught a glimpse of someone else walking along, seemingly engulfed in their thoughts as well, staring down and fiddling with their hands. But by the time I saw them it was far too late to react, and we bumped into one another. 

I brushed the hair out of my face, looking back at them. Ah, Lin. “Oh, sorry about that Lin, I didn’t see you there,” I said. I expected him to say something back like, “Oh, it’s alright Pippa,” or, “Yeah, see ya later,” but no, he just stood there staring at me. 

“Uh, I guess I’ll see you later then,” I said, starting to walk away from him. Hmm, he’s acting weird. I wonder what’s up with him today. 

But my escape was cut short and so were my thoughts, as Lin grabbed me by a hand and tugged me back to him, settling his other hand against the small of my back. I gasped for breath, surprised by his sudden leap into action. 

“Uh, what are you doing?” I questioned, smiling nervously. I struggled a bit against his grip, and he backed off, slowly letting his hands fall from me. I took a small step away from him, breath heavy, brows creased in confusion. “What are you- what are you doing?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light. 

“You can’t expect to just walk away without getting some affection,” he said. And with that, he took my right hand free, bent down, and gave it a gentle kiss. “See,” he said, “not that bad.” He tried to flash me a charming smile, but I just looked back at him in concern. Is this some kind of prank? Some kind of joke? Just friendly banter? No, but . . . the way he touched my back . . .

“Is this some kind of prank?” I questioned. 

“No,” Lin said, as he grabbed me again, and turned us around so that his back was to his dressing room door. He reached his hand over to the knob, and we fell inward. He kicked the door shut, pinned down by me. I looked at him, and saw blush spread across his face. Oh God.

“Lin . . . what is this then?” I said. 

“This,” he replied, and with that, he pulled me closer and kissed me. I tried to break my lips away from his, but he was relentless. I gasped for breath, pulling away. “Lin,” I said, but he pulled me back. I fought myself free from him again. “Lin,” I pleaded. He wasn’t listening. He continued to kiss me, wrapping his arms around me, enclosing me in his world. I couldn’t break free. I was helpless.

“What’s- what’s wrong with you?” I managed to blurt out. He backed off for a second. I could finally breathe. 

“Nothing,” he replied. I looked back at him in disbelief. There was definitely something wrong with him. There had to be. Because why was he acting like this? This wasn’t him.

“Then,” I asked, “why the hell are you doing this? You just-you just-”

“Because I . . . love you. Dear, why are you acting so appalled?” 

I felt my throat tighten. I couldn’t speak. He looked so earnest. No hint of a smile on his lips, no glint of mirth in his eyes. He was being completely serious.

“What?” I breathed. I felt my eyes begin to sting.

“Darling, please,” he reached a hand out to me. I took it and stood up fast, tears beginning to fall from my eyes. What on earth is happening? He-He just kissed me. He assaulted me.

I went and sat on the couch, looking at him through watery eyes as he sat there on the floor. He looked concerned. Like maybe it hadn’t been done to be malicious. But then why? I sniffled, wiping my eyes, but I couldn’t stop myself from crying. He has to be hurt. Something’s wrong with him. Why would he act like this?

He got up, and sat next to me, but I refused to look at him now. He gently set his left hand in my right, and, feeling his fingers against my own, I realized with a start that he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring. 

“Wh-where’s your wedding ring?” I asked, picking my head up to look at him. We didn’t have a show for another hour or so. Had he taken it off already?

“Our wedding is next week, silly. I couldn’t possibly wear it yet,” he said, a look of longing in his eyes. He smiled at me, a genuine smile too.

“What do you mean? Lin, what are you talking about?”

He brushed some hair out of my face. “You are acting quite discontented Betsey. Are you feeling alright, dearest?” he asked. Betsey. “What is the matter?” He said.

“Nothing,” I replied, despite my obvious tears. I felt so overwhelmed, but everything was beginning to make sense. He thought he was Hamilton for some reason. He thought I was Eliza. Why? I wasn’t sure. But I was sure of one thing. I had to ease his worries. I heard him sigh. I sighed back. “I just,” I said, “Just got the pre-wedding nerves. I just don’t want to lose you Alexander. Ever.” I swallowed hard, hoping this would work. Hoping this would make something better.

He understood. “I promise as long as you live Betsey, you never will.”

We sat there, his hand gently in mine. After a moment, he shook his head. He blinked a few times in succession and took his hand away from mine. Lin came back, leaving the emotions of Alexander behind him. He shot me a concerned glance and I stood up, my back facing him.

I hid my face from him, wiping the remains of my tears on my sleeve.

“Pippa, I don’t remember us being in here . . . . Where’s my wedding ring?” he asked, looking around frantically. He didn’t remember.

“You asked me to help you find it,” I said, helping him up. “You just got tired and . . . took a nap.”

“Oh,” he replied. “I guess that makes sense.” 

I sighed out of relief, glad he believed my fabricated excuse.

We looked around his dressing room for a while before he found the ring in his back pocket. He took it out laughing, and slipped it over his finger.

“Silly me,” he said, “I don’t recall putting it there.” He looked up at me. “But hey, thanks anyways Pippa!”

“Yeah, no problem!” I responded, as I closed his door and stood out in the hall. I thought back on what he had said to me. What he had done. The whole situation began to make a bit more sense when I thought about it through Eliza’s eyes. It was only Alexander trying to show his fiancée some kind hearted affection, and being truly concerned at her rejections. But the interaction was also tinged with a haunting sort of sadness. Because at the end of it all, Alexander had promised Eliza that she would never lose him, when she surely would, in more ways than one. 

In theory I felt bad for Alexander, making him worry about his dearest, but I felt worse about the fact that I knew something was wrong with Lin, and the fact that I was too scared to tell anyone about it.

Chapter Text

I walked through the theater, trying in part to clear my mind, in part to rid myself of boredom. I walked across the stage absentmindedly, looking out at the seats that later would hold thousands of people eager to see us all perform. As I glanced about the stage, my eyes wandered to the staircase, moving up it and towards the balcony. There, I spotted Lin. 

He seemed lost in his thoughts, as per usual, but his face also wore an expression of frustration. I wonder what’s troubling him. Maybe I should go see what’s up. I ascended the staircase, stopping next to Lin. I leaned against the railing and looked over at him. He didn’t take any notice to my entrance, so I spoke to him to get his attention. 

“Lin, is there something on your mind? You know I’m here if you wanna talk.”

Alerted to my presence, he immediately backed away from me, and stopped leaning on the railing, standing up tall. Well, that was unexpected. I stood up straighter, matching his posture. 

“Uh, Lin, is everything okay?”

“Sir,” he swallowed thickly, “I did not mean what I said. Truly, I didn’t,” he mumbled, looking down at his shoes. He seemed to think he had done something wrong.

“Lin, why are you speaking so . . . weird? I don’t . . . I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Your excellency, have you not hurt me enough? Call me by my name.”

“Lin, I-” Your excellency? Washington? Ahh, method acting. Not something I’d expect from Lin, but I’d be damned if he wasn’t doing excellent. I suppose I should play along. Yeah, I can do this. I know Washington. This will be fun. “Alexander, I apologize, but, what is it that I have done to hurt you?”

“You know what!” He turned his back on me. “Everything! I was away for two damn minutes! Two minutes!” He huffed and crossed his arms. “And to be frank I did not realize you were waiting for me at the top of the stairs. I figured you had retired to your office. I did not mean any disrespect by it, I was only speaking with the Marquis.”

The stair incident. Their falling out. But this was an alternate scenario. Hamilton apologizing. It was clear the next course of action to take to conclude the scene and the tension between the two men. Lin was doing a very good job hiding Hamilton’s true intentions. But I knew what they were. Washington would too. Maybe it would be a bit premature, but we were flipping the script on the events already.

“Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton, I will not deny my . . . upset . . . at this situation. But you are a dear friend and of great value to me. And to the other men here. I . . . appreciate you talking this through with me. Especially here, at the top of these stairs. I do not expect a formal apology, I understand how you must feel. And I would like to offer you . . . something of value . . . perhaps.”

Lin turned on his heel slowly, facing me again. “Your excellency?” He breathed. He rocked on the balls of his feet slightly, like he couldn’t hold in the anticipation.

“I would so dislike for us to part. Will you stay . . . if I am to offer you a command? Your own troops, to lead.”

He smiled eagerly. “Yes, your excellency. I would be very grateful for it.”

I smiled back at him. “Very good, sir.”

His smile faded as he came out of character.

“That was a fun exercise, Lin. We should do that more. Maybe include Leslie, I know he’s into that sort of stuff.”

“What?”

“You know how he really gets in Burr’s head.”

“Chris, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the method acting improv thing we just did, it was fun!”

“Chris, what thing are you talking about?”

“We-we just did it. Literally just now.”

Lin set his face in his hand, taking a second to think. “I was lost in thought. Then you just suddenly appear here, telling me about some improv thing. What the hell is going on?”

“You- . . . you . . . don’t recall . . . any of what just happened?”

“No . . .”

What the hell is happening? Did he seriously just think he was Hamilton? And now he doesn’t remember? Just . . . like that? What if . . . what if there’s something wrong with him? I should tell him what happened. Yeah. I’ll just tell him. Right?

“Here, come sit down with me on the stairs and I’ll . . . tell you what happened.”

“Uh, okay,” he said, following me to where we sat at the top of the staircase. He was clearly confused about the whole thing, and I felt like it was my duty to inform him. I was starting to feel uneasy about it all. 

“Lin,” I started, “this might be a little weird to you, but I thought we were doing an improv exercise, because you were acting like Hamilton. But now you don’t remember and I don’t know what to think about that.”

“What do you mean? Like I was reciting my lines or something while I was zoning out? I guess I wouldn’t have noticed that ,” Lin replied. He didn’t realize what the problem was, and I could tell he wasn’t ready to deal with the truth.

“No,” I confessed, “you weren’t just reciting your lines, Lin. I think you . . . might have actually thought you were Hamilton.”

“What do you mean, I was just method acting.” Lin smiled and flipped his hair over his shoulder. Clearly he wasn’t taking any of this seriously.

“But you don’t . . . remember. It’s like it happened subconsciously, your characterization was spot on, it’s like, I don’t know, like Hamilton was fucking possessing you!”

Lin stifled a laugh. “Dude, I’m just that good, you don’t have to be jealous!”

“Stop lying to me, bruh. I know when you’re lying to me.”

Lin let out a sigh. “Chris, it’s not a problem, okay? It’s an isolated incident.” He said, clearly still lying.

“ Lin .”

“Okay, okay, I might have some similar gaps in my memory, but they’re kinda scattered. What’s the big deal?”

I stood up. “I’m telling Lac.”

“No!” Lin stood up. “Dude, don’t tell Lac, for the love of God, don’t tell anyone! You’re going to start some crazy rumor that I’m like, hella possessed or something!” 

“Bruh, I’m not going to say the possession part. Just the whole . . . I don’t know the whole weird acting like Hamilton, loss of memory thing.”

“So the possession thing?”

“No!” I griped. “Listen, we should tell the others. They have the right to know if this has happened with other cast members. We don’t know what’s going on. Any one of us could be next, I mean- dude, what if this happens on stage!?” I was seriously concerned. I wasn’t sure what sort of impact this could have. I didn’t know how others would react to it.

“Chris, you need to chill,” Lin said, “This whole Hamilton thing is kind of taking over all of our lives right now. It’s not a big deal. You don’t need to tell anyone. It’s not a problem.”

 I couldn’t agree with what he said. This was a problem. I didn’t know what it could possibly lead to, but I had this gut feeling that it couldn’t be good. Especially for Lin. This was his own conscience that was at stake. 

“Okay, fine,” I responded, “I won’t tell, okay? I promise.” But I knew that wasn’t the truth. There was no way I was gonna let this slide.

“Thanks,” Lin said, letting out a sigh of relief as he started down the stairs. I watched him as he left. I felt guilty knowing I would deceive him. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, but this was for his own good. 

I proceeded to inform the cast of Lin’s behavior, only stating that he was acting odd. I didn’t feel that it was my place to let them in on it completely. I just wanted them to simply keep tabs on what was happening. Not necessarily to report back, but just to keep it in mind and be aware of him. I knew we would all have to figure this out eventually, whether Lin was in, or not.

Chapter Text

It was a day like any other at the Richard Rogers Theater. Well . . . if you could call it that. I had heard some rumors about Lin, how he had been acting odd towards other cast members, but I hadn't experienced anything out of the ordinary, so so far I was clear of the confusion. I still questioned what was happening though, and the theater had an air of uneasiness about it. 

As I walked down the hall though, I paid no mind to the unusual events as of late. My arms swung to the beat of my music, which came pouring from the earbud that was in my left ear. My curly brown locks threatened to knock it from its perch there, as my music transported me to a different world. As I hummed along however, I heard a sound that was out of place. 

I took my earbud out, bringing me back into reality. The sound of someone crying reached my ears, and I creased my brows in confusion. Why was someone crying? And not only that . . . but who was it?

I paused my music and glanced around me. Fellow cast members’ dressing rooms lined the hall, but I was closest to Lin’s. I decided to give it a chance, and I leaned in, pressing my ear against the door. Yeah . . . it was Lin who was crying. I should’ve known, considering how odd he had been acting, or so Chris had said. I wasn’t really sure what to do, so I just stood there for a moment, lost in thought.

If Lin has been acting odd, shouldn’t I investigate? But, it’s not my business to be snooping around wondering about Lin. However, he is my friend, so shouldn’t I go in and comfort him? Or, maybe the door is closed for a reason Anthony, don’t be so stupid.

I honed in once again to the sound of his crying. He was still at it, and his sobs came almost endlessly, only pausing for him to take in a sharp breath every once in a while. He sure did sound like he was truly upset about something. I should go try and cheer him up. So, I hesitantly knocked on the door a couple times. No response from Lin. I rolled my eyes, sighing softly. If Lin really is in this much distress, and he isn’t responding to the knocking, I should be a good friend and just let myself in. Yeah, I’ll just see if he wants someone to talk with. So, I let myself in.

I opened the door slowly and closed it softly behind me, trying not to startle him with my sudden entrance. I glanced around his room for a moment, before I spotted him sitting cross legged on the floor. I found this a bit odd, but I walked up to him, and as I did, I saw that he was crying over a sheet of paper. It was blank, but peppered with his tears.  

“Hey Lin?” I said.

But I received no response. No confirmation that he had heard.

I reached my hand towards his shoulder, placing it softly on his hoodie. “Hey Lin, it’s me . . . Anthony . . .” I said, and I was about to ask why he was crying when I saw his face. As I had talked, he had slowly turned his head towards me, and our eyes locked. He looked horrible. 

His hair hung in clumps around his face, wet from his tears and tangled in mats as if he had been pulling at it. His face was sunken, and dark bags hung under his eyes. His brows were furrowed with concern, and his bottom lip trembled with emotion. But worst of all were his eyes, irritated and pink and sparkling with tears that fell across his flushed cheeks. I almost couldn’t stand to look at him. Why is he like this? What could have provoked such sorrow so suddenly?

“Lin . . . what’s wrong?” I asked, unsure of exactly what to do. He just stared up at me, and then suddenly looked as if he had realized something. I creased my brows, confused by his sudden change in mood. He must be having one of his weird episodes, he was probably having one even before I entered. Fuck.

