Alexander supposed flying in an airplane was far better than sailing, though he wasn't fond of being so high off the ground, either. Initially, he thought it would be fascinating to be above all of the rest residing below, but once his ears started ringing, he decided that he would avoid flying for the rest of eternity, if at all possible.

Once he finally landed, he got off the blasted metal bird as soon as he was able, fighting mild nausea as he grabbed his worn duffel and slung it haphazardly over his shoulder. He let out a slow breath, fumbling around to grab his identification. 

It took him a while to get around the airport, the hoard of incoming and out-going passengers moderately overwhelming. He glanced down at the paper he had stuffed in his pocket, a name written down in his own unruly script. When he looked back up, he saw a young man, probably not a year or so Alexander's senior, holding a sign that read "ALEXANDER HAMILTON."

"You must be Aaron Burr, sir." Alexander approached the male, flashing a quick grin. The male glanced over Alexander shortly, then nodded. Burr shot back a smile, not speaking a word. "I'm Alexander Hamilton, sir." Alexander pointed to the paper sign.

"I had gathered that much. Welcome to America, Alexander." Ah, so this man could speak.

"I wasn't sure what I was supposed to expect. They just gave me a name and all, not that that's terrible, but you'd think they'd at least give me a photo, or even just a vague description!" Alexander laughed, the noise only a little (or, maybe a lot) awkward.

"Come along, Alexander." Burr rolled his eyes softly, folding the sign he was holding. 

What an odd picture they made, Burr dressed sharply in slacks and a buttoned shirt, holding himself with pride and Alexander in a too big pair of jeans and a faded long-sleeved top. Alexander looked the part of a new face to America, young and bright-eyed, only discovering how his life would begin in a whole new world of its own. 

"We'll miss our ride if you keep dawdling, Alexander," Burr called back to him as he became distracted by the bustle of people, along with the bright, small shops within the airport. Alexander scurried to catch up, his bag jostling against his shoulder. He was ushered, by Burr, into a car that promptly drove off once both passengers were inside. 

This was the beginning. And, for now, it was as bright as could be.