1) I aged Alex up since his bday passed
2) This has been In my drafts since January, I'm sorry
3) The picture has no relation to the chapter, but I drew it and I love it

Year 2020

Alexander Hamilton
Age 21

John hasn't talked much since he kicked me out of his dorm a couple weeks ago. I tried asking Angie or Peggy about it, but they refused to tell me, saying something about how John should be the one to tell.

I've tried to keep myself from asking him, since he seems to be pretty shaken up about whatever happened, and every time the day or Francis is mentioned, he starts freaking out, and only Peggy or Angie can calm him down.

I was laying in my bed, writing an essay on my computer, when Hercules walked in and flopped on his bed, not bothering to close the door, which was unusual.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, getting up and closing the door. "You never leave the door open."

"Why must people have emotions." Herc complained, his voice muffled from the bed.

I chuckled, sitting on his bed, carful not to sit on my friend. "What happened?"

"I was at lunch with James, Thomas, and Lafayette-"

"Oh, I see." I teased. "Does someone have a crush?"

Herc moves his head up to give me a dirty look. "No, now can I finish?"

I nodded.

"Okay, anyways, James and Thomas were talking, and Laf and I were sitting there awkwardly, and then he showed me a picture of his brother, I guess, then said something like 'Mon freer n'état-il pas un babe si mignon?' or whatever, and it was just so cute, and ugh!" He put his head back down on the pillow, in a similar fashion a teenage girl would when complaining about something.

I chuckled, which caught Herc off guard.

"What?"

"It's pronounced 'Mon frère n'était-il pas un bébé si mignon?', and it's french for 'Wasn't my brother such a cute baby?'" I explained.

"I keep forgetting that you speak French." Herc commented, sitting up. "Maybe you can be my wingman."

"Wingman~?" I teased, wiggling my eyebrows.

Herc rolled his eyes. "Shut up. Thomas said that Lafayette is still learning English, and isn't great at it, and I need a translator."

"Thomas is fluent in French, ya know." I groaned.

"I know, but I barely even know him."

"And you're just besties with Lafayette?"

"No, but I would like to have a decent conversation with him."

I smirked. "Do you have a crush?"

Herc rolled his eyes. "Pfft, no." He got up and opened the door. "On an unrelated note, I'm gonna go meet up with Lafayette and Thomas at Starbucks. You can come if ya want."

"Will you buy me coffee?" I asked.

"If you'll be my translator."

"Deal."

~<•>~ Boopity Blip, it's a timeskip ~<•>~

3rd person

Hercules and Alexander walked into the nearby Starbucks, immediately spotting the tall poof and his slightly shorter poof of a cousin. The two men walked over to the poofs, sitting down across them.

"Uh, hey guys." Hercules said, waving. "Y'all remember Alex, right?"

"Barely." Thomas replied.

"Oh, tu es la rousse qui buvait ce soda, non?" Lafayette asked, not realizing that he reverted to french.
(Oh, you're that redhead that was drinking that soda, right?)

Alexander nodded, smiling. "Oui! Soit dit en passant, vous devriez porter des hauts courts plus souvent. Ils te vont bien."
(Yep! You should wear crop tops more often, by the way. They look good on you.)

Lafayette blushed while Thomas snickered. "M-Merci."

"What?" Hercules asked, clueless.

Alexander shook his head, chuckling himself. "Nothing."

"So, Uh, what do y'all do for work?" Hercules asked the cousins. "I'm a tailor."

"I'm trying to get an interview at a law firm nearby." Thomas replied after translating the question to his cousin.

"Im prévoyant d'aller à l'armée dans un avenir proche." Lafayette said. "Peut-être au cours de la prochaine année."
(Im planning on going to the military in the near future-Maybe in the next year or so)

"The army?" Alexander copied. "I currently don't have a job. Mostly focusing on school, ya know?"

"But what are you planning to do once you're done with school?" Thomas asked.

Alexander shrugged. "I'd love to be the president, but if we're being realistic, I'm gonna be a lawyer."

Thomas and Hercules chuckled slightly, leaving Lafayette, who only understood about half of that sentence, clueless.

~<•>~ Lots of Boring "getting to know you" shit later ~<•>~

Later that day, the two cousins were walking back to their apartment (aka James' apartment which they claimed), talking.

"What'd you think about Hercules?" Thomas asked.

Lafayette shrugged. "There were a lot of....um.... Barrière de la langue between us."
(Language barriers)

"Hm, he seems quite friendly to me." Thomas countered. "I mean, he looks like he could kick my ass, and he probably could, but he's very shy and friendly."

"Does someone have a la séduction~?" Lafayette teased, making his older cousin roll his eyes.
Crush)

"Psh, no." Thomas rebutted. "Anyways, what'd you think of Alexander?"

"Hm, he's quite.... charmant, don't you think?" Lafayette said. "And he knows french, which is a plus."
(Charming)

Thomas nodded. "He's kinda annoying though. Always talkin'."

Lafayette shrugged. "I guess."

867 words

I didn't know what to do for an ending, sorry.

I didn't know what to do for this chapter at all, if I'm honest. I've had this in my drafts since January, and since it's kinda Mullette related, I decided to post it around Valentine's Day, so yeah.  (Yes, I know I'm late)

Also, I looked it up, and apparently Lafayette had an older brother named Michel Louis Christophe Roch Gilbert Motier, Marquis de Lafayette.

Where did their parents get their names, and why did they decide to torture their children this way?

So here's a random quote from Hamilton that I just love;

"You reproach me with not having said enough about our little stranger. When I wrote last I was not sufficiently acquainted with him to give you his character. I may now assure you... [h]e is truly a very fine young gentleman, the most agreeable in his conversation and manners of any I ever knew—nor less remarkable for his intelligence and sweetness of temper. You are not to imagine by my beginning with his mental qualifications that he is defective in personal. It is agreed on all hands, that he is handsome, his features are good, his eye is not only sprightly and expressive but it is full of benignity. His attitude in sitting is by connoisseurs esteemed graceful and he has a method of waving his hand that announces the future orator. He stands however rather awkwardly and his legs have not all the delicate slimness of his fathers. It is feared He may never excel as much in dancing which is probably the only accomplishment in which he will not be a model. If he has any fault in manners, he laughs too much. He has now passed his Seventh Month. [3]"
— Alexander Hamilton, Letter to Richard Kidder Meade, August 27, 1782, describing a 7-month old Philip Hamilton

Basically, Alex is praising his 7-month old, saying that he has good behavior, incredibly smart, and is handsome, while also saying that  he has chonky legs and wouldn't be good in dancing.
Do you see why I love this so ducking much?