I sat down next to him, and he reached out a hand towards my face. I recoiled, becoming even more confused. What is going on? Should I even be here? Do I go get Chris? He glanced down at the paper, looking defeated.

“Uh . . . what’s up with that paper?” I questioned, hoping I could figure this out on my own. Hoping I was crazy for thinking there was anything truly the matter with him. 

Finally, he spoke.

“It says,” he sniffled, “that you have passed away.”

“Lin, don’t be crazy, I’m right here,” I stated, gesturing back towards myself with my hands. He didn’t respond, glancing away from me. “Look, Lin, I’m right here,” I repeated earnestly, hoping to get to him somehow. He looked up at me then, at first a bit confused, then with a hopeful glint in his eyes. 

“But why must you always be scared of us?” He whispered, wiping some of his tears away. “Why are you afraid of me?” I wasn’t sure what he was saying, what he was talking about. He seemed delusional, but he had a purpose to his speech. It was clear, yet I seemed so oblivious to what he meant by it. 

“Lin-,” I started.

“Why do you keep calling me Lin? Why does everyone keep calling me that?” he responded, sniffling and looking at me, concern painted across his features. I was taken aback, and I scooted away from him a bit. 

“Well, that’s your name . . .” I stated. It seemed so obvious to me, but he didn’t understand.

“Laurens, you know very well what my name is. And it definitely is not Lin,” he replied, a small laugh breaking through his sorrow. I felt my brows crease, my breath catch in my throat. Does Lin think . . . I’m Laurens? Does he thinks he’s-

“Oh shi-,” I was cut off, as Lin quickly leaned towards me, pressing his lips against mine. I wanted to scream, but I couldn't, and even if I did, I didn’t think I would want anyone to respond. I pulled away, but Lin pulled me back into a tight embrace. 

“I apologize, John. I only-” he shuddered. “I only missed you with every fraction of my being, dear. You have no idea . . . how much I needed that,” he said, his tears of sadness turning into tears of joy. We sat for a while, him crying softly, running his hand through my curls. I wanted to squirm, to get up and leave, to slap him even, but I knew that if he really did think he was Alexander, that it would be incredibly wrong of me to react in such a way. Because no matter what was happening, these emotions were real. And he needed to let them out somehow. And perhaps this would be a way for Lin to return back to his normal self, by ridding himself of these foreign emotions. By concluding whatever it was that needed to be concluded.

As I sat there, I felt his hand stop stroking me. I bolted up, and looked down at Lin. He looked around at his surroundings groggily, reaching out with his hand. I pulled him up and he stood in front of me, bewildered.

“Why was I on the floor, and when did you get here?” He said. Good, he doesn’t remember a thing. 

“Well,” I replied, scratching the back of my neck nervously, “You don’t want to know, okay?”

He gave me a quizzical look, his eyebrows arched up on his forehead. I shrugged. “Really, you don’t need to know,” I said, and I walked back to his dressing room door. I took a glance at him before I left, and he was just standing there, a shocked expression on his face, probably wondering what had happened. Having no idea he’d kissed me.

I slipped back through the door and into the hall, taking a deep breath. Finally, it was over, and Lin didn’t remember a thing. I was content in the thought that only I knew about what had just conspired. Because it felt incredibly wrong to tell anyone. To out him. To out Hamilton. Or maybe both of them. Because I wasn’t sure who had really kissed me. Or who had kissed Laurens for that matter. Some curious man I recognized as parts that didn’t make a whole. Who really was he?

Chapter Text

Lin was acting weird, or so Chris said. So naturally, I couldn’t help but wonder what was up. It had been a few weeks since he told me, and nothing odd had even happened yet.

I wonder what’s wrong with Lin. I feel a little bad, but I really wanna know. I mean, what could it possibly be? What would cause such concern? It’s not like anyone else has said anything about it besides Chris. It’s probably not even that big of a deal .

I wanted to let Lin know that I didn’t think it was a big deal. I was willing to bet that everyone else was nervous as hell. If everyone’s so worried about him, I don’t think that will help him feel better. We just need to act as we have been. We just need to be his friends.

So, I decided to give Lin a cookie. It would be a simple gesture, but I didn’t want him to think that we were scared of him. I had seen how a few of the other cast members had been giving him weird looks. It was probably stressing him out. Plus, I really wanted to know what was up. Maybe I would find out if I confronted him. 

Walking up to his dressing room door, I let out a few knocks. He didn’t answer. Well, I guess I’ll just try him later. I was about to walk away, but he opened the door, looking up at me. He narrowed his eyes.

“Oh,” he said, “I was expecting someone else.” He had a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Uh, sorry to disturb you Lin, I just was gonna give you this.” Hesitantly, I handed the cookie out like an offering. I felt odd in his presence. He sure did seem a bit off from his usual self. I smiled sheepishly, hoping that he would relax once he knew my intentions were good. 

My hope was short-lived. He inspected the cookie carefully. “What is the meaning of this?” he asked.

“I just wanted to let you know I . . . care about you . . .”

“That is not likely,” He said. And with that, he proceeded to slap the back of my hand, causing the cookie to flip up and over my head, landing with a thud on the floor behind me.

“Hey, that was a perfectly good cookie! I could’ve eaten that!” Defeated, I turned around to pick it up and throw it away, but Lin grabbed me by arm, dragging me back into his dressing room. 

“You are scheming something, are you not?!” He closed the door behind us, and I turned around to face him, standing tall. He paced back and forth, his hands held together behind his back.

“No, I was just trying to be a good friend,” I replied.

Lin stopped his pacing, and looked over at me. “Right. Us, friends. As if.” He rolled his eyes. 

I began to see what Chris was talking about. How does Lin not remember we’re friends? How is it that he doesn’t know about his own life? 

  “What do you mean by that? Why are you so worked up all of a sudden?” I questioned.

He stepped up closer to me, clenching his fists. “As if you don’t know,” he snarled. “Whatever cruel trick you are playing, it is not going to work.”

“It’s not a trick,” I replied. 

He started getting more and more heated. I could see his face getting redder as he stared me down. “Not . . . a trick?” He scoffed. “If you think I will ever soften up to you then you must be the most naive man on this whole planet! I knew you were stupid, I just didn’t realize that you were stupid enough to think that I would fall for this! I would never agree with you, even if we were friends!”

Lin was so angry. I was sure I’d never seen him this angry before. I didn’t know how to respond without aggravating him even more, but I thought I should at least try.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because you are, well, you. You disagree with everything I say,” He said. “It is practically tradition at this point.” 

“Like what?” I had no idea what we had possibly disagreed on.

“Well,” he began, “first off the day we met, you immediately insisted that I was very wrong in my belief that Julius Caesar was the greatest man to ever live, and you proceeded to insist it was merely my opinion, which it most certainly is not, it is a fact.” 

“Uh . . . ” I replied, trailing off. A flip seemed to switch in my brain, and I realized that Lin was sounding a lot like . . . Hamilton. Talking to . . . Jefferson. “Listen, I . . . I think there is something seriously wrong with you, and I want to help, but I don’t know exactly what’s going on,” I stated. I had to talk some sense into him somehow.

“Really?” he asked, “You stoop so low as to think that I’m inferior to you simply because you cannot fathom the fact that I am in actuality far superior in every way? How bold of you. Do you really think that you’ll ever beat me though? My reasoning and wit can overthrow your passions any day.”

“You don’t have to beat me though,” I said, “if I am not against you.” I was feeling more confused and anxious by the second, trying to bring back the Lin I knew.

“Oh but you are. Do you not see you have spoiled your pathetic trick? You said there was something wrong with me. That is not a good way to make friends,” Lin replied.

“But we’re already friends,” I said. I found myself getting quieter with each comeback. Our arguing was pointless. He would never understand.

“No, we are not,” He said, through clenched teeth. “When will you get it through your thick skull that I will never agree with you? I guess never, because you think that you can outwit me. Me, of all people,” he said, throwing his arms up and gesturing to himself. “And I have beaten you so many times, always, yet you continue to make pointless comebacks, which I continuously prove wrong. Why?”

I just stood there. I wanted this to end, but no matter what I said, he would always counter. It was no use to try and convince him that I was in the right. 

A creaking came from the door behind me. We whipped our heads to the doorway, where Oak was standing. Lin was fuming, and I could imagine his face getting far redder as Oak began to speak.

“Uh, I heard you guys arguing, is there anything I can do to help?” I nodded fast, eager for him to shut Lin up. Whatever was wrong with him, I clearly couldn’t stop it. Maybe Oak could.

Lin walked past, glaring at me, then at Oak, who had begun stepping into the threshold. He shoved him back and out the door, slamming it behind him. 

“Why did you have to bring Madison into this?” He said.

“Madison . . . ?” I whispered. And I realized with a start that I was right. I knew now what that challenge in his eyes was, why he had been so convincing with his words. He was Hamilton. Or rather he thought so. And it seemed that Jefferson had just pushed him past his breaking point.

 I felt water being splashed onto my face. Sputtering, I looked up to see a very concerned looking Lin staring down at me. “Are you okay?” he questioned. 

“Not really,” I replied. My jaw ached as I said it, and a dull headache pounded in my temples. 

“I . . . am so sorry,” he said. 

“Eh,” I replied. I sat up slowly, and he braced me with his arm. 

“Truly I am,” he said, “I-I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately.”

“But what happened?” I said.

“Well, it appears that I punched you pretty hard in the jaw.” He recoiled a bit as he said it.

“I guess it’s okay,” I said, “Hamilton finally got a swing at ol’ Jefferson huh?”

Lin let out a little chuckle, but I could see the guilt in his eyes. 

“It’s okay though,” I said, “You clearly couldn’t control what you were doing. I just need to put some ice on it.”

Slowly, I stood, a bit dizzy. He supported me until I got to the door, opening it for me. “I’m fine from here, really.” 

“Whatever you say,” He replied, a little unsure. He shut the door behind me, and I felt a bit bad for not letting him console me longer, but it was hard to see him in the same light. Lin had just socked me in the jaw on account of him believing he was Hamilton. That I was Jefferson. What the hell kind of mental gymnastics had allowed that?

Once in the hall, I saw Oak standing next to the door. “Sorry bruh,” he said.

“Nah,” I replied, “Madison would’ve done the same. It’s okay. I know we're all still friends . . . sort of. Friends who punch each other I guess. I know you know what just went down though, so has that happened to you at all?”

“No, that was the first time I’ve seen anything,” Oak replied. “Do you think it’s related in any way to what Chris told us?”

“Yes, I’m sure it is.”

“Whatever it is, whatever is happening, I’m glad Lin doesn’t seem to remember.”

“Why is that? Wouldn’t that just make him ignorant of the truth?”

“The truth?” Oak questioned.

“I don’t know, man,” I sighed. “Shit’s crazy.”

“Yeah . . .” he trailed off. “Why is there a cookie on the floor?”

Chapter Text

I walked to the stage, preparing to go through my blockings. Hoping to clear my head and stop worrying about all the mysterious going’s on with Lin. But when I got to the wings I saw Lin on stage, sitting at the bottom of the staircase. He was writing away on a piece of notebook paper with a ballpoint pen. Scribbling down each word with frantic movements, he finished his writing quickly. He folded the paper neatly and slowly, so that each crease was perfect, setting it next to him on the bottom step.

Walking onto the stage, I could see his hair hanging loose by his face as he looked at the paper. I wonder what he was writing. If this has anything to do with what Chris told me, I should probably ask him just to make sure everything’s alright. 

He sat there looking at the paper as I walked across the stage towards him. Hesitantly, he stood up, gripping the side of the staircase for support, but not taking his eyes off of his paper that sat there on the stair, unmoved. I was almost to him, and I took each step slowly, so as to not startle him. His gaze was fixated on the paper, and he didn’t acknowledge my presence.

“Lin?” I asked, but he didn’t respond.

So I put my hand to his shoulder, giving it a light tap. His head tilted up to face me. It looked like he had been crying. He sniffled, wiping his eyes. He was looking in my direction, but not at me. It was as if he was looking through me. 

I didn’t know what to do. He was just staring. “Uh,” I started, “what were you writing?”

He just stared, looking determined. He sniffled again, finally wiping his eyes free of tears. He stood up straighter, and his eyes held a look of longing . . . and bravery. He looked away, and walked slowly past me, and to the center of the stage, each step echoing in the eerie silence.

Following, I asked, “Lin, what are you doing?” Once again, he gave no response. He stopped in the center, and I caught up to him. 

“Lin,” I said, “can you hear me?” I faced him, wanting to see if he reacted. He didn’t. His mind was elsewhere, in a far away place, where the real world had no effect on it. I couldn’t do anything to convince him to reason with me. All I could do was watch. 

He swiveled so that his back was to me, his hair swaying behind him. He stood there, looking at the ground for a while before he started walking away from me, lifting his head as he mumbled words which I could not make out. 

What is he doing? Should I follow him? No. It’s no use. He won’t listen to me. I suppose I should wait here and see if he comes back. It looks like he’s going to the staircase though. Is he going to the paper? No. Why is he lifting his arm like that?

“Wait!!”

 The word echoed across the threshold. I held my right arm out in front of me as I said it, in a motion that might have suggested Lin to stop, if he had looked. But he didn’t have time. 

 By the time he had fallen, I was too late. It had taken me too long to realize what he was doing, and I knew that that sound would be forever echoing in the back of my mind. The sound of his head hitting the stairs. 

 I ran over to him fast. “SOMEONE CALL 911! LIN’S HURT!!” 

“I’m on it!” Chris called from his dressing room, and he began dialing.

I knelt next to Lin, my mind racing. He’s breathing. Good. If I can just put pressure on the wound…. Ugh, my shirt won’t tear. Nevermind. I pulled it over my head, setting it around his, putting my hand under it to support his head, holding it above the rest of his body so it wouldn’t bleed so much, but it had already bled a lot. There was a pool of it on the floor, and it was warm on my hand, seeping through my shirt.  

“What happened to him?” Chris called.

“His head,” I replied, “he hit his head on the stairs!” I was trying to stay calm, but I felt like I couldn’t do much more to help. Once again, all I could do was wait.

“Is he bleeding?”

“Yes,” I breathed, “I’m putting pressure on the wound as we speak.” My hands began to shake under him.

“Is he breathing?”

“Yes, but he’s unconscious,” I replied, exasperated. I was getting impatient. This wasn’t good.

I listened as Chris told the operator what they needed to know, and he told me that the ambulance was coming. The operator stayed on the phone with him until it came.

I looked down at Lin. We were both breathing hard, and I could see now that he acknowledged my presence above him.

“He’s conscious!” I yelled up at Chris.

“Burr,” Lin whispered.

“Shh, I know,” I said.

“I forgive you.”

Hamilton was never going to shoot, and no matter what, Burr was always going to be the villain. It pained me to realize that I couldn’t have done anything. But this was what Chris had warned me of. It must have happened to others too. This was why the others had been giving him weird looks. He was . . . Hamilton. Or . . . he thought so.

And now-.

Now-

I didn’t want him to die. I felt like it was all my fault, but I knew that it would’ve likely conspired even if I hadn’t been here. He had already been writing the letter. Already resigned to his death. So why am I here? Why was anyone there when any of these things happened? Is it our duty to tell Lin what’s happening? And if so, am I too late? 

