Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story

Chapter One: New York

It was hard to believe he had come this far, granted, to anyone else, it probably was not that big of an accomplishment, but to Alexander Hamilton? Going from an orphaned Caribbean whose town had been destroyed by a Hurricane, to an immigrant in the colony of New York, with a fresh start to his name, was a huge jump. Though, he had to admit, this was going to be harder than he expected. A wealthy man had given him enough money to make it to the colonial land, however, nothing to get him started. Essentially, he was stranded in a foreign place with no money, friends, or anywhere to go. Nonetheless, it was a start.

The chain of events that had led Alexander here were quite interesting. Firstly, he had been orphaned. His father left when he was ten and his mother died of sickness when he was twelve. He, too, had gotten ill but he had gotten better. After his mother died, his older brother vanished to God-Knows-Where with Alexander's best friend. He never saw either of them again and was taken into care of his cousin. However, his cousin didn't have the best mental health and killed himself. After that, he was left all alone. He started working for his mother's former landlord, trading sugarcane and rum, and anything he couldn't afford. He escaped away from it all through reading and writings, publishing some here and there. Somewhere along the way, a man of higher class had taken notice of his talent and had granted him enough money to set sail to New York. Oh, but the chaos and trauma didn't end there, after his ship had taken sail, there was a storm. Lightning struck the boat, causing it to set aflame. Not all the passengers survived that incident, but Alexander was one of the lucky ones. He had already survived a deadly virus, the deaths of his close family, and a hurricane, a tiny fire was not going to take him out, especially not now. Yet, why was he still alive? Why was he still going? Did he really have something to say, someone to prove wrong? Why was he here? Why wasn't he dead?

That didn't matter, now he had to keep going. There had to be something, he just needed to find it. The wind blew through his dark brown hair, which was pulled back into a loose ponytail. He had tried to look professional, yet for an immigrant from Nevis, who came from low social standing, and had some problems with his family's bloodline, it wasn't easy, and he definitely noticed he wasn't dressed as well as the wealthy men in the colonies. He wore a simple, brown, duster style jacket. The jacket was a little big for him, truth be told, his father had left it behind when he left, and never came back for it, and his son simply grew attached to it, not daring to part with it. It was odd, he hated his father for leaving his mother, older brother, and himself to die poor, he hated the man didn't at least keep in touch with his sons, he hated that he broke his mother's heart. Yet, even though he didn't like his father, he still had a heavy emotional attachment to him, and no matter what might've been going through his father's mind at the time of his departure, the jacket he left behind provided comfort. It was like a clue, the one last piece of his father he had, the last thing he had to hold on to. He had a love hate relationship with the jacket, the hate coming from his awareness to what happened, yet the love coming from his childish innocence that was clinging on for all it was.

The rest of his clothes weren't fitted either, his dress shirt was too large, yet the vest he wore was too tight. The pants he wore were held onto his waist by a belt. The only thing he wore that fit were his shoes and socks. To say the least, he was humiliated. Starting his new life, and none of his clothes fit properly, and he stuck out like a sore thumb.

He had already become the laughing stock of Princeton, showing up looking like that, asking for an education, and had gotten into a fight with a friend of Aaron Burr's for calling him stupid. His first day here was going great, if you couldn't tell.

What to do now? He wondered.

He continued to venture down the sidewalk, his face unable to read emotions. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught glimpse of the setting that would determine his fate. He didn't know it at the time, but the events that would transpire shortly would forever change his life, and shape it into what it became. He didn't give the pub a second thought, that is, until, he saw someone head in. Not just anyone, but the great Aaron Burr. The man might not've had the best reputation in New York, but back in Nevis he was a big deal, especially considering how quickly he graduated. That's what the Hamilton wanted to do, graduate fast and just get right to business.

This is it, he thought. Maybe something is going in my favor today.

With that last thought, he entered the bar, forever sealing his own fate.