A Hamilton (The Musical) Fanfiction

Aaron Burr, Sir

Have you ever wondered what it was like to be a woman fighting in the war? This is my story, and let me tell you, it's not about unicorns and rain­bows; it's about bloodshed and heartbreak, and not everyone survives to the end.

My story begins in 1772 when I arrived in America with a close friend, Alexan­der Hamilton, determined to fight in the war between America and England. Of course, we didn't think we'd get as far as we did, but we were only 19 and 18 at the time. Alexander, like all men at the time, was concerned that I would be hurt or killed if I joined the war, but being the stubborn person that I am, no one could stop me from embarking on my adventure once I set my mind to it.

We were in New York now, and we decided to celebrate by going to a bar later that night with the rest of the money we had. On our way, Alexan­der stopped to talk to a dark-skinned man who appeared to have just gradu­ated from college.

„Pardon me, are you Aaron Burr, sir?" I overheard Alexander say that the man appeared perplexed and terrified as to why this stranger was speak­ing to him. As someone slammed into me and threw me to the ground, I tuned out their conversations.

When I looked up, a curly brown haired lady in a yellow gown with brown eyes looked down at me, guilty eyes searching me up and down for bruises. When she saw that I was unharmed, she reached out her hand and assisted me in brushing the dirt off of my dress.

"I'm sorry, Miss, I didn't notice you there." She said this with a genuine smile and apology. "My name is Margarita Schuyler, but you can call me Peggy." What's your name, as you appear to be new around here?" She in­quired.

I gave her a genuine smile as I looked up at her. "My name is Amalia Por­ter, and I recently moved here with a friend. There's no need to apologise for running into me; I wasn't paying attention either." I reassured her, assist­ing her in releasing the guilt that was building up inside her.

We talked for a while longer, and she introduced me to her sisters, Ange­lica and Eliza, who were both as beautiful as she was and as wealthy as everyone else in town except me and Alex, or so it seemed. We ex­changed addresses so we could write letters to each other, but they soon excused themselves, saying they had to leave. I wasn't alone for long be­fore Alex tapped me on the shoulder and whisked me back to the apart­ment with the most brilliant idea ever.

"So, because people will give you the death stare if they see a woman en­ter a bar full of men, and I don't want you to be sexually abused by drunks, I came up with the best idea ever." He said this while handing me a man's outfit. "Wear this and tie your hair up; you'll disguise yourself as a man and avoid drawing attention to yourself." He completed his task.

"Can you tell me where you got this outfit?"

"It's unimportant, just get dressed, I'll wait for you outside," he said, and then he left.

I put on the man disguise, which was a little loose on me, but I managed to tuck it in enough that you couldn't see my body frame underneath it at all. I also tied my hair up in a poufy ponytail, matching Alex's less orga­nised man ponytail, and I worked on getting my voice lower.

When I got outside, I punched Alexander in the shoulder and proudly dis­played my outfit.

"I wouldn't have recognised you if I hadn't known you were going to do this." He informed me.

"Yeah, smartass, but you forgot to include an important detail in your plan." I told him, smacking him on the back of the head.

"What exactly is that?" He inquired, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I can't go around dressed as a man and call myself Amalia or Leah." I in­formed him (DUUH). "Have you considered Laurence Porter?" I inquired of him.

"Do I have the right to call you Laurie?"