If everything went the way I thought it would, Lin would be dead by tomorrow. What would everyone think? Would I become the villain? Would I be to blame for his death? Who would tell Lin’s story? If anyone did, would they tell it truthfully? What would become of his legacy? 

I pushed his hair back from his face, and watched his steady breathing. He wasn’t dead yet, but I prepared for him to be. My mind was reeling, and I began to feel my eyes sting. I heard the sirens cut through the silence. I sighed. The paramedics arrived, picked him up, carried him away, and he was gone. 

I got up, holding my shirt, soaked with his blood. I couldn’t keep myself from crying. I tried to wash the blood out in the bathroom, but it was useless. Like the stains on my shirt, the ones on my soul would never leave.

I walked back to the stairs, stopping by my dressing room and pulling on a clean shirt before grabbing some cleaning supplies. I sat where he had been, setting the shirt next to me. I began to clean off the floor, scrubbing it forcefully with the washcloth I had found. Chris came too, helping me to clean up my mess. I was ashamed.

“What’s that?” Chris said, and he pointed to the paper on the stair next to me beside the shirt.

“Oh,” I said, sniffling, “Lin wrote that before he fell.” I wanted to say “before the duel”, but then I would have to explain. I wasn’t willing to explain.

“I wonder what it says,” He replied. 

I picked it up, looking at the other side. “It’s not addressed for us though,” I said.

“Well, who’s it for?” Chris asked.

“It’s . . . it’s for Eliza.”

Chapter Text

They had said I hit my head by accident. I believed them. 

It was a couple days since I was out of the hospital, my head mended with stitches and staples. I was a bit groggy, and I felt bad for missing out on performances, but I was sure Javi did great. I was glad to be back, and my first performance back would be tomorrow. 

I couldn’t just rest though. I had a meeting to go to. I didn’t know what it was, but Chris said it was important, and to be held on the stage. I thought this odd, but I didn’t mind. The stage was big, and much better than being cooped up in a room, as I had been for the past couple days. 

Walking to the stage, I saw a group of people all sitting in a circle. It was only a select few of the cast, and I wondered why. Even so, I went to sit with them. I felt a bit uneasy, as they all watched me as I approached. Phillipa and Leslie scooted to the side to let me sit between them, and the meeting had begun, whatever it was. 

“So Lin,” Chris said, “I brought us here because each of us has a story to tell.” He gestured around the circle. “I told the cast to look out for you after what happened between us, but I didn’t explain everything. These are the people who, while you were in the hospital, confessed to me that they had an odd experience, some more reluctantly than others. I thought that it would only be right to give our full stories to you once you recovered. Leslie thinks that it is time we confess what has been happening, and I agree. This has gone on for quite some time Lin.”

I was shocked, and mad at what he said. Chris had promised he wouldn’t tell. Now all of these people were going to tell me their stories. Stories of what I had done to them. I already knew part of Daveed’s and all of Chris’s, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to face the truth. There is something wrong with me, and they all know. 

“We will tell our stories in the order of when they occurred,” Chris explained. “Pippa first.”

She was smiling, but it was the kind of smile you use to hide something. She took a deep breath before she began.

“So, you crashed into me in the hall. I said sorry, but you didn’t respond. I began to leave, but you pulled me back.” I noticed she was looking at the ground as she spoke.

“You had me against your dressing room door, and I was confused. Then you kissed my hand, looking up at me, and I asked you if it was a joke. You said it wasn’t. You made a maneuver, so that we fell into your dressing room, and you kicked the door shut. I landed on top of you. I asked you what ‘this’ was, and that’s when you kissed me.”

A silence fell over the circle as Phillipa gathered her thoughts. None of us knew what to say, or even what to think.

“You were relentless, but eventually I asked you what was wrong with you. You said nothing was wrong, so I asked you why you were doing what you were doing. You said it was because you loved me.”

Once again a silence fell. I felt horrible. What had I done?

She continued, her voice getting quieter as she spoke. “I started crying, and left to sit on the couch. You sat next to me, holding my hand. You weren’t wearing your wedding ring. I asked you why. You said our wedding wasn’t until ‘next week’. I didn’t know what to think, I was so confused and then-. You asked me what was wrong. You called me Betsey. I realized the truth, that you believed you were Hamilton, and that I was your wife, and I was so relieved. It hadn’t been you at all. I told you that I was just afraid to lose you, after I realized you were Alexander. You promised I would never lose you. We hugged. Then you turned back to normal. We found your wedding ring, and I told you you’d taken a nap.”

I stared at the ground. So that was what had happened that afternoon. I was horrified, and scared. What will Vanessa think? How will I ever tell her? What the hell is wrong with me?

We all sat for a while, and soaked up the information, waiting for Chris’s turn as he waited respectively.

“So,” he began. “Lin already knows what happened, so I’ll try to make this short. He thought I was Washington. He was going to ask me for a command, and by then I had already realized what was happening, so I gave it to him. Then he became normal, and I told him what happened. That he had been acting like Hamilton, and didn’t recall it. I told him then that this would only lead to disaster, but he didn’t listen to me.”

There wasn’t much of a response. But the silence was so piercing. Fuck. Chris is so pissed. And now everyone in the cast knows we have drama. Shit, this isn’t good.

I quickly looked at Anthony, awaiting his story. Anything to get my mind off of Chris’s anger. Hmm, these seem to be chronologically arranged. But Anthony could be John or Philip at this point. He stared at the ground, and didn’t speak. Chris nudged him. “Go on, we all agreed.” Anthony wasn’t having it. He sat unmoving. 

I spoke up for the first time since the meeting began. “Whatever it is, we’re here for you Anthony.”

He looked up at me for a second, and then, taking in a deep breath, said, “I want to tell you, Lin. I really do. I want to help you with this. But it just isn’t my story to tell, man. It’s not.”

“ . . . what do you mean?” I asked.

“It wouldn’t be right for me to tell someone else’s story. It isn’t my place.”

“Look around, Anthony,” Chris said, “we’re all telling these stories that aren’t our own. It’s okay. These people we’re talking about, they’re not here, they’re long gone.”

“And we’re here to help Lin,” Leslie said. “It’s that simple. And these things he’s experienced are important. If you feel like Lin should know what’s happened you have the right to tell him. With us. Or alone. Or . . . you don’t have to at all. This is hard. It is. For all of us.”

Anthony nodded to Leslie, then turned to glance at Pippa. He bit his lip, his brows furrowing as he caught her eye. But whatever he was trying to communicate, she didn’t respond. He took another deep breath.

“I’m going to tell this story, as it happened to me. But it isn’t mine to tell, and I know that. But the information stored within it seems important, for Lin to get a full picture of what has been happening. And I want to preface this by just clarifying that . . . whatever is or was happening is, or was, out of Lin’s control and . . . and . . . .” Anthony sighed and furrowed his brows a second, shaking his head. “Sorry, lost my train of thought. I’ll-I’ll begin.

“I was walking down the hall, when I heard you crying in your dressing room. I thought about what Chris said, and I figured I should go in and help you feel better. So, I let myself in, and you were sitting on the floor crying over a blank paper. After a while of trying to talk to you and failing miserably, I asked you what the paper was. You said that it said that I was dead. I reminded you that I was right there. And you realized this. And . . . when we were talking you said something. Something I’ll never forget. You said, ‘Why do you keep calling me Lin?’ You asked me, ‘Why does everyone keep calling me that?’”

I felt my eyes sting. There were tears building. Tears I didn’t understand.

“And something about that just . . . it hit me like a truck, man. I mean . . . we all call you that constantly and I-. . . . but I did tell you that was your name. And then you told me I knew your name. That it wasn’t Lin. You called me Laurens.”

There was a pause. A deep, dramatic, telling pause. Anthony sighed, gathering his thoughts.

“I am going to tell this exactly as it happened. Alexander Hamilton kissed a man he thought was John Laurens. And it wasn’t just a peck, I mean this man pulled me in close like his life depended on it and kissed me damn hard before I pulled away. And even then, he pulled me close, and cried every tear out of his body and told me ‘I needed that’.”

My eyes were on the floor. “You mean . . .” I breathed. “You mean Hamilton loved him?”

“That’s absurd Lin, that doesn’t prove anything,” Chris said. “This is all just in your head, this has nothing to do with-” But Leslie shushed him, cutting him off.

Anthony sighed. “It isn’t my story. I don’t know. I don’t know what you were thinking in that moment. There’s no way to know for sure. But you did kiss me . . . or . . . Hamilton did. And he was convinced I was Laurens.”

“Hamilton loved him,” I said. And somehow I felt so certain. So afraid. What did any of this mean for me? For me and Vanessa?

I sighed, shaking my head. The whole circle took a second to mentally regroup. I didn’t know if Hamilton loved Laurens. So why had I acted like that was so certain?

Soon, Daveed began his story. “Well, Lin also knows some of mine, so I’ll try to make this one short. He thought I was Jefferson, and we quickly got into an argument. It escalated, and then he punched me. It was almost funny though, cause ya know, Hamilton kinda got to punch ol’ Jefferson in the jaw.”

The circle giggled a bit to humor him, but we had all begun to realize that this whole situation had gotten out of hand. I had seriously hurt people. I had assaulted these people who I loved. And why? For some kind of delusional daydream brought about by my artistic obsession with a Founding Father? The whole situation was absurd.

I looked to my left. Leslie. I knew what was coming. He was the last person to tell his story. And there was only one person he could be. Burr.

“You were on the stage writing,” he began, “so I went up to investigate. You finished your writing, but you just stood, staring at the paper. I thought it must have to do with what Chris had said, so I tried to get your attention. You looked in my direction, but not at me. Lin, you looked through me. You were so out of it. You walked to the center of the stage, and I followed, asking you what you were doing. You didn’t reply, even when I asked if you had heard me. I just stood there Lin, I didn’t know what to do, and I watched as you turned and made your paces. I could’ve done something. I should’ve done something. Anything. But you’d fallen and it was too late and-.” He cut himself off with a shudder.

“It wasn’t your fault Leslie,” I said. “And besides, I’m still here. We’re all here. We can figure this out.”

Leslie nodded, but then reached in his back pocket. “I almost forgot,” he said, “This is what you were writing, I thought Pippa should read it.” 

She looked at Leslie quizzically, taking the paper. She looked at the front. She gasped, looking at me from her spot beside me. “You addressed it to Eliza.”

I felt something stir inside of me as she opened it up. I was nervous. I knew what it was. It can’t be- can it? I don’t have it memorized, I only know parts of it. It can’t possibly be-. I breathed deeply as I listened to her recite the letter. 

“This letter, my very dear Eliza, will not be delivered to you, unless I shall first have terminated my earthly career; to begin, as I humbly hope from redeeming grace and divine mercy, a happy immortality.

“If it had been possible for me to have avoided the interview, my love for you and my precious children would have been alone a decisive motive. But it was not possible, without sacrifices which would have rendered me unworthy of your esteem. I need not tell you of the pangs I feel, from the idea of quitting you and exposing you to the anguish which I know you would feel. Nor could I dwell on the topic lest it should unman me.

“The consolations of Religion, my beloved, can alone support you; and these you have a right to enjoy. Fly to the bosom of your God and be comforted. With my last idea; I shall cherish the sweet hope of meeting you in a better world.

“Adieu best of wives and best of Women. Embrace all my darling Children for me.

“Ever yours

“A H” 

My heart shuddered. I had written it, word for word, but how? How had I, in some kind of frantic daze, written it out so exactly? And only moments before my confrontation with Leslie. What were the chances?

Pippa was attempting to stifle her cries. None of us could believe it, but then it got worse. “Lin, I think you need to see this,” she said. Then she turned the paper towards me so I could see. That handwriting. It wasn’t mine.

“But,” I stuttered, “That’s not-that’s not possible. That can’t be right. Leslie, are you sure I wrote this? You’re positive that I . . . I was writing this.”

“Yeah, I’m positive,” he replied. 

“But,” I replied, “Hamilton wrote this.”

Everyone’s eyes were on me, then they looked at each other. No one knew what was happening. Pippa gently set the paper in the circle so they could see it. The writing was slanted and looping and fast. Not my messy, awkward printing.

“Don’t you see that’s his handwriting?!” I asked. “Don’t you see this must mean something?! This writing is his! I- I know it is . . .” I could feel myself growing anxious. My heart was pounding in my chest as I looked frantically at my fellow cast mates. What the hell is happening to me? There’s something wrong with me.

“Well, the writing certainly isn’t yours,” Daveed offered. The circle nodded in agreement.

“I-I agree.” Chris said. “And I’m sorry if I-”

“Sorry?! You promised not to tell . . . anyone, Chris!”

“I’m sure he was only looking out for you, Lin. For all of us. Whatever is going on is . . . unprecedented,” Leslie said.

“I was only trying to protect you,” Chris replied.

I shook my head, feeling my eyes sting as tears threatened to form. I snatched the paper and left them to sit in the confusion without me, struck by something new that seemed impossible and scary and different. They had no idea what they had gotten me into by showing me these things. And neither did I.

Chapter Text

In my dressing room, I tried to find a spot to hide the letter. It pained me. I didn’t know how it was even possible that I had known all the words, let alone how I had written it in his handwriting. 

Despite the fact that I’d had my dressing room to myself for a while, I hadn’t expanded beyond where my things had been before Groff had left to another room. Come to think of it, that had happened soon after I had first talked with Chris about the whole thing. Now it made sense. Of course Groff had been relocated. He probably would be the single worst person for me to have been in a room with during all of this. Hamilton would have been absolutely unhinged.

There was a drawer on Groff’s side that was tucked up in the closet. That was perfect. Why would I ever look there? It was the perfect place to hide the letter.

However, when I opened it I saw sheets upon sheets of paper crammed into it. Oh no. I pulled one out of the middle, sticking my finger there to save its spot. Of course. It, like the one I already held, was one of Hamilton’s writings, and it was also in that same neat, loopy writing that was Hamilton’s and only Hamilton’s. I put it back into the pile. I sighed, putting the one I held at the top of the pile. I wondered where else I had stashed my writing. That couldn’t be all of it, surely.

I walked over to the couch. I needed to think this through. Now that I know what has really been happening, maybe I can make some sense of this. I was acting like Hamilton, through different stages of his life, writing all of his writings, and thinking that I was him. I have somehow been able to copy all of his writings word for word, and I’ve acted as him free of my own will. Is it possible for all of this to happen just because I know so much about him? Just because I pretend to be him? Just because I’ve been obsessed with him for almost ten years? No, that’s not enough. The things that I have done, they are out of my control. I would never have done those things on my own accord. Only Hamilton could’ve done those things. 

I put my head in my hands, trying to relax. I have to think this through. But isn’t that what I just did? I sighed out of frustration, wishing there were some clear answers. But none of this made any sense. I got up, and left my dressing room, closing the door behind me. Leaving the theater, I took the subway home. It was early, but I already felt drained. I needed my rest before my performance the next day. I needed to find out what was wrong with me. I had to. 

