Chapter Text
Emmett had forgotten how to breathe when he finally stepped out of the Congress.
His head hurt, loud noises still banging in his skull. God, why was the other congressman still acting like schoolchildren fighting over some game instead of discussing real country matters? And god forbid if the young idealist tries to warn them- instead he should sit back and learn from his beloved colleagues and the reason for that is that he-
He stumbled to the sidewalk when he nearly got smushed to the ground by a carriage. He should have paid more attention to his surroundings, shouldn’t he? Well, the atmosphere of the gray New York afternoon most certainly didn’t help him. All he could hear were birds chirping, carriages rattling through and people chattering around the street. Women and men from every age, all white and rich and luxurious, slamming their heels on hard earned ground that smells like freedom and lies. He dodged a few ladies marching nearly into him, looking anywhere but in their eyes. How he wished to just reach home without having to bother with the road… He tried to focus on the cobblestones, occasionally tripping on his own feet even though watching the ground. A few steps forward, then twenty steps to the left…. And finally, the tired man was in front of his home, a sad brick building too sorry for a congressman but too fine for a caitiff as him. The lock on the door creaked sadly as he unlocked it, placing his key on top the counter. Trying not to look around as he hung his coat, he made his way straight to the office to swing his satchel to a corner of the room, only to freeze to see his reflection on the small mirror hanging from the wall. He had forgotten he hung this here to avoid it in his bedroom…
The tired man stared at his reflection like he was seeing right inside of his own soul. The auburn hair that he desperately tried to tie back with a navy ribbon fell free around his face, making the dark loops under his eyes stand out even more than they should. His shirt was wrinkled- had he forgot to fix it that morning? No wonder no one took him seriously. He tied his hair back with the ribbon again, a few shorter strands still falling in front of his face. The congressman finally looked a bit more put-together.
Finally crashing on his chair, he closed his eyes. The whole day’s events crashed back onto him, feeling like Sisyphus carrying that rock forever and ever and ever. What change did he do today? What was his outcome?
The knocks came unexpectedly, loud at the door. Who would bother to visit him at his hour? With much effort, he stood up from his chair and made his way to the doorway. Curious, Emmett opened the squeaky door.
The person that was standing over him was Alexander Hamilton in his sharp green coat, with that insufferable smile.