She did find inspiration that day in the library, she decided that he would be her muse. She printed off the well-crafted article from the ancient computers in the library and went down to see Donna.

"Hey Donna, I was going to head up to the studio if you didn't need any help" Genevieve said with a smile. Two years ago when Donna walked in on Genevieve drawing, she decided that the young girl needed a place for creativity. There was an old loft in the library once used as a place for novelist song typewriters abandon years ago. It made a perfect studio for Genevieve.

"Donna?" She questioned when the older women didn't respond. Instead she looked to the sixteen year old with an apologetic/pitiful look.

"You can paint your stupid paintings later. We have places to be dumbass" a voice growled from behind her. Her shoulders tensed and the hair on her neck stood up.

"What places?" she answered daringly. She didn't know why but she just had to paint this man, her muse.

"I'm your legal guardian you listen to what I say now come on" he said. Roman, said "brother" if you could even call him that dragged her forcefully by the arm. The cold winter air hit her like a brick.

     "Where are we going?" Genevieve asked, she could feel blood vessels breaking under his touch.

     "Home. So I can have my way with you before I go on my business trip" he snarled. She gulped. She'd been taking his abuse for years but only once has he ever "had his way with her"...

   Climbing up to the lost that evening was one of the most painful things she felt she'd ever endured. The pain between her thighs only gave relief when she collapsed onto the hard floor.

    She took an Advil and sat up. She carefully removed her sweater, the loft was right near the heater and not mention pretty high up. She took off her beanie letting her hair cascade down her back and over her shoulders that was once concealed in the fabric.

   A yawn escaped her lips quietly. "I knew you'd be back" Genevieve heard from behind her.

    "I really need to paint right now" she said honestly, back to Donna whom was now handing her a mug of coffee.

    "Stay safe, night" Donna said leaving the library.

     Genevieve picked up her pencil and began to draw on the very large canvas. She had splurged a few weeks ago due to some extra shifts and decided to buy it. She couldn't come up with a concept for it, until today.

     After drawing the man himself, she took her paint brush and let herself express everything she went through earlier. Colours, burgundy, blue, black and purple; because just like her creation she was also painted with them.

    By the time she was finished a bead of sweat rolled down her pale temple and tears threatened to spill out of her eyes. Something about this painting made her emotional, and she didn't know why. She decided that he should see it, that is if he had the time.

    @lin-Manuel
      Thanks for being my muse this evening. Congratulations on opening on Broadway, for the second time as I now know. I'll admit I haven't listened to Hamilton yet but I can't wait to. I can only hope you're taking the time to experience my creation it's only fair that I return the favour.

   She tweeted it out with a smile, collapsing into the old, tattered and broken rocking chair. She let her head fall back, hitting the chair. Her eyes shut and breathing evened. She was almost asleep till she heard her phone notification sound from her lap.

    DM from @lin-Manuel...

No fucking way...

  A/N
So anyway, that happened. This character will be a bit of a Mary Sue (is that the right term) but there's not a lot of different ways yknow.
Incase you haven't caught on(I don't blame you my writing is shit) when text is off to the right side it's Genevieve's thoughts.
No time to proof read so if mistakes were made sorry.
❤️