A part of me wanted to tell Vanessa. A part of me wanted to break into tears and beg her to take me to a psychiatric hospital. But then I would have to explain to her, and I barely even knew how to explain it to myself. So instead I simply faked a smile for her, bidding her and Sebastian an early goodnight as I slipped into bed, pulling the covers over me. I huddled under them, lost in my rambling thoughts. Hamilton is literally taking over my life. Why aren’t the others reacting similarly though? Shouldn’t Jasmine think she’s Peggy, or Groff think he’s King George the Third? I guess I just got in way over my head, but it still makes no sense. Because I wrote all those letters. And unless I secretly have a photographic memory, that didn’t come from me. So surely this isn’t just in my head. Surely there’s some kind of explanation and I’m not just going crazy. Right? I’m not crazy.

I found myself awake in the middle of the night, crying. Or more accurately, Vanessa noticed, and woke me up, but I couldn’t stop. “Lin,” she whispered. She shook my shoulder a bit, concerned. 

“Wha-what?” I stuttered.

“Why are you crying?”

“I-I don’t know,” I replied.

“Well, whatever it is, you don’t need to worry. Everything’s fine hon,” she said. 

I couldn’t agree more, at least for the moment. But then a sound like hell rang in my ears, followed by a streak of lighting crackling across the dark sky, for just a moment illuminating the room in startling white. The wind howled and torrents of rain barraged the windows. The tears ran down my face faster now. I hugged Vanessa hard and sobbed into her shoulder. I was frightened. No, I was terrified. The noise that had scared me in my sleep now continued on, the wind and the rain blowing heavy against the windows. The apartment walls would blow away and there would be nothing to shield us from this monstrosity. It would tear us apart. I wanted to hide. I threw the covers over us, cowering under them. This couldn’t happen. Not again. 

“Lin,” she whispered, “What’s wrong? It’s just a little storm.”

I pulled away. I looked at her in the darkness, my eyes still watery, my heart pounding. 

“The hurricane,” I said.

“The hurricane?” She repeated. 

“Yes. The one that hit St. Croix when Alexander was seventeen.”

“W-What about it?”

“I remember it.”

“Hon, are you sure you’re alright?” She brought her hand up under the covers to stroke my cheek. I felt her hand brush against my forehead briefly, as she checked my temperature.

“Yeah. I just-I just realized something. That’s all.”

But Vanessa was curious as always. “What do you mean, Lin? What’s going on?” She set her hand against the side of my face again.

“I-I’ve done things Nessa, that I couldn’t explain earlier today, but now I . . . I think I know the truth.”

“The truth about what, hon?” 

“About me.” And I reached out my hand too, to stroke her face.

“What about you?” she asked, her voice strained.

I took a moment to listen to the rain tapping on the roof, and the thunder in the distance made me shudder. But her hand against my face grounded me, and I stroked my thumb across her cheek, reminding myself that she was there. I felt a single tear roll down my cheek, and it hit her hand, warm and full of hurtful truth. 

 “I used to be someone.”

“What do you mean by that? Lin, you’re talking nonsense.”

“I mean I was someone before I was Lin.”

“Honey you’re scaring me,” she said. “And you’re crying too.” She stroked under my eyes, wiping my tears away as my hand kept caressing her face. Then she reached over and hugged me. My hand was taken from her face, and hers from mine, but we wrapped our arms around each other, and became encased in warmth and love, held in each other's embrace. With my head over her shoulder I heard her whisper to me. “Whatever you need to get off of your chest, get it off now. I’m here for you.”

I took a deep breath, shuddering a bit as the rain grew louder. “Nessa . . . I said I remembered the hurricane because I was there. In my past life. I was Alexander Hamilton.”

She didn’t respond. I felt my heart slowly sinking in my chest. It seemed like minutes, and then another lightning strike hit. I jumped in response, and found myself uncontrollably crying into her shoulder once again. She continued to hold me, but kept quiet. We both cried ourselves to sleep.

Chapter Text

I awoke. The bed still smelled like her shampoo. It was nice, until I realized that she wasn’t there. Panicking, I threw the sheets off, and ran down the hall. Where is she? She couldn’t’ve left. Not so soon. Oh. 

She sat in the living room, eating with Sebastian. “Breakfast without me?” I asked, a little jokingly. I really scared myself over last night. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions so quickly.

“Lunch,” she replied. 

“Oh. Heh. Okay,” I said, scratching my head. “I’ll be right back.” I left and got myself clothed and ready for the day. When I returned, I patted Sebastian on the head gently, and pecked Vanessa on the cheek as I passed by, quickly washing my hands and grabbing some cereal. I sat across from Vanessa, munching away. I noticed the bags under her eyes.

“I guess we both lost some sleep over last night,” I said. She didn’t look at me.

I took another bite of cereal, looking up at her and Sebastian from my bowl. Sebastian smiled a small smile, but Vanessa continued to ignore me. There was an odd tension between us, and I didn’t enjoy it.

“Nessa, don’t you think we need to talk?” I questioned. She took her eyes off of Sebastian, glancing back at me.

“I suppose,” she replied, looking down at her plate. It was hard for her to look at me. “I just . . . none of this makes any sense. How did you even find out about this? I mean, there was that night with the mirror, but I-I thought I was just being silly to think that-that you-”

“You know . . . I thought we were being a little silly too. But . . . things have changed my mind. I know you don’t believe me completely. I hardly even believe it myself. But do you mind if I try to explain things?”

“No, go ahead.”

“Okay . . . well,” I said, looking at the table, “yesterday some of my fellow cast members said I had been acting strange, like I was acting like Hamilton and I thought they were their counterparts from the play. When I hurt my head, it was because I fell, thinking I had been killed when Leslie came to me while I was in a . . . uh Hamilton headspace, I guess you could call it. That was the last occurance of me acting like that though. I hadn’t really realized by then that anything was happening. But then, after it had gone that far, they all confessed what I had done. Leslie showed me a paper, one of Hamilton’s writings, word for word and in his handwriting on a sheet of notebook paper. He said I wrote it. I found more of them like that in my dressing room,” I barreled through the explanation at a hundred miles a minute, trying not to linger too much, trying to state facts to her without getting emotional, because that would only complicate it for her. And I needed her math and science brain to understand, without getting tripped up by biases or outliers.

She was quiet for a while, as she thought about it. “And then last night you had a fear of storms, like the hurricane,” she concluded. “It confirmed that he is a part of you, right?”

“Yeah,” I said, and I looked up at her. “Yeah, that’s right,” I smiled. She seemed to kind of get it. Maybe we could get through this after all. I finished off the remains of my cereal, and left to put my spoon and bowl in the dishwasher, when she asked me another question.

“Lin, you said they confessed what you had done. As in, they didn’t just tell you. They confessed . Do you mean to say that you did something wrong?” she asked. Hastily, I put my dishes in, and sat back down.

“Well, I did think Daveed was Jefferson, so I punched him in the face.”

She recoiled a bit. “Oh, he is alright though, right?”

“Yeah he laughed it off, no biggy.”

“That’s good,” she replied.

She’s expecting me to say more. She looks so accusing. Oh my gosh do I tell her? If I keep it from her she’s gonna find out somehow. I’d better tell her. But, I don’t want to ruin us. No. Just suck it up Lin. Don’t throw away your shot. You need to be honest with her. Go on.

“There’s something else though,” I began. She looked back at me. Her eyes looked a bit quizzical, but satisfied at the same time. She knew that hadn’t been the end of the story.  

“I-,” I cut myself off. How can I tell her? I don’t want to hurt her. But she has the right to know. I can’t keep secrets.

“Vanessa, I-I cheated on you.” I had never thought I would have to say that. It was sickening. I quickly buried my face in my hands, afraid to see her reaction.

“Lin . . . what are you talking about?” There was a lightness to her tone, like laughter. Denial.

“I cheated on you. With Pippa . . . and with Anthony.”

She was quiet for a while. She didn’t know what to say, and I didn’t blame her. But then, I heard her take in a deep breath, as she slowly processed the information and thought of what to say. “Okay, well . . . what happened? I, mean don’t tell me every detail, but- within the context of this conversation, I-”

“I don’t know, Vanessa. I don’t know. I don’t even remember it. All I know is what they told me.”

“What did they tell you?”

“Both of them, I kissed both of them. John had just died. And Betsey . . . we were about to get married.” I began crying into my hands. The memories. They were too much, and they were flooding in so suddenly. Every single one felt like the hurricane now.

“You still . . . love them, don’t you?”

“Yes, but I love you more.” I reached my hand out towards her, looking up to meet her eyes. She was crying, just as I was, but she didn’t look up at me. She didn’t even take my hand.

“You’d better go finish getting ready . . . your castmates are probably waiting for you.” 

“O-okay,” I said. Pushing my hand on the table, I got up, leaving her and Sebastian.

I walked into the bathroom, grabbing my toothbrush. I squeezed some toothpaste onto it, and started brushing. Why did I tell her? I don’t want her to have to go through with this. It’s hard enough with just me and the cast. I just had to drag her into this mess didn’t I? And now, she won’t even support me. I thought she would help me cope. Instead, now she probably hates me! Hell, I cheated on her, why wouldn’t she?

I finished brushing my teeth, rinsed my brush, and started to floss. I guess it does kind of make sense though. I mean, I am practically half a different person now. I threw the floss away and rinsed my mouth out. I’ll never be the man she married. I’ll never be Lin again. She knows it. That’s why she didn’t return my gesture when I held out my hand for her at the table; why she couldn’t look at me. 

That’s why she didn’t kiss me as I left. She couldn’t love another. She couldn’t love me.

Chapter Text

I arrived at the theater early, but I didn’t care. I could spend the afternoon coping with everything. After all, Vanessa probably didn’t want me at home. I had become a new burden to her.

In my dressing room I sat on the couch, thinking. I was Hamilton. Oh God. I was Hamilton. The memories. The whole afternoon they were all I could think of. A hurricane, a flaming ship, a wedding, a white flag, a funeral, and a bright morning on the Hudson. It was all there. As if it had always been there. Only now did I accept it, let it in. I let it pour over me and drown me in foreign feelings. What it was like to be in war, what it felt like to lose a son, and what it felt like knowing that you might never get to see your wife ever again. All the things that I thought I knew, that I pretended to know. They were my reality. It took me hours to sift through the memories, lining up all the events like phrases and placing this note there and that one here, until it all began to fit together. Maybe this word rhymed with that one. Or maybe it was just a slant rhyme. Maybe this part was fast. And that part was slow. And grace notes added subtly to the already complicated melodies. I was so engaged in my thoughts that I didn’t even realize that I had skipped dinner until I heard a knock at my door.

“Hey Lin, you there?” It took me a while to respond.

“Uh, ye-yeah.”

“Well, the show starts in an hour. I just wanted to let you know.”

“Yeah,” I said, “but could you come in here for a second Chris.” I had made up my mind. I had to tell him. And then he had to tell them. They had the right to know.

“Uh, sure,” he said entering the room, “Whaddaya want?” 

“I need to tell you something about what’s been going on, and I want you to tell the others.” 

“Uh, okay,” Chris replied, and he closed the door behind him.

“I figured out why all of this has been happening.” He gave me a quizzical look, his eyebrows arching up. “Last night, I was scared of the thunderstorm. I was terrified. It was because I remembered the hurricane. I was there on St. Croix when it happened. I was Hamilton. In a past life.” Once again he looked confused, even vaguely disappointed. Or maybe that was just concern. “Chris, I have all of his memories. They’re circulating through my brain and . . . I don’t know how I can handle this without you guys.” I looked at him hopefully.

“Wait, so . . . does Vanessa know?”

“Yes. Everything.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, that’s why I’m so early. She kind of lowkey asked me to stay here for the day. I’ve been here since one thirty.”

“Woah. I’m sorry,” he said and he patted me on the shoulder.

“Eh, I don’t blame ‘er. That’s what I get for throwing it on her all at once, but I couldn’t help it. Keeping secrets is not my forte.”

“Ah,” he replied, “I guess I’ll get the others in on that then. See ya’ later.”

“Uh-Okay.” And just like that he left.

I’ve ruined everything. Everyone acts so different once they get told who I am, but I chose to tell them. I chose to. I guess it’s the Hamilton in me. He always found a way to express his thoughts, make them known. I wish I didn’t have to go through all of this though. I wish none of us had to. If I just hadn’t picked up that damn biography!

A few cast members came in to greet me on my first day back. It was nice talking to those who didn’t know. After all, they were the only ones who would come see me. To those who now knew, I had become almost a complete stranger. An outcast.

It was only ten minutes til showtime. I started to get dressed, going through the motions. I had done it a million times, but it was different tonight. I had heard Leslie say that the best way to get rid of nerves before a show was to find a reason why your character was nervous. But it just made it worse for me. The mere thought that I was Hamilton stressed me out, caused my mind to spiral. Now I had to consciously act more like him. It would be easy once I got into it, of course, but I was scared. What if I do what I did before? In the middle of the show? Oh, that would be bad. I just have to focus on my lines though. I’ll be fine.

I heard Leslie call for the time. He was always late. The five minute call sounded, and I could imagine him scrambling to get into costume. This was just a normal performance. Just like the rest. I inhaled deeply, looking at myself in the mirror. Everything was set.

When the cast gathered to pray before the show, I noticed how there was a clear distinction between those who knew, and those who didn’t. While most looked at me cheerily, some looked sad, or worried. I knew I was in their thoughts as we stood in the circle. It made my stomach turn, but I just had to remember the audience. They don’t know anything is different. Nothing is different.

I was extremely anxious. I didn’t want anything to go wrong, but I could feel it in my gut. Something was going to go wrong. And whatever it was, I would be to blame.

The bright lights shone on my face, and I looked out into the audience. I said my name was Alexander Hamilton, and for the first time, I meant it. I found myself drowned in the sea of my past. Every moment seemed to pull me farther away from the audience. The lines kept speeding from my mouth, doing so with ease, but my mind wasn’t keeping track. 

Betsey had been so beautiful on our wedding day. And there she was, with those gorgeous dark eyes. I could barely believe it. I felt a warm smile spread across my face as I looked at her, and I wished I could speak to her, but all we could do was listen to the others singing. The show must go on.

When I sang about Philip my heart swelled with joy. I felt a tear stream down my face as I thought of his smile. He was the light in my life and I wanted him there. I wanted to go and find him and hold him and sing to my baby boy, but I could only sing to the audience. The show must go on.

Laurens had died unexpectedly. He was such a kindred spirit to me and I missed the way his blue eyes used to sparkle. But he was there. And Betsey spoke those words. And that lengthy pause that I normally met with silence was met with tears. I could barely stutter out the final line. The show must go on.

Intermission fled by fast, and I stayed in my void of solitude. It was nice to go to my dressing room and write down my thoughts. Then just like that, I was back on stage.

I didn’t know what I had gotten myself into. But, Betsey was gone. Maria was here. How could I say no? She was so beautiful, but then her husband arrived. I felt myself go into a state of panic, and when I screamed at her I felt my throat burn with anger. I wanted to tear her to bits, but I still had to say yes. The show must go on.

Philip was such a precious child, so when I saw him like that I wanted to comfort him. He had to stay alive. When he looked at me I felt like I would fall into pieces. No words could describe how much I loved him. And then Betsey appeared. His last moments with her were filled with song. All I could do was watch as he slipped away. I wailed when Betsey did. I overpowered her with grief. The show must go on.

