A/N : so I'm finally updating. I was writing this in a notebook because I feel accomplished when I write on paper and I somehow got pencil on my face and it won't come off and it looks like I have a gray mustache whoops. Also when people decide 11pm is a good time to set off fireworks for no reason like stfu. I mean it's not like I'm sleeping but still. Meh. Wrote this instead of my English essay, #sorrynotsorry

Year: 2015

Your age: 25

Lin's age: 35

POV: You

"EVERYONE GIVE IT UP FOR THE MAID OF HONOR," your phone sang loudly, waking you up from a good dream you were having. You groaned and rolled over. You couldn't quite remember what it was about, though. That seemed to happen to you a lot, and you always just remembered one small detail. This time, a pine cologne filled your memories although you couldn't smell in dreams so that didn't make any sense.

You blinked and rubbed your eyes sleepily. It only took you a moment before you fucking leaped out of bed. Oh my god. Oh my god. It was December 30th. YOU WERE PHOTOGRAPHING HAMILTON, A.K.A THE GREATEST MUSICAL IN EXISTENCE. Fangirling aggressively, you flew around the hotel room and somehow ended up the floor near your suitcase desperately digging through the clothes you had yet to unpack, looking for the black laced dress you had gotten the day you were hired. You had been saving it ever since, and as you continued to search you prayed it wasn't too wrinkled. 

After creating a mountain of clothes on the hotel floor, a puddle in the bathroom, and a bit of mess around the sink, you had showered, slipped into your (slightly wrinkled) dress, put on a pair of shin-length black sandal, dried and straightened your fiery red hair, and almost successfully applied make-up. Including eye-liner which you usually failed at miserably.

A series of pings ensued from your phone. You giggled, knowing it was one of your best friends, Tatum. If it wasn't for her you would probably barely get any texts to be honest. You had been granted to bring six of your friends along backstage, and for the show for free. So naturally, outside your hotel room was parked a large black jeep filled with three estastic pieces of hamiltrash named Kacey, Tatum, and Ellie, as well as three less excited, normal people named Victoria, Jacqueline, and Sophia.

Tate: WE

Tate: ARE

Tate: HERE

Tate: GET YOUR LAZY

Tate: FATASS OUT HERE

Tate: OR I WILL DROP-KICK YOU OFF A CLIFF

Tate: IMPERSONATE YOU

Tate: AND TAKE YOUR JOB

You shrieked with excitement a little, still not quite believing this was really happening. Your stomach did backflips, front flips, cartwheels, and everything in between as you tried to think of what you were going to say when you met some of the most talented people in the world. You glanced at the time and rolled your eyes.

Me: You do realize your half an hour early, right?

Tate: M8

Tate: HAMILTON👏🏻LIN👏🏻PIPPA👏🏻JAZZY👏🏻RENEE👏🏻GROFFSAUCE👏🏻DAVEED👏🏻OAK👏🏻 LESLIE👏🏻ANTHONY👏🏻CHRIS👏🏻LITERALLY EVERYONE ELSE IN THE CAST👏🏻US👏🏻MEETING👏🏻THEM👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻

Tate: there is no such thing as early on an occasion like this.

Tate: no such thing.

Me: True tho

You grinned, checked your make-up in the mirror one last time (unintentional reference woot), slung your equipment over your shoulder, and skipped out the door.

A/N: sorry that chapter was so short and sucky,  it was sort of a filler. Thanks for reading❤❤ Love you all, comment thoughts and advice