I should get a better job. But apparently dressing up in colonial clothing and acting like I just toppled heads-over heels out of 1776, is the only thing I'm good at.
Cricket Fawcett is nothing special. She's your typical college dropout, wannabe ac...
Hey y'all, wow it's been awhile, but we are here now (well this is just Ella, posting again behind Grace and Phoebes back because this needed to happen) but anywho we are back!!! I hate self promoting but please don't forget to comment, vote and follow our account, we would appreciate it soooooo much. And now to the story because, hey the hamilfans need there fanfiction! Hope you enjoy!!!
-Ella, Grace and Phoebe Aka The Ham Fam
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"It's 2016. If you go up to people, telling them that you're a long-dead founder of our country resurrected by none other than Peggy Schuyler—" "I would be taken for a mad man..." "Exactly. And you don't have an ID." "An... ID?"
"Oh." Flushing with embarrassment, I fumble with my bag and resurrect my wallet from it's old-receipt-ridden clutches. It's a beautiful linen sack with the word "هفت delicately embroidered into it's center. It translates simply to: Haft. It really doesn't mean anything- it's basically punctuation. Egyptian people say it when they finish a meal, or sit down after a long day on their feet- an expression of contentment- and the first word I ever learned in Arabic, thanks to my roommate.
"This is an ID," I said sighing at the thought of bringing him home and meeting Mara, and holding up the plastic card.
He studied it for a second and nodded, his brows knit tightly together in thought.
"And you use this for......."
"Identification, and alcohol"
He nodded again and kept looking forward swaying to the movement of the subway. It had taken him at least 15 minutes of me breaking down the subway for him to even consider stepping on, in which we missed the first train. I had to drag him into the car, holding his hand (well more like squeezing it and yanking really hard).
"Is this our stop?" He asked at least the fifth time.
"No, it is the next one though" I replied looking at the stop.
He nodded again, he still looked very dazed, like he was in a dream. His eyes weren't very alive and his movements seemed slow and hesitant. The doors opened again, and I started out, grabbing Alex's hand in the process. I pull him out and start walking, quite quickly, through the station and up on to the street. I stopped abruptly in front of my apartment building. Alex stopped in front of me and looked at me inquisitively.
"I have a roommate, her name is Mara and she's.............." I trailed off. I decided that it would just be better if he met her. Or this could be disastrous.
Fuck
Fortunately, the only apartment Mara and I could afford was in the bottommost floor of West 180th Washington Heights. It's the cheapest 2 bedroom apartment we could possibly get, and our amenities include a hot plate, a window, and a wooden dining room table that Mara stole off of the sidewalk. I thank my lack of foresight and money, because I don't have to do another Introduction to Technology with Bea Fawcett. If Hamilton had to step foot in an elevator on top of all this, I'm pretty damn sure he would go into shock.