 The grass was covered with morning dew as I stepped upon the grounds. It was near the spot where Philip had his duel. I held my gun steadily, the same one he had used. But my grip loosened as we made our paces. My hand shook as I held it high above me. Then I saw the bullet. It barreled towards me, but this time I had time. Time to struggle with words how I had never imagined I would. I was always good with words. But this time I wasn’t. They cracked and flowed unsteadily, like in a river filled with jagged rocks, where it is a struggle to get past each one. My tears filled the gaps of words unspoken and the ones I spoke, I spoke with conviction. With each line I felt my heart would burst. The show must go on.

I sat in my dressing room afterwards, writing away even more. I wouldn’t do anything with the writing, but I had to write it. I just had to. It was instinctual and I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help but to write my thoughts, lest they fill up my head and consume me.

“Lin! Lin, are you there?”

“Er, yeah.”

“Could we talk?”

“Uh, sure. Come on in.”

I turned around to face Leslie, hiding my pen and papers behind me. He closed the door and sat down on the couch.

“I’m sorry you had to go through this tonight. Maybe we could call Javi in for tomorrow.”

“Heh, yeah. It’s just hard to adjust, y’know. Well, you don’t know but, y’know,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “But, yeah. That would be . . . nice.”

“Cool,” he replied. And then he stood up. He hesitated, standing there for some time. But then he said, “I’m sorry. And I’m-I’m glad you told us.” With that, he gave me a hug. I returned it. 

“I just hope the others understand as much as you seem to,” I responded.

“They will. Just give them some time. I have just been thinking about it a lot, and tonight everything just came together for me. I know maybe not for you or the others, but I know that all of us will stand by you, Alex.”

“Leslie?”

“Sorry, just sorta . . . slipped out.”

“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Leslie. Thanks.” 

And with that he left. I put away my papers and pen, and allowed myself to head home.

Chapter Text

I opened the door with a creak and closed it behind me, and saw that the light at the end of the hall was on. I grabbed myself a cookie or two from the kitchen and headed back there, eating them as I went, and shoving the last one in my mouth as I entered. 

Vanessa sat on the bed, wearing her pj’s and brushing her still wet hair from her shower. I smiled at her, mouth full of cookie.

“Hehh,” I mumbled out. She looked up at me and rolled her eyes.

“Lin, you shouldn’t speak with your mouth full,” she scolded playfully, and I stood and chewed for a while. Once I finished the cookie I sat down on the bed next to her.

“Hey,” I said. “How’s Sebs?”

“Sound asleep,” She replied. I nodded, content.

“How was your day?” I asked, a little hesitantly.

“Well,” she said, “not as good as it could have been.” And she looked at me seriously. I put my head down, remembering what had conspired earlier that day.

“I- . . . you know I didn’t . . . mean to cheat on you.”

“ . . . I know. I’m just scared for you, Lin. I’ve been worried sick about you all day. I don’t want this to . . . change us. For lack of a better thing to say, hon, I don’t . . . want you to leave me.”

“I won’t Nessa, I promise. I’m right here.” And then I hugged her. She set her brush on the bed and returned the gesture. My eyes closed tight, and I managed a smile. Yet tears ran down my cheeks. I wasn’t really here. I would never truly be here. Alexander was here. 

“Lin, are you crying?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I sniffled.

“Why?”

“I don’t wanna lose myself either.”

We fell asleep in each others’ arms.

Chapter Text

I woke up and rubbed my eyes, my vision a bit blurred from sleep. But something else was different . . . . I got out of bed, trying not to disturb Vanessa, and I checked on Sebastian. He was still asleep. I had a full day to relax with him and Nessa. Finally we could have a day to just be together as a family. Finally a break from all the recent chaos.

I walked to the bathroom. I closed the door and was about to get down to business when I looked in the mirror.

It was me. It was him. Hamilton. Slowly I got closer to the mirror, examining myself. My hair was an auburn brown color, graying a bit at the sides. My skin pale, like I hadn’t seen sun in years. My body didn’t fit in my clothes the same way and my shirt was a bit snugger. Instead of my goatee, there was a scattering of thin peach fuzz across my chin and jaw. My browline was incredibly defined, the angles sharp. My nose was too. And the bridge was garish and crooked, the end pointed. It was definitely different from what I was used to. My eyes stood out the most though. No longer a dark brown, but a light violet blue which seemed to sparkle with intellect and hunger. Beneath my hooded lids they were cold, and shrewd.

All I could do was gawk at myself, and I wanted to squeal, but I didn’t want to wake Vanessa. How did this happen? Why did this happen? How is this even possible? I rotated around looking at myself from different angles. Clearly my left side at a three quarter view was the most flattering. Well, of course it was, I’d had most of my portraits painted at that angle. I smiled. Oh, that felt nice. I let out a sigh of relief. I could stare like this for hours. There was a feeling deep inside of me, that obnoxious self-absorbed entitlement that made me feel safe somehow. I made faces in the mirror, remembering the way I looked. Remembering the way this felt. With great effort I pulled myself away from the mirror. Then I sat myself down on the toilet lid. I needed to think.

This must be because of yesterday. I got too emotional. People accepted me. They accepted who I am. They understood. But, that doesn’t mean I can just live like this. After all, I have to perform tomorrow. I can’t ditch again. That’s just not right.  

I heard a knock at the door. Shit. “Lin, are you in there?”

I cleared my throat a bit. My voice came out rough and I couldn’t control it well. It felt so odd. “Y-yes,” I managed.

“Are you sick hon? Tobi was barking a lot when she noticed you were gone, she really seemed upset. And your voice sounds really strained.”

“Really? I-I’m sorry about Tobi,” I said. Hearing my voice coming out of my mouth felt surreal.

 “What is that weird accent you’re putting on?”

“Uh, what accent?” I said, trying to mask it as best I could. “I’m just not feeling like myself today,” I replied.

“So then you are sick. Lin, I’m coming in.”

“No, no, no! Nessa you don’t wanna see me like this!”

“Nonsense, Lin. At least let me take your temperature.” 

The door opened. I hid in my shirt.

“Why are you sitting like that?”

“I-uh, I was cold.”

“Then that could mean you have a fever. Honey please let me check your temperature.”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Lin. You’re not fine. Do you even hear yourself? Your voice is so raspy, and I don’t think it’s just because you’re under that shirt.” She paused for a bit. “What’s wrong with your hair?”

“Uh. Uh, nothing Nessa. It must be the lighting . . . perhaps.” I cringed as she touched my hair, lifting a few strands out of my ponytail into the light.

“Lin this is not the lighting,” she said accusingly.

“I know,” I replied.

“Then what is it?”

“This,” I mumbled, losing whatever failed attempt I was making at hiding my accent. And with that I pulled my shirt back down, revealing myself to her.

“Lin. Oh my God.” She backed away from me slowly. “You’re- You’re- You’re,” She said, pointing at me.

“Alexander Hamilton?” I replied. She nodded as she braced herself on the wall behind her and slid down into a sitting position.

We sat like that for a while. I looked at Nessa as she covered her face with her hands, peeking between the cracks to glance at me.

“Are you really . . . that afraid of me?” I asked.

She nodded. 

“Why?”

“Lin, I don’t know what to think anymore,” She cried, “You-you make promises you can’t keep and I don’t know how I’ll ever live without you, but you’re slipping away . . . and I-I-” She shuddered.

“Nessa, I swear I-I’m still here. You just need to . . . look closer,” I said.

“No. Lin, this isn’t you.” She took her hands away from her face now. I saw her brows pinched together in anger. “Listen to yourself. Please. Why are you denying this? Can’t you see it? You’re not Lin anymore.”

She breathed hard as she finished her questions. I shrugged my shoulders. I didn’t know what to say. She was certainly right. But I didn’t quite want to admit that.

“I know something happened last night. You didn’t mention your performance. You always tell me how it went. And then on your first night back you don’t mention a thing.”

“Nessa, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Just admit it . . . .”

I took a deep breath before I started, resting my head in my hands and looking past Vanessa. “The performance was probably one of the most emotional ones I’ve ever had. Every line hurt. I-I-” And then I began to cry. Uncontrollably my leg shook as I sat there, hands shaking and tears streaming relentlessly. 

“Shh . . . . Shh.” 

I couldn’t stop. The memories got the best of me every time. Every time they consumed my being and threatened to tear me apart.

Nessa put a hand to my face, now smooth and foreign. “Darling please. You-you know I can’t bear to see you like this.”

“I know. And I’m sorry. But the truth is I had no control who lived, who died, who told my story. I’m stuck here, but I . . . I love you, Nessa.”

I leaned in to kiss her, but she pushed back on me with her hands, shoving me off. I stared at her in disbelief. My wife. We had loved each other for years. We had a son together. And now she couldn’t find it in her heart to return a kiss. 

“Alexander, please.”

“But Nessa, I love you.”

“You love Eliza.”

“I love you.”

Then just like that she left, shutting the door in her wake.

Chapter Text

I was getting hungry. Hesitantly, I creaked open the bathroom door. Tobi was lying on the other side. She picked up her head and gazed up at me. Well, she wasn’t barking anymore. That was a start. “Hello, little one,” I said softly, reaching out a hand. She gave it a gentle sniff, then stood and licked at it gently, before moving away from the door and off down the hall, tail wagging. Not the warmest welcome, but not objectionable either. 

Making my way down the hall, I heard Vanessa. “Hi Tobi, you done guarding me from that strange man? He isn’t so scary after all, huh?” I entered the room to see Vanessa sitting at the table with Sebastian, Tobi circling her feet. It seemed they had just finished eating. Without me. Vanessa looked up, and saw me. “Oh. You’re up. I-I wasn’t sure if . . .” She trailed off, as I absentmindedly got myself a quick bowl of cereal. I began to walk back down the hall.

I heard Nessa clear her throat. “Please, come sit down. You shouldn’t close yourself off. I know I’m being a hypocrite, but-”

“Uh, very well,” I replied, and I sat down across from her, eating my cereal, which didn’t taste how I remembered it did. It wasn’t bad, just different.

We sat in silence as I ate. Not a single word was said. It was awkward to say the least, and I wanted to talk, but I knew she probably didn’t want me to. So I finished my cereal fast, and prepared to leave. She doesn’t really want me here. She’s simply trying to be courteous.

“You want to talk with me, don’t you?”

I nodded. Of course I did.

“Then I suppose I shouldn’t keep you from doing so. Just, please not for six hours.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“No,” she mumbled.

“Then I shouldn’t be a burden. I’ll leave you be.”

I got up, put my dishes in the washer, and started to walk away.

“Alexander, we-we need to talk. We shouldn’t avoid each other. And I know I’ll try to, so . . .”

I sat back down. “So . . . what do you want to hear?”

“I don’t know anymore. I mean, I can’t even accept that my husband loves me. My husband! Who is, for crying out loud, a 200 year old man who could never keep his trap shut!”

I flinched as she grew aggravated, and quickly shushed her, for Sebastian had fallen asleep. 

“Vanessa, relax.”

“But Lin. He’s gone, isn't he? Everything is changing, isn’t it?”

“No, he’s still in here somewhere,” I said, tapping my head. She was unamused. “But I do have all of his memories,” I added, wiggling my eyebrows.

“Don’t talk about him like that,” she said, despondent.

“Okay, I won’t. It is only that . . . you need to get used to me for the moment,” I continued, “at least until we figure out a way to get him back somehow.”

She sighed deeply, and put her head in her hands. I noticed her eyes were wet with tears, sparkling in the morning light.

“Oh God. No, no, no . . . . Nessa please. Please don’t cry.” But my words wouldn’t stop her feelings. “Shh . . . shh,” I whispered. 

Getting up, I placed my arms gently around her, leaning in and propping my head up on her shoulder. I whispered into her ear, “Nessa, what’s on your mind? Please tell me, why are you so bitter? It seems like you’re holding something back.”

 Her voice was very soft, as she spoke through a throat clenched with sorrow. “My husband is gone, and it’s all your fault.” The line struck a chord with me, and I hugged her even tighter. Nuzzled my face into the crook of her neck. Despite myself, my lips gently pressed against her skin.

Unsure of what I had done, she asked, “Why are you acting this way with me?”

“What way are you referring to?”

“Let go of me, please.”

I let go of her and stepped away.

“You are Lin’s Betsey,” I said. “Why else would he hang on? Why else would I love you? Lin isn’t gone, he’s right here.”

“Is he? So nothing’s really changed then.”

“I suppose so. You still have a husband . . . who loves you,” I said. But was any of it true?

She got up out of the chair and wiped her eyes. And when she turned around to face me, she set her hands in mine. 

“Nessa . . . what are you doing?”

“Just one kiss,” she said. “Just to evaluate.”

“Evaluate?”

“Just one little kiss. It’s just one small variable in one big long equation, I just need it to get to the answer.”

She leaned in and kissed me. I obliged, and as she set her hands against the back of my neck, I let mine rest on her back. I found myself wanting to move closer. Wanting to fill the gap between us. But I stopped myself. I just gently reciprocated, felt her lips against mine, wondering when she would stop. Then her hands started moving against my neck. Her lips searched mine further. I couldn’t help myself, and I pulled her into my arms. And I wanted to hold her like that forever. Feel her warmth and her love and her lips against mine for all of time. But she broke away. Gasped. Set her head over my shoulder and brought her arms around me. She let out a sigh. We stood there a moment, embracing each other, until she pulled herself away.

She stood there staring up at me. Her eyes wide. Her mouth just slightly open, breaths heaving. My breaths were heavy as well. Heavy and full and real and alive. Her eyes darted across my face like she was looking for something that just wasn’t there. So she gave up looking, and cast her eyes to the floor. But then they flicked back up to me. “I . . .” she started, but never finished.

“You . . . you already knew the answer to the equation . . . didn’t you?” I asked.

“The answer was infinity. So the variable was . . . also infinity.”

“Did I . . . pass your test?”

“If you would like to call it that, yes, you-you did,” she said. She sighed and fiddled with her hands a moment, twirling her wedding ring around her finger. “Now,” she suddenly got very serious again, “we need to find a way to help Lin.”

“Yes, of-of course,” I replied. We did need to figure out something. “If we could just swap around some things selectively. No, that could never work. We’re too intertwined. Hmm.” The words came out half heartedly. How could I think about leaving when all I could think about was that kiss? Such a wonderful kiss. I sat down at the table, and Nessa did the same.

I placed my head in my hand, unsure of what to do, and looked up at her. This wasn’t good. If anyone could fix this, it would be me. But I felt lost.

Nessa smiled at Sebastian, and then looked up at me, her eyes melancholy. “You died too soon.”

“Uh . . .” I managed. I squinted my eyes a bit at her, unsure of what she was getting at by reminding me.

“Alexander, you must be here to do something. Something you didn’t get to do when you were alive. You must have some kind of unfinished business to attend to, right?”

I hadn’t thought of that yet, but it made sense. I’d been too entranced with her to think very rationally. But she was right, I must have manifested here mentally and physically for a reason. Not just to be here, but to do something. Something not even Lin could do, and boy, had he done a lot.

“Okay, number one,” I started, “if I have unfinished business, it is with people who I can’t really speak to, or contact in any way, and number two, Betsey and Lin have already done the one thing I could have asked for. They helped my legacy live on, spreading it to people who otherwise probably wouldn’t give a shit about, ‘just that guy on the ten’, and before the musical they were even going to take me off! Of the currency! The currency! ‘Yeah, sure, let’s just take the guy who created our financial system off of the money.’ Great. Just great.”

