Chapter Text
Alexander Hamilton is a theatre kid.
This fact has resonated with him since he was 12- 6 years ago now- because his foster father ran a theatre camp. It wasn’t one of those slapped-together camps (though those could certainly be great, as he knows from other experiences back on St. Croix), either- the place was seriously well funded, to the point where Alex began to feel awkward talking to the other people in his theatre class at school. Didn’t have to worry about that anymore, though- he’d finally gotten out of high school, and had gotten into Princeton, hopefully leaving behind all the idiots who judged him for the countless things he’d done “wrong” (namely, having a personality in general, it seemed).
Really, considering the fact that he’s technically no longer a minor by most respects, theatre man is probably more accurate in this case, but it doesn’t really have the same ring to it.
These are the thoughts that are spiraling through his head as he drives with his closest friends to Camp Forge. He’s in Peggy’s mom van (why the actual hell did they buy a minivan? Their dad was loaded. They could buy literally any reasonable car) with the three Schuyler siblings, plus Mulligan and Lafayette, and he stares out the window, feeling completely removed from the scene.
“Hey, Hamilton,” says Mulligan, snapping his massive fingers under Alex’s nose. “Pay attention.” Lafayette is frowning at him. Alex leans back in his seat and rolls his eyes.
“What, Laf?” Alexander asks, stretching his neck in an attempt to look down his nose at them (he’s always been the shortest in his friend group). The Frenchman huffs, crossing their arms.
“I SAID, Alex, that we might have someone new joining our cabin.”
Alex raises his eyebrows. “Really?” Camp Forge is, in that way, very much like every other summer camp anyone has ever gone to. A counselor (theirs is Mulligan, not that it matters- he’s a few years older than them, but no more mature) per cabin, 3 to 4 besides them. Generally, they’re categorized by gender, but ever since the youngest Schuyler sibling, Peggy, came along, Washington caved and let people put in requests.
Laf fidgets in their seat, perking up a little despite their annoyance at Alex. “Oui! He’s a family friend of mine- John Laurens. Came out as gay a couple months back to his ass of a father, and is going to this camp because my parents lied to his father and said it was one of those… how you say… Pray the gay away camps.” Alex snorts- of course they did that, probably at Lafayette’s request, because their parents are ridiculously invested in his happiness. Mulligan rolls his eyes (he’s not surprised either), while the Schuylers burst out laughing.
“How have I not heard of him yet?” Alex asks. Lafayette shrugs, settling back into their seat.
“Ah… his sorry excuse for a father is a South Carolina senator. Republican. I merely didn’t want you trying to fight somebody with the money to sue you.” Alex huffs angrily, but concedes the point before opening his mouth to retort.
“Oh! We’re here!” calls Eliza from the passenger’s seat, effectively cutting off the conversation and beaming as she nearly flings herself out of the car. Angelica laughs and gives her sister an affectionate look as she follows. No matter how aloof anyone seems, nobody can stay that way around Camp Forge. Strange, how theatre camps have a way of breaking the acts.
xxx
John Laurens is nervous as all hell.
He’s going to a “pray the gay away” camp, of all things. He’d never thought his father would stoop so low, and on Lafayette’s parents recommendations, too! This was absolutely insanity. John’s father glanced over at him, seeming to read his thoughts.
“It’s for the best, John. You have to let go of these silly fantasies, and find the way of the Lord.”
John doesn’t dare to roll his eyes, but he’s sorely tempted.
“Ah, here we are. Camp Forge.”
“I’ll get my stuff, Dad. Bye,” he hesitates, but knows it will be marked down against him if he doesn’t say it, “love you.”
Henry nods, not bothering to reply, and opens the trunk, then waits till John has all his stuff in his arms before looking up. “Have a good summer, son,” he says, then quickly guns the engine and drives away. John exhales slowly, staring at a sign brightly proclaiming, “CAMP FORGE”, then begins the trek to the cabins.
A rowdy group of 6 kids about his age are all gathered in front of one of the cabins, laughing and talking. He thinks he catches the phrases “gonna be so fun” and “can’t wait for this year’s play”, but decides his ears must be playing tricks on him. Also, why do they look so damn happy? It’s a religious camp meant to correct them. John rolls his eyes, then catches sight of the number nailed just above the doorway- “5”. Damnit. His cabin. Henry had made him fill out the application, which was almost insultingly plain- name, email, age, gender, and sexuality, which meant he got the email saying which cabin he got. Again, it had been plain- no description of the “course” or anything. John sighs and trudges towards the group, hauling his luggage behind him.
A face pokes out of the crowd. “Laurens! It’s been so long, mon ami!” John’s brow furrows, and he stops in his tracks.
“Laf? What are you doing here?” A guilty look crosses their face as someone comes up behind him.
“You mean you didn’t tell him what this place is?” The guy asks Lafayette, obviously annoyed. Laf shrugs, expression a little sheepish. “Alright- John, isn’t it?- this guy told your dad a blatant lie when he said this was a “pray the gay away” camp or some shit. Welcome to theatre camp. And if your dad is as much as a bastard as Laf’s been saying, then, okay, I see why they had to lie and say that it was… whatever. Because apparently theatre isn’t fucking manly enough.”
Okay, John likes this guy, even if he’s kind of pissed off. “Um…”
“Sorry, Laurens.” Lafayette grins. John rolls his eyes, rocking back on his heels.
“So who’re you guys?” He distinctly notices three girls in the crowd. “Are you, like, all my cabinmates or whatever?” The guy shakes his head.
“Nah. Mulligan, Laf, and me are. Ange- watch out for her, she’s terrifying” he points to a tall girl who elbows the guy (the guy just snickers)- “Eliza, who’s a literal ray of sunshine-” a smaller girl with dark eyes smiles at him- “and Peggy, who’s kind of just awesome-” a shorter kid with a pixie cut- “Pegs is agender, and uses they/them pronouns, so respect that or fuck off- are just our friends.”
John laughs at the descriptions, then nods more seriously. “Got it. Who’re you, then?”
The guy steps forward, away from the group, and grins (oh, shit, he’s hot, and John’s only just noticed- his eyes are dark and beautiful, and he’s short but in an endearing way, and his hair is long and obsidian-black, and this can’t be healthy because this guy’s going to be his roommate for the rest of the summer), holding out his hand. John takes it.
“I’m Alexander Hamilton.”