•Hamilton: An American Musical•

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Okay, now we're back and this time with Hamilton!!! Lin-Manuel Miranda is the very incarnation of Puertorrican Pride!! Super proud of the guy. He's literally my idol! ^_^ and, so, I see fit to dedicate a one-shot to his most successful work yet. 

What's your favorite song from the musical?

Mine's a tie between "Satisfied", "Non-Stop", "Yorktown", and "Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story?" :) (I'm sorry, I just really like musicals)

-Author❤️
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Twist in Time: Hamilton

    "Listen, Marco, I really need to go! I only have two nights left to study for my History test and the book I need is at the library. I don't have that much time in the day to learn my notes, so at least give me a few hours over there." You reasoned with your older brother, Marco, as you put on your hoodie over your pajamas. Your brother stood with his arms crossed in front of the door. "A few hours?! (Y/N), it's one hour 'till midnight! There's no way I'm letting you leave!" He explained, eyes wide. "Please, Marc, please! You know how I am with books! I'll be out of there in no time! Just be glad the librarian is like a second mother to me and will surely let me stay until later." You begged, tugging on your jeans and lacing your sneakers on.
    You and your brother had a one-minute stare-off before he sighed. "One hour. That's it. And take some cash with you, just in case!"

    Now, you know what you said to your brother mere minutes ago, but let's get something clear. When you said you wanted to expand your research, you didn't mean this. When you exclaimed, "Hey, I'll go to the ends of the earth to know what I want to know and get what I need!", you didn't mean this. When you thought, "I'll get as close to history as I need to, to know all there is to know", you didn't mean this.
    All because of your stupid ambitions of becoming a recognized historian.
    First, you had to study for your test, though you never thought you'd get this much of a first-hand experience.

"Mother of God..." You hissed under your breath, eyes large at your surroundings. You were sure—dead sure, even— that you had just went to sleep at the local library in town. You went out for the library, caught a midnight snack, grabbed a dusty old book, and K.O'd on a desk. You were sure—very, very, very sure— that none of your nightly activities would have caused you to end up in 16th century America.
"What on earth—?!" You gasped at the wooden houses and the oddly dressed people. Women and Men were walking around wearing dresses and suits, though all of which you had never seen outside of a glass case in a history museum.
Carriages rode down the dirt road, pulled by horses. One nearly ran you over, "Careful!" shouted the coachman, waving his hand at you. You numbly moved out of the way, large (E/C) eyes following the carriage as it passed.

This couldn't be happening, you thought, it's unreal.
This all had to be a dream. A really weird, really vivid, dream. It was the only explanation to the whole ordeal. There was no way in absolute, that you somehow went back in time where America wasn't even America yet. Yes, this was all a dream. A measly, feeble dream. You'll soon wake up....

"Excuse me, miss." You jolt in your spot, swiftly turning around to face a young woman. She seemed to be in her early twenties, blonde hair tied together, bearing a blue dress, and accompanied with a child. "Y—Yes?" You squeaked, still suffering from shock. If you really did travel back in time, shouldn't you be avoiding contact with people?! "Would it be a bother if you keep an eye over my son, here? I have to take over some quick errands at the tailor shop and he's always quite the rascal there..." She spoke, voice kind and shallow. Only then did you realize the woman had bags under her eyes.
You didn't know what to say. "Erm—"
"Oh please! I'll pay you after, if that's the worry!" She pleaded. You could only nod dumbly. "Oh, thank you, miss!" She lightly curtsied and hastily left in the opposite direction you were facing, leaving you with her child.

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