“Okay . . .,” Nessa replied, “Let’s not get too worked up here. And besides, you still haven’t really answered my question. What unfinished business do you have?”

“Well, it isn’t really any use. It’s not like I can do anything about it.”

She looked down at the table, unsure of how to respond. It seemed like the both of us were lost in our thoughts.

If I can’t get Lin back by tomorrow, how do I perform? Sure, I know it all by heart, but I don’t look or sound the same in the slightest. And how can I possibly do anything to bring him back? He already did the one thing I wanted, so what else is there for me to do? I already did it subconsciously. So then why am I here now? I’m just being a haughty waste of space. We need to get Lin back. Ughh, I’m just going in circles. I need to relax, but I feel as if I mustn't. I’ve got to do something.

I let out a sigh, frustrated. Then Nessa spoke. “Alexander, maybe you . . . maybe you should get more sleep. We . . . both know you always need some.”

It was my time to leave her be. Neither of us knew what we were doing. We loved each other, but we were merely acquaintances. We needed to talk, but couldn’t find the words. Lin was with us, but he was hidden away somewhere. 

And a part of me feared we'd never find him again.

Chapter Text

I awoke from my nap, feeling relaxed and groggy. I glanced at the alarm clock that sat on the nightstand. It was five-o’clock. Damn, I guess I really needed some sleep. I rubbed my eyes, and swung my legs off the side of the bed. Stretching, I got up, went to the restroom, and came back to sit on the bed. I let my eyes close, still a bit drowsy. Man, today has gone by fast so far. I should try and make the most of the evening.

Getting off of the bed once more, I trudged my way to the living room, and plopped down on the couch. I let out a sigh. I heard a soft sound behind me. Vanessa began to speak. 

“Alexander, it’s nice to see you’re up. Hopefully you’re feeling better?” she asked.

“Not really,” I replied, “I mean, the sleep was good, but . . . the more I think about this whole thing, the more I realize that no matter what I do . . . it isn’t going to fix things.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nessa, I want to get Lin back. For you. For my sanity. But when he comes back, he’ll be . . . different. Hell, I’m already different, I speak as if I’m him and I kiss you and I- . . . . I don’t want to ruin him, Nessa. I already lived my life, but his life, it’s ruined because he knows. Because he knows that I’m here. Me knowing that he’s here doesn’t change my life, it already happened. But he knows I’m here, and that changes his. The both of us are at stake, but he carries precedence. We’re being torn apart by each other, I feel like we’re grappling for control. I-I don’t know what to do.”

She came down and sat next to me, and placed her hand gently on mine. She flashed me a small smile, trying to cover up her feelings.

“Alexander, I know we’re both worried, but, if we can’t do anything about the situation, at least for tonight, I think we’d better just relax. Take a break. Let it go. We just need to . . . look around and realize that this is how it is. And . . . this is how it could be . . . for the rest of our lives. And if that’s the case, if we can’t get him back then . . . .”

She took my left hand in her right, holding it gently. That ring which I wore was not the one which linked me to my Betsey, and the man who wore that ring was not her Lin. And yet still . . . we were together. And we were married . . . . And maybe . . . . Is she insinuating . . . we stay together? If Lin can’t return, we stay together?

She leaned her head on my shoulder. Readjusted her hand in mine. It sure seemed like it. And like she was too scared to admit it. “Nessa,” I breathed, “I love you.” 

“I-I thought so,” she whispered. She wrapped her arms around me, encasing me in a warm hug. I smiled a little, returning the gesture. 

“Let’s go make some dinner,” I said. “I’m getting hungry.” Easing the tension seemed like the best course of action.

“Oh,” she said, picking up her head and releasing me from her embrace, “what do you want?”

“Pasta would be nice. It’ll be pretty easy.”

“Then I suppose we should make some.” She got up, heading to the kitchen.

“Love,” I said with a smirk, finishing her sentence.

“What was that?”

Is she teasing me? Or did she really not hear me? “I said pasta, we should make some pasta.” I replied, playing it safe. 

“Well if you want some then get your lazy butt over here and help!”

“Hey! I’m not lazy! It’s just my day off! I practically got reborn today!” I got up, and followed her into the kitchen. She was giggling, grabbing the pasta and sauce from the cupboard. 

“Dear, would you grab some pans?”

“Yeah, sure. Are these good?”

“Yep,” she said. 

I filled the larger one with water, and placed it on the stove to boil, and the other I filled with sauce, and placed it beside the larger one to simmer. I grabbed the plates and silverware, setting the table while Vanessa stirred the sauce and kept an eye on the water now beginning to bubble in the larger pot. 

Coming up behind her, I placed my hand on hers as she stirred. I wrapped my other arm around her, giving her a little peck on the cheek. Her face flushed pink, and I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing in the soft aroma of the marinara. We stood for a while, stirring, and then she spoke.

“Oh, can you take over, I need to put the pasta in.”

“Sure,” I said, releasing her, and she grabbed another wooden spoon, put the pasta in the larger pot, and pushed it down into the water. She stood and stirred, and I did the same. I let out a breath. A slow, methodical sort of breath. This was almost more relaxing than I wanted to admit. It felt so right to be domestic with her. As if I were making up for all the times I’d been absent from my family before, closing myself off in my office to write when I should’ve been spending time with the people who mattered. I glanced over at her. She was staring intently at the boiling water and the pasta, biting her lip. Clearly this wasn’t as relaxing for her. “Do you want me to take over that, you seem a little stressed,” I said.

“It’s alright, I’m just . . . waiting for the proteins to denature,” she said, still very intently staring at the pasta.

“The what to . . . what, exactly?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay,” I sighed, turning my attention back to stirring the sauce, making sure it didn’t burn on the bottom. And I managed to do that for a few more seconds until my charm got the better of me. “You know you are . . . like, so smart, right?”

“That is a . . . big compliment coming from you.”

This made me do a double take. I’d really just called her smart, hadn’t I? “It is true though.”

“What, just because I said something you didn’t understand? Now I’m suddenly smart.” She smiled and shook her head a bit in disbelief. “Not like you have Lin’s memories or anything,” she whispered. I sighed, and turned the heat down under the sauce. I hadn’t meant to seem backhanded.

“Would you . . . like anything to drink?” I asked, hoping to ease her agitation.

“Uh,” she replied, “just a glass of water is fine.”

“Okay,” I said, and I got one for myself as well, and set them at our places. “You already fed Sebastian, right? And Tobi?” I inquired, as I went back to stirring the sauce.

“Yep,” She said, “just before you woke up actually.”

“Right, then I guess it’s just me and you for dinner.”

She nodded, straining the pasta and grabbing some serving utensils as well. I turned the heat off, and grabbed our plates from the table. Why had I set them there in the first place if we were serving in the kitchen? Perhaps I was a little scatterbrained. I’d often been that way when I fancied someone. We served ourselves, and sat down to eat. For the most part, we were consumed in our food and didn’t talk. I didn’t feel like Vanessa was interested in conversation. 

She just sat and looked at me. Every time I brought my eyes up, hers were staring intently back. Like the way she’d been looking at the pasta almost. Like she was waiting for something. I wasn’t sure what to do. She let out a small smile. So did I. We stared at each other, our plates soon ignored. My heart was fluttering. 

“Alexander, your eyes are so beautiful.”

“So are you.” 

Her dark, shimmering eyes. Betsey.

I stood up, and reached out a hand to her. She stood with me, and took it. 

“I-” She started.

“Shhh . . .”

I leaned closer, and she responded in suit, until once again, our lips had met. We kissed for the briefest of moments before she broke away, her hand sliding slowly from mine. I kept my eyes shut. Reveled in the moment for just a second. I was sure the tiniest smirk crossed my lips. We just kissed. Again. I let my eyes flutter back open. But she was gone. After looking around briefly, I saw she was sitting on the couch.

Sighing, I finished my meal, and put our dishes in the dishwasher. I grabbed my phone and headphones, making to settle myself down on the couch beside her. But when she saw me, she got up and left the room.

“Nessa?” I said. But she didn’t answer me.

And I didn’t go after her. I had already in my mind resolved to my next task in understanding this life. Listening to the very thing that had brought me here.

Chapter Text

I still sat on the couch, my eyes red and watery, my hands shaking. My throat was sore, and my heart was beating loudly in my chest. Hours had passed in what seemed like minutes, and I sat, feeling unable to speak or get up. I could have stayed like that forever, had Vanessa not seen me.

“Alexander?” Her voice was muffled. Although no sound came through them, I had still kept my headphones on. I slowly reached my shaking hands up, and took them off.

I turned my head up towards her, and watched as she put her hands in front of her mouth at the sight of me. She sat next to me, and laid her hand on my thigh. “Alexander, what’s wrong?”

I swallowed, preparing to speak, but my throat wouldn’t let me. Even if I could have found it in me to speak, I wouldn’t have been able to find the words. I stared as Vanessa’s eyes searched my face, and then glanced back at the headphones and Lin’s phone. “The musical . . . you listened to it, didn’t you?”

I nodded.

“That . . . must’ve been difficult,” she said.

I swallowed hard, and wiped my eyes. Vanessa let out a sigh. A pitying sort of sigh, and yet there was annoyance in it. A kind of, ‘Alexander, I should’ve known you would do this to yourself.’ 

I set my phone and headphones aside on the coffee table, taking another step to try and compose myself, when Vanessa scooted over, and embraced me. “You are very brave, Alexander, but I wish you wouldn’t hurt yourself like this.”

“You are very brave, Alexander.” Something about that phrase was . . . oddly familiar. But I let it go, and offered my reply.

“It’s alright, I . . . figured I would have to listen to it at some point. Seems right, you know?”

“Yeah . . .” she replied softly, releasing me from her hold. “I . . . um, have something for you,” she said, and left, walking off down the hallway.

She returned with a box in her hands, wrapped in paper. She sat beside me and handed it over. I set it in my lap. “What is this? You couldn’t possibly have had time to-”

“I was going to give it to Lin . . . but it never felt like the right time.”

I gently began to unwrap the gift. “A . . . quill and ink set?”

“Yeah . . .”

“Th-thank you, but-” I looked up at her. “Why would you get this for Lin? His printing is terrible.”

Vanessa let out a snort of laughter. “Alex!”

“Well, it is,” I said, taking the quill out of its casing in the box. I looked at it a moment.

“Do you like it?”

“It’s really sweet of you . . . to think of me, but,” I set the quill back, “I think I figured out something that might be able to save Lin. I-I don’t know why I opened this,” I fumbled, setting the box back on the table.

“What?”

“You can just . . . put this away in his office somewhere, okay? Re-gift it to him or something.”

“Alexander, I . . .” she trailed off.

“I can save him. I will, I promise.”

“How?”

And she listened patiently as, through a still strained voice, I told her of my plan. Reluctantly, she agreed, and we set off to bed, bracing ourselves for the long and hard day ahead of us.

Chapter Text

I ate my breakfast while Vanessa contacted all of my castmates, telling them to prepare a surprise party for Lin. We knew they would all come to welcome Lin back, even if it was a bit late. She smiled as she sat down. “They can all come. Oh, and I called my parents to come take care of Sebastian and Tobi. They’ll be here in about thirty minutes.” 

“Okay,” I breathed. I was extremely nervous. 

“Alexander, it’ll be fine.”

“Yeah . . . I hope so.”

“It’ll be fine,” she repeated. “You-you want to do this, right?”

“Yes, of course,” I replied. “Oh, wait! Did you call in Javi for tonight too? I don’t think Lin’s gonna be up for performing.”

“No, I’ll do that!” She quickly got up, and called him. They talked for a bit, and then she sat back down, sighing as she did so, and patting Sebastian lightly on the head.

“Thank God for Javi. He’s always there when you need ‘im.”

“Mmmm-Hmmm,” I hummed, my mouth full of eggs. Vanessa started on her food too, and fed Sebastian as she did so. 

As we ate, we remained quiet for the most part, aside from some light small talk. There was a nervous tension at the table, as there always seemed to be between us. It was only broken when Vanessa finished feeding herself and Sebastian, and looked at her watch.

“Alexander, my parents are gonna be here any minute. We can’t let them see you. Go out to the car like we planned.” She got up and grabbed the keys, handing them to me. “Here are the keys, and don’t you dare drive away.”

I shoved the last bite in my mouth and took the keys. “See ya in a few!” I stopped in my tracks, almost at the door. I ran over to Sebastian, and placed a small kiss upon his head. “Goodbye, son. Bye Tobi!” I yelled, not sure where she was. She ran up to me, tail wagging, and I gave her one last pet before I finally left.

I struggled a bit to let myself into the car, and sat in the passenger’s seat, my hood pulled up to hide my face. It was several minutes until Nessa came back. 

“Here’s the keys,” I said. She gave me a little smile before starting the car and driving to the theater. My hands gripped the armrests, and every movement felt exaggerated. Of course I had Lin’s memories of being in a car, but actually being there was way different, and way scarier. I silently thanked God Vanessa had talked me out of us taking the subway. That would have been a nightmare.

I was relieved as I stepped out of the car. “You have everything?” Nessa questioned.

“Phone, key, hoodie. Check, check, and check.”

“Cool. Now, let’s get in there. Everything is going to work out fine, okay? I promise.”

I smiled, and we approached the theater door. I let us in with the key, feeling a wave of warmth as we stepped inside. I felt Nessa gently take my hand, and we went to the stage, where she had told the cast to meet us.

“Surprise!” They all yelled in a joyous chorus as we entered. And then the collective gasp hit. Those who hadn’t known about the whole thing just looked plain bewildered, but those who had a clue looked at me with awe and curiosity. I saw many of their eyes find mine and Vanessa’s hands, perfectly entwined. And our wedding rings, a matching pair. They all whispered amongst themselves. 

I felt out of place. This didn’t feel right. Luckily, Nessa was the first of the two of us to break the silence.

“Everyone, as you may have realized, this wasn’t a surprise for Lin. It was for you. Some of you may know that Lin is Alexander Hamilton’s reincarnate. If not, I’m sorry this had to be brought upon you so unexpectedly, but we need all of you to help. Alexander and Lin are trapped in a way that makes their personalities merge, and their minds fight for dominance over an existence which will forever be, if this continues, an incompatible mix of the two.”

I looked down at my feet, feeling alienated. The words were true, I’d told them to her myself and yet now . . . something about them felt hurtful.

“However, we have a plan and you are all a part of it. Alexander believes that if he can become fully himself, that Lin, when he returns, will be the Lin that we have grown to know and love.”

I felt a tear run down my face. I almost regretted my decision to come to them. But they cared so much about Lin. I couldn’t let them down.

“So,” Nessa continued, “we have brought you all here for an early showing of Hamilton, to be performed for Lin. So that he can come back and be with us all once more. Alexander of course, in his starring role, so that he might return to what he left behind, and let Lin return.”

I looked out at the crowd. Most nodded in agreement, and some murmured a bit. I had no idea if this would work. It seemed like we were making promises we couldn’t keep. I saw Nessa glance at me, and I squeezed her hand. She squeezed mine in return, holding it, sustaining the soft, comforting pressure.

“But remember that this isn’t just for Lin,” she said. “It’s also for Alexander. I hope that you will embrace him wholeheartedly. Sure, he can be a bit stuck up and forward, but I’m sure you’ll learn just as I did to accept him.” 

She let go of my hand, and walked off to Chris, leaving me alone. After a while of talking to him she came back. “Hon, I told Chris to make sure to get you out the door when it’s all over. I’m gonna film, so I probably won’t see you until after.”

“Wait, Nessa. Stay with me please.”

“Okay.”

I took her hand again, and turned to my comrades. I wasn’t quite sure what to say. As of lately, I had found myself often at a loss for words. I cleared my throat. 

“I am feeling . . . a bit overwhelmed at the moment. I’m going to go up to my dressing room and I’ll be back down, at some point, I am sure. I apologize. I-I do want to talk with you all though.” And I made my way up the stairs to my dressing room, bringing Vanessa along with me.

I got in, and closed the door. Vanessa let out a light, nervous sort of laugh. “Why’d you bring me up here?”

“I . . . I don’t know. Maybe I just wanted to spend some time with you.”

“What time? Alexander, you- we don’t have any time. Don’t you understand we’ve run out? You’re going away. Where you belong. That isn’t with me, we both know that.”

“But what if we’re wrong? I’ve said before men seldom judge or determine right, and what if that’s the case? What if I do belong here? Then what happens?”

Vanessa sighed. “You don’t, Alexander.” But I could hear the hurt in her voice. She didn’t want to believe what she was saying.

“Then even though I’m leaving, I want Lin to know I was here. I . . . I know we’re filming the musical, but-” I glanced over to his costumes hanging in the closet, “I want to film videos for him. Of me, in costume. I want him to see me. And not just in the musical.”

“That . . . does sound like a fine idea. I’ll help you.”

“Lovely,” I smiled, taking out the first costume while Vanessa set up my phone.

“Maybe we should do an intro video. Like, before you get in costume.”

“Oh. Sure.”

“If I hold the phone like this you can see yourself, would that be better than this?” Vanessa, holding the phone, flipped it so that all I could see was the back of it.

“Wait, I wasn’t looking, do it the other way.” She flipped it back so the screen faced me. “Oh, that’s nice,” I smiled, seeing myself.

“You narcissist.”

“You know it.”

“Might be hard to film it like this though, from my end.”

“Well, just try your best and I’ll try to stay in frame. Yeah?”

“Alright.” 

Once we had finished filming the intro video, I started undressing, preparing to get into costume. I glanced over at Vanessa. She was sitting down on the couch now, looking away from me.

“You’re looking away?” I asked.

“Yes, you’re not my husband,” she said. But a hint of a smile seemed to brush her lips.

“Hey, I know you want to look, just let yourself, what’s the harm? If all goes as planned Lin isn’t going to remember any of this.”

“That isn’t any excuse for me to be like you, cheater.”

“Woah, okay. Yesterday you kissed me twice and you let me sleep in your bed, given, we had our backs to each other but- well, that’s only slightly irrelevant. And yet today you’re mad at me for expecting you to keep that affection? What happened to infinity?”

“You’re leaving now.”

“Pretend I’m not. Make up a reality in your mind that . . . that I’m staying for infinity.”

“I’m not one for romanticizing. I know that you’re leaving. And I know that it is the logical course of events that Lin will return in your place.”

I sighed. “Nessa, I understand that I am leaving. I just don’t want you to throw away some kind of shot with me that you’re never going to get again.”

“I just don’t understand why I have feelings for you,” she whispered.

“So you do, you admit it?”

“No,” she said. “No, of course not. I-I don’t know where that came from.”

I’d been getting dressed while we talked, and was almost done. “Well . . . then you will have absolutely no problem with turning around, and . . . helping me with my cravat.”

“Yes, of course.”

She came and helped to fasten it in the back. I put on my brown overcoat. I turned around to face her.

She smiled. Ran a hand through her dark hair, and her brown eyes were so glittery, and she was blushing. It felt like home. “You look gorgeous,” she said.

“You think so?”

“I suppose I do, I just said so,” she sighed. “I’m sorry, it’s just that your presence melts away all of my logic, and I . . . it’s like I can’t see past you.”

“Like you’re in love with me?”

“Very bold of you to assume that- . . . well . . . for all you know I-I didn’t mean those kinds of feelings. Maybe I meant I despise you,” she replied, crossing her arms.

“Oh, my dear, please don’t be this way. I know how you feel. I always do. I understand that as more . . . analytical people we are not . . . exactly easy with attachment, but- well . . . we learn to accept our feelings eventually . . . .”

Vanessa nodded smally.

I sighed. “Why is it that it’s been a few short days, yet it feels like centuries?” I set my hand against her face.

“Maybe it’s because of Lin. Maybe it’s because of his memories, it feels like longer. That must be why you’re so quick to love me. He’s enhancing whatever desire you already have and making it . . . more feely. Lin is very . . . feely, you know?”

But gazing into her dark eyes, I knew that wasn’t the truth. It couldn’t be. “Maybe you’re right,” I said, “there’s no denying my love for you is just as strong as his.”

She let out a frustrated sigh, turning away from my hand. “I can’t say goodbye to you.”

“What?”

“You brought me with you to say goodbye, and I won’t. I refuse.” She turned her back on me.

“Why?”

“I won’t! I can’t! I can’t be attached to you.” She started to leave.

“Wait! You deserve to feel upset. I’m sorry if I’ve ruined everything. But if this is goodbye, then I want it.”

She stopped, her hand that was reaching for the door went back to her side. “I wish we knew why you’re here.”

“There’s nothing this world has for me.”

“That’s a lie.”

It was silent then for a moment. I wondered if she was right. And in that case, what would leaving accomplish? But if leaving wasn’t the right choice, I knew that fate would bring me back to her. It had to.

“Then stay. Say goodbye. Be with me.”

She sighed. “I can’t let myself.”

“Turn around, and look at me, and let go, and be happy. Please.”

She turned back to face me. “Fine,” she said, and she managed a smile. She came up to me and embraced me softly, and I embraced her back. “Husband, our bond is infinity. And that will never change. No matter what happens.”

“Of course it won’t,” I replied. “Of course it won’t, dear.” I let go of her with one hand, which I set on her face. I leaned in and kissed her. She gladly obliged, kissing me back.

I released and smiled down at her. “That was lovely. Those words were lovely. You’re lovely.”

“So are you.”

Nessa stayed and helped me shoot the videos while we laughed and hugged and kissed and she admired me. She didn’t look away. We kept cautious, and didn’t indicate Vanessa’s presence at all in the videos, lest we make Lin suspicious of our closeness. 

As I got undressed from the last costume, Vanessa started to cry.

“Hon, why are you crying?” I asked gently.

“Seeing you like this . . . it’s going to work. We- we both know you don’t belong here.”

I finished taking it off and put Lin’s clothes back on. “Here, kiss me and we’ll go downstairs.”

She looked up at me and wiped her eyes. She stood up. “I told you, I won’t say goodbye. I can’t do that to myself.” She left the room and walked downstairs alone. I waited a moment, before I did the same.

Downstairs at the party, everyone was so supportive, but they all responded differently to my presence there. Daveed, Jasmine, Oak, and Anthony didn’t ask me a lot of questions. They would rather tell me to make funny faces at them, or to try and sing my parts, which, I admit, was difficult. Leslie asked the most questions. He was always trying to make sure I was feeling okay. Groff was like Daveed, Anthony, Jasmine, and Oak, in that he tried to mess with me and make me laugh. However, his approach included stealing my phone, which I was filming with, and touching my butt. Classy. Real classy. Chris, Renee, and Phillipa were all very concerned about my relationship with Vanessa. I tried to tell them it wasn’t a big deal, but it was hard for them to let go of. 

After I had gotten to most everybody, and the party started dying out, I announced that we would start the performance in thirty minutes, and everyone scrambled to get ready, except Leslie of course. This gave me just enough time to settle myself down at my desk, and write, but before I did, I made sure to tell Chris to grab the paper on the desk after the performance, and send it home with Lin. 

Beads of sweat ran down my temples, and I wasn’t even in the stage lights yet. I felt a tingling sensation run down my body, as I waited to make my appearance onstage. Would this be the end? Was this world truly content without me? It seemed so. My legacy had been completely and utterly realized in the most perfect way imaginable. Perhaps I was destined to take this one fleeting glimpse, and disappear. And all seemed content with that except one. I found her as I stepped into the light, declaring my name to thousands of empty seats. All empty save for hers. My last fleeting glimpse. It had to be her. When she saw that I had spotted her, she blew me a kiss. And then I let myself be taken.

Chapter Text

“Goodbye, Alexander!” The strangers said. They all wore very odd clothing, and they looked at me in a way that made me feel like I should have had some sentimental feeling for them. But I didn’t.

A tall, bald man took me by the arm and gently led me through the building, picking up some items along the way. An odd mirror, a key, a set of that odd looking clothing, and an envelope. He spoke to me in a soft voice, and was very kind to me, even though by my accounts we had never met before.

The man escorted me to an odd looking contraption which he called a “car”. Bidding me farewell, he passed me on to a young woman, who helped me into the curious contraption, grabbing my various items and pulling a sort of belt across me. I said not a word. 

It must have been some kind of dream, but it was very vivid. We moved in a sharp and fast manner, which I was not accustomed to. I felt like I might be sick, but then we slowed. The woman had given me a knowing pat on the shoulder, and somehow, we had slowed. 

She was extremely beautiful, but it was overcome by the anguish in her eyes whenever she looked at me. She called me by name as she reassured me, as the others had, but her voice was significantly more solemn. I could tell she was trying to hide her emotions, as Burr often did. 

Burr. The duel. This isn’t a dream, is it?

I found that I could not look at her. Instead, I looked out at the city. It was foreign, but oddly, I felt at home as I watched the sun set. I marveled at the buildings, as they lit up so that they outshined even the brightest of stars. I had never seen candles so bright. 

“Alexander, we’re here.” 

The woman got out of her seat, and opened the door, leading me out into the night. It was much darker here.

I looked up at the tall spire of the church. The light it emitted. Bright and colorful and hopeful. I knew not what she was doing, but she did not take me into the church, as I thought she would. As I thought she ought to. Instead, my arm in her grasp, she led me through the graveyard itself. I shuddered a bit as I followed her. The graves were backlit by the city’s dim glow, and I could have called it beautiful, but it was no such thing. The shadows of the stones stretched across the ground, and the place was silent, except for the soft thud of our footsteps. The church was familiar. I was drawn to it. That was where I should be. But the woman led me through the dark, stopping in front of a cluster of graves. She lit a small candle, and handed it to me. Hesitantly, I took it.

The woman sounded choked up, like she could have burst into tears. “Alexander, I . . . I want to say goodbye. I know you’re so confused. I know you . . . you don’t remember me. I should’ve just said goodbye.” Tears started to fall from her face. “It worked, we both knew it would, and I should have just let you say goodbye. I should have just let you. But everything just keeps changing. And maybe I thought I could . . . stop it if I just didn’t say goodbye. Oh, Alexander, won’t you say something to me? I’m saying goodbye to you.”

Even in the dim light I could see the deep emotion etched across her strained face. The silvery tears running down her cheeks. But what could I say? I did not know this woman.

“I shall say goodbye to you as well then,” I said.

“Oh, good, good.” She placed a kiss on my forehead. Glanced longingly at my lips. “Goodbye,” she said softly.

“Goodbye,” I echoed back, and I watched as she disappeared into the darkness.

Although the tall structures surrounding me beamed with light, the churchyard was dark. And the grave I stood before was backlit, and I couldn’t read the inscription. With the small candle held in my shaking hands, I began to survey what the woman had led me to. 

One grave stood tall above the ones around it. Directly ahead of me, it stood with four small pillars, and a majestic pyramid erected from the top of the structure, which in itself would have been sufficient enough to outshine all of the surrounding graves. Hesitantly, I raised my candle, stepping carefully around the small grave that sat beneath the larger one. My hand was shaking, the candle flickering as I held it out to read the inscription on the grand structure.

TO  THE  MEMORY  OF

My breath was held, as I braced myself for what the next line would read. I moved the candle slowly toward it, anticipating what might be written on it. But no, it couldn’t be. 

ALEXANDER HAMILTON

I let out my breath, shuddering and almost blowing out the candle. So this wasn’t a dream. I moved the candle further down, reading the remainder of the inscription.

The CORPORATION of TRINITY CHURCH Has erected this

MONUMENT

IN

He died July 12th, 1804, Aged 47  

The little candle trembled in my fingers, my whole being shaken with overwhelming feelings of gratitude. I felt my eyes sting, and my legs wobbled beneath me. I made myself to sit down on the path behind me. However, as I passed over the grave in front of mine, my clear path to the pavement was briefly hindered. The candle’s light shone on the rectangular structure, and with a quick glance, I felt my heart skip a beat. I dared not read what else was carved upon the stone.

Taking a deep breath, I took a seat, placing the small candle in front of me. I could feel my eyes becoming damp, and I wiped them with my sleeve. My throat tightened as I sat in silence, feeling the breeze blow some loose strands of my hair, and the candle wavered. 

I put my hand to the cold stone, stroking the side of it. I sighed. She wasn’t here. Not yet. She couldn’t be. I breathed deeply, feeling the cool air fill my lungs. It seemed almost that time had no effect here. The streets still bustled around me despite the darkness. 

Perhaps that was it. Perhaps it didn’t matter the time. Perhaps I didn’t have to wait. Perhaps the stone was complete. 

I got up from my spot, and moved the candle down the stone, reading.

ELIZA

I sucked in a breath, letting it out slowly as I sat back down. I felt a small smile brush my lips. She had taken her time. And by the looks of the huge monument in front of me, she had kept my legacy alive. But I was disheartened all the same. She seemed almost an afterthought, as overshadowed by my own grave, was hers. She deserved better. 

I stared at the candle sitting in front of me. Where is she? Should not I have been greeted by her? Or is it that I am left here knowing all whom I know have moved on to a greater place? To be greeted heartily by strangers, but kept from those I know and love. It is a curse.

All I had ever wanted was a legacy, and now I had one, but I was trapped. Not a soul but mine and those of people who only made me feel guilty about not knowing them. Not even Burr was here. I should have thought that of all people, he would be in this wretched place with me. 

I wondered whether the church itself was a trick. Just a mirage. It had to be. If I approached its doors, it would never let me in. It was put there to taunt me. My last ditch efforts to be let into that place were done for.

It was taunting. The monument which painted a false picture of me. A picture that served me well. A picture that says I should be with the others. A picture that does not show my flaws. My flaws which kept me here. Here to wait. To wait for nothing. To wait alone. I wondered, was Burr alone?

I sniffled, looking at the small flame that still sat, keeping lit, creating warmth. My eyes once again began to sting. I let them close, and the tears that had welled within them slid down my cheeks. 

In the darkness I sat. My throat tensed, and I sobbed. I held my face in my hands, feeling it contort in ugly agony. Tears streaming relentlessly, I wondered if they missed me. Did they know I was down here? Here? In Hell.

Chapter Text

My arm was being shaken. I opened my eyes, but I couldn’t see a thing. It was dark, and cold. 

“Lin . . . Oh, Lin . . .” 

“Nessa?”

“Yes, yes, I’m here.”

She gave me a warm embrace, and then brought me steadily to my feet. My eyes began to focus as she carefully brought her thumbs up to my eyes, freeing them of their dampness. 

“You were crying,” she said. But I didn’t remember crying. It was odd. I didn’t remember a lot. 

I looked around us, squinting at the silhouettes.

“Why are we at Trinity Church? And why is it the middle of the night?” I asked, confused.

“Hon, it’s okay, let’s just get to the car.”

She took my arm, leading me through the graveyard and back to the car. Once in the light, I suddenly realized what I was wearing.

“Hon, why am I in costume? And-and why did we take the car?” She opened the door to the car and got in the driver's seat, unlocking the passenger’s side door. I got in and strapped myself in, unsure of what was going on.

“Lin, it doesn’t matter, let's just get home.” She seemed stressed. 

“But Nessa-”

“Lin, we both need some sleep. How about we keep it quiet? We can talk it over tomorrow. I promise.”

“Okay,” I replied, and we drove home in silence. We thanked her parents for looking after Sebastian and Tobi, and then went to bed right away. I didn’t sleep well. I couldn’t stop wondering about the gaps in my memory. It seemed as if weeks had gone by where I didn’t recall a thing, up until tonight, in the graveyard. It worried me. Why had I even been there?

Chapter Text

I woke up, rested but still feeling a bit drained. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and got up, pulling on some clothes before going to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast. I got some cereal, and sitting across from Vanessa, I began to eat. 

We engaged in some small talk while we ate, and after eating and putting my dishes away, I gave Nessa and Sebastian each a little peck before I left to brush my teeth. However, Nessa cut my journey short just as I got to the hall.

“Honey, this might explain something,” She said, and she held out an envelope. I took it, a bit unsure. Why can’t she talk to me? Does she not have the strength to tell me what happened last night? 

“Thanks,” I replied, and she left back to the table where Sebastian sat. 

I placed the letter on my bedside table, and went to brush my teeth. Quickly, I ran a brush through my hair, putting it up and then brushing and flossing my teeth. I was eager to figure out what all of this was about, and I was curious to find out why it was even happening in the first place.

Sitting on the bed, I took the envelope in my hands. I looked at my name, handwritten, without an address, or even a sender name and address. 

Mr. Lin-Manuel Miranda

I felt a smile cross my face. I could recognize that handwriting anywhere. I could barely keep myself from scrambling to rip the envelope apart so that I might read what lay within. With a smile plastered on my face, I managed to carefully rip it open without severely damaging it. I set the envelope down on the bedside table, and took its contents in my hands.

A single piece of paper, covered in writing. It was no surprise, but I questioned what was written on it. How was this even possible?

And so, eager and confused, I began reading.

As I read I felt the smile fade from my face. I was annoyed, confused, and saddened all at once. The whole thing felt unreal. I read it over a couple of times, trying to soak up all the information. It was so much to handle. I didn’t know if I could bear to read the rest, but I thought it best if I did. I had to know whatever he needed me to. I had to cling to every word.

I sat, breathing heavily, and hugged the letter to my chest. It was all too much. I could barely contain myself. I closed my eyes, smiling brightly, as my mind reeled at the thought of it all. This was the Alexander Hamilton. He wrote this letter. He took videos on my phone. Woah.

I could barely believe it, and I knew I had to see for myself, so I set the letter down and grabbed my phone.

I scrolled to find the first video he had taken. I thought it would be best to watch them in order. I clicked on the video.

“Oh. Hello,” Hamilton said, looking at his face in the phone. “Oh, I can see myself in here. By the way. In case you catch me staring.”

I smiled. It was weird seeing him, but even weirder that he was just wearing my clothes.

“So, uh, I’m . . . Hamilton!” He said, smiling sheepishly at the phone. “And yeah. This is me saying hi to you for the intro! Hi Lin!” Alex smiled, and looked off behind the camera at whoever was filming.

He seemed so out of his element. He clearly had no idea what he was doing. It made me chuckle a bit. 

“Now, I’m going to get into something more . . . comfortable,” he said, as he wiggled his eyebrows, opening my closet to reveal all of my Hamilton costumes. Then the video ended.

I clicked on the next one.

“Ah,” Hamilton said, the camera moving up and down to show his first costume, the one with the brown jacket. “Nice, nice,” he remarked, “it feels just right.” Looking at himself in the camera, he flattened down a few stray hairs. Then he slowly moved his eyes to the lens. “I suppose if I don’t look here I’m not looking at you, but do excuse me for looking at myself. I can’t really help it.” He let a smirk cross his face, as he ended the video.

I smiled, glad that he was enjoying himself.

I clicked on the next video.

“Ha ha!” Alex exclaimed, his face right in the camera. Then it was pulled away, revealing his revolutionary uniform. “Now this is where it’s at!” He let out a smile. “This really brings me back.” He looked at himself in the camera, sighing and stroking the costume. He looked at it a little longingly, before he waved to the camera and stopped the video.

I felt like I wanted to just step in the video and give him a big hug. It must’ve been hard for him to let all of this go. 

I clicked on the fourth video.

Alexander was clad in green almost from head to toe. “Wow, this sure is flashy. I like it,” he said, and whoever was filming scanned him up and down with the phone so that I could see it all. “Oops, can’t forget the glasses,” he continued, putting them on. “Mmmm, very sophisticated.” He held his head up a bit as he paced purposefully across my dressing room. I caught a glimpse of a familiar silhouette in the mirror. He stopped pacing, and, after giving a quick wink, ended the video.

I backed up the video, and watched it again. Vanessa was filming him, her undeniable silhouette in the dressing room mirrors as Hamilton walked across the room. It was very weird. If anyone, I would have thought Leslie might have been filming. Not her. She is the last one who would buy into any of this. Right?

Not quite sure what to make of this, I clicked the next video.

Hamilton settled the glasses onto his nose, looking at the camera lens. “Well, this is depressing,” he stated, as the phone was pulled away to reveal his dueling outfit. “I guess I’d better put on something else. Don’t wanna get choked up just yet.” He let out a small sheepish smile, and his blue eyes glistened a bit, before he concluded the video.

I sighed. He was clearly trying to make the best out of it, but I could still see how much he was regretting his decision. He didn’t want to go. The videos betrayed the careful facade he’d created in the letter. There was no hiding the hint of fear in his eyes. 

I scrolled around a bit to see how many more videos there were. Damn. There were way too many. I didn’t want to watch all of them in one sitting. So, I opted to look for one with a funny-looking thumbnail, in hopes of cheering myself up before asking Nessa about the video she took of Hamilton's performance. Right. She’d taken the video of his performance. Of course she’d taken these too.

I clicked on one with a close-up of Jonathan’s face. I was hesitant, since I was really watching the videos for Alexander, but I knew that if anything, Groff would make me laugh. 

The video began, with his face right up in the screen. “So, I just stole your phone, sorry, but I just have to.” 

I was confused. Why did he have to steal it? From Alexander, of all people?

The video continued, as Groff turned the phone around, searching through the crowd. “Oh, there it is!” He zoomed into a small break in the crowd, where Alexander stood, his back towards the camera. He zoomed in further. “Are you seeing this?” he whispered, “Alexander Hamilton’s ass, alive and thriving in its natural habitat. This is the last of its species you know.” 

It was all I could do to keep myself from bursting out laughing. 

“Let’s see if we can sneak up on it,” he whispered. “Goddamn, it looks so weird in your pants, Lin. That is definitely not yours.” With that, he walked slowly towards Alexander, the camera bobbing as he did so. When a couple feet from the unsuspecting Hamilton, Groff ran past him, and a crisp smack could be heard. Although I hadn’t seen what had conspired, I knew exactly the type of antics Groff pestered me with. And Alexander’s raised voice in the background confirmed it. By the looks of it Groff knew what was coming for him, as he ran away fast, snickering, and ended the video.

I rolled my eyes. It was one thing to playfully touch my ass, but a completely different matter when it came to touching the ass of one of the founding fathers of America. That’s not just something you do! And that smack was so damn hard!

I sighed, turning off my phone. I’ve had enough of these videos for the day. I should ask Nessa about seeing his performance before I have to do mine.

Chapter Text

Sebastian was fast asleep, and I sat on the couch, waiting for Lin to return. He would surely be back within the hour, and with every passing minute I felt my heart grow heavier with anticipation.

Today Lin was the most whole I had seen him in weeks. Even though he knew of his past life, he seemed at peace with it. Hearing it from Alexander was what he needed to keep himself in check. He was genuinely happy. 

We had watched the performance together, smiling, crying, and hugging each other through it all. It was emotional for the both of us, and we had become a bit closer through the experience, but for me, it was for all the wrong reasons.

Alexander and I had been so worried. Worried that we would have to live the rest of our lives together. I had convinced myself that I had loved him because deep down Lin was still there. However, I now knew that wasn’t the case. Lin was here, but I didn’t feel the same towards him. Not the way I’d felt about Alex. Alexander was magnetic, and I had been so afraid of it. I didn’t understand what we were to each other. I barely knew him, and yet somehow I had felt secure in the thought of letting down my every defense. Letting him kiss me despite being complete strangers. Letting him sleep in our bed. And he wasn’t Lin. He only reminded me of him. And I kept telling myself that was the only reason. But it wasn’t. Being with him had changed me and I was ashamed and afraid. Afraid of what Lin might say.

I had made up my mind though, and that was why my heart beat so hard in my chest as I waited on the couch. I couldn’t keep this from him. There was no way. He had been honest with me about his own vices with Pippa and Anthony. I couldn’t possibly keep this a secret. If he left me, so be it. If I wasn’t honest with him now, it would tear me apart.

I felt terrible though. Only now was he finally happy again, and I didn’t think I could bear to see him broken once more. But I knew I needed to tell him now. When he was still adjusting. I didn’t want to wait until he was settled again, only to throw another wrench in our lives.

I heard someone walking up the staircase. Oh God. Lin knocked on the door. I’m not ready. I took a deep breath, and opened the door.

Lin smiled upon seeing me, and walked in, leaning down and petting Tobi, who had heard his arrival and jaunted up to the door. I closed the door behind him. “Hey, how’re my favorite girls,” he said, and he stood, and gave me a kiss. Quickly, I dragged him back down the hallway towards our room.

“What are you doing?” he asked, a little jokingly.

I closed the door and sat down on the edge of the bed, motioning him to come sit beside me. With a small smile still on his face, he hesitantly took a seat. 

“I have to tell you something important.” I watched as the smile faded from his lips.

He let out a breath. “Then let’s get settled down then.” 

I nodded, and we both went about getting ourselves ready for bed. We were both silent, until I turned off the light, and got into bed next to Lin.

“How was your performance today?” I inquired, trying to break the ice.

“Emotional,” he replied. 

We laid in silence for a moment. Of course it had been emotional, Lin knew he was Hamilton now, all over again. Neither of us could find the words to continue on the path of the conversation. It was Lin’s turn to break the ice.

“Hon, you said you had to tell me something. What is it, please. I’m here for you.”

I let out a sigh. If only he still had his memories. His memories of cheating on me. Then he would at least have some understanding, feel sympathy even, but I can’t let him have that burden. Besides, he would never believe me if I told him he’d cheated. He was in the dark. And although I knew well that the concept of cheating in our relationship as of now wasn’t exactly normal, or right, or logical, it was at least familiar to me. But Lin, he had no idea. This was all he knew. He didn’t understand what it felt like to be in that situation. Not anymore.

“Lin, I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” he replied, as he began to absentmindedly stroke my hair. He was so innocent, so naive. He wasn’t prepared for what I was about to tell him.

“Lin, I . . . I think I . . . I cheated on you.” I felt as his hand slowed, found its place on my cheek for a moment, and fell back to the bed, no longer connecting us.

For a moment it seemed that all was still, all was quiet, except for the thudding of our hearts. And then a small sound broke the silence. Lin’s breathing. It was so deep, and when he breathed out it rattled his being. He lay there shuddering, unable to get his breathing back into its normal rhythm. It sounded like in any second he might break down and cry. 

It took him a while, but finally he got the nerve to speak. “How could you do this to us?” he whispered, before burying his face in his pillow, awaiting my response. It was dark, but our eyes had both now adjusted. He didn’t want to look at me. 

“Lin, it wasn’t my intention, I didn’t know what I was getting into,” I whispered.

He kept his head into the pillow, listening. 

“It’s just, he loved me. And somehow I found myself thinking that way towards him too, but we barely knew each other. I’m so sorry, but . . . it just . . . happened. I didn’t understand what was happening. But I-he understood me. In this weird way that I know you never will and I- . . . Oh, I’m so sorry. And I know that means nothing to you. But I’m sorry.”

I heard his muffled sobs from the pillow, as my betrayal truly began to dawn on him. I reached out, and petted his head, feeling him flinch under my touch. His hair was so smooth and soft. I let my hand fall back to the bed. He probably didn’t want half-hearted affection.

Lin let out a small whimper, and I went back to petting his locks. He continued to sob, silent, but shuddering as he let his tears flow.

“I am going to be completely blunt and honest with you right now, because I know that is the only way I can do this. And I’m so sorry. But I still love him. And I’m scared. I’ve never felt so divided in my life. I love you, but at the same time I inexplicably love him. I don’t know what to do. He’s not even here anymore, but now that he’s gone I realize that I truly miss him. I realize how much he meant to me. And he doesn’t even love me anymore. When he left I thought my love for him would flow back into you. It didn’t. And Lin, don’t get me wrong, I still love you, and the only reason I began to love him was that . . . he was like you. And when you were gone . . . he was all I had.”

I felt my eyes sting, and Lin picked up his head from the pillow. I set my hand under my pillow, snuggling down further. “When I was gone?” He asked, his face damp with tears.

I nodded. “When he was here.” And then we laid there in silence. It seemed like minutes, but it was only really seconds until I heard Lin gasp. He stared at me, a shocked expression plastered on his face.

“Oh Nessa, you . . . oh . . .” he said.

“Lin,” I urged, “please don’t . . . think about it too hard.” But I knew he had already realized.

“You . . . you and . . . Alexander.” 

I nodded. Lin stared at me for a second. And then, he did the oddest thing. He smiled at me.

“Why are you smiling at me like that?”

“That doesn’t count.”

“What?”

“I mean, I thought you had like, actually cheated on me. Did you-did you and him-”

“I did cheat on you. I kissed him and I let him sleep in our bed and he held me in his arms and he told me . . . he told me I loved him, Lin. He-” I let out a breath, realizing what I had just said. 

He reached out his arm, cupping my cheek with his hand. “I don’t think you can cheat on me with myself.” He snuggled in closer to me, filling the gap between us, so that our noses practically touched. “Just promise you . . . won’t leave me.”

“I promise.”

We stared at each other through the dark, our eyes locked. I felt tears well in my eyes, and they stung. My throat tensed. I began to cry. I knew. I knew the true answer to the equation. I knew the quantity of infinity. Impossible.

“Nessa. What’s wrong?”

I couldn’t bring myself to answer him. I just kept crying. 

“Hon please, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

“Vanessa please,” Lin said.

I wiped my tears with my hand, looking at him. I brought my forehead to his with a sigh. Said the words I had never said. “Alexander, I love you.”

“Love you too,” Lin said, a bit unsure.

I smiled. A tear ran down my face. “Alexander . . . you’re the closest friend I’ve got.”

Lin pulled his head back, looking into my eyes for some kind of sign. But he didn’t need one. The next line was inevitable, and it lay on the tip of his tongue. He didn’t need to tell me, but he did anyway.

“Laurens,” he whispered, “do not throw away your shot.”