Hamilton College : A Very ~smexy~ AU

CHAPTER 1 - Friend?

I RUSH OUT of one of the shittiest cabs I've ever seen in my entire life. I'm practically tripping over myself while exiting, desperately trying to get onto the nearby street as quick as possible. The $5 bill I haphazardly threw at her most definitely did not cover my bill, but it's all I had. And how could she ever turn down a poor orphan boy? I pray for the first time in a while that she doesn't chase after me. Perhaps the tragic backstory speil I gave her worked? And as I look anxiously behind me, I can see it indeed has, just like it always does.  The car is half way down the road, with no sign of coming back. Turn on the charm and mention a few dead loved ones and they cry at your feet, never afraid to throw a poor dog a bone. People love feeling like heroes, they'll throw money at any kid without a mum or dad. I'd like to say I don't like being their charity case, but damn does it work well for me.

    The sidewalk I stumble into was surprisingly empty, most look like herds of stampeding bulls. Sounds from Time Square drifted through my ears, which feels like a personal affront to my being. Various separate instruments from (fellow) struggling college students trying to make some cash make a headache-inducing level of noise, playing a song I've probably heard but just can't recognize. Sometimes I wish the "City That Never Sleeps" would take a fucking Melatonin. Christ, this hangover will be the death of me. Probably wasn't a great idea to party so hard before an early flight, but my brother insisted I savor every last minute of freedom. Some genius he is.

    Luckily the college isn't too far away, so I won't have to hear them for much longer. I'd like to walk faster, act like I'm excited for this new life, for all these opportunities I've been gifted, but my intestines seem to have French-braided themselves together. I have no idea why I'm so nervous, I was practically clawing my way out of the airport to get here as fast as possible. It all just feels real now, I guess. I comb a finger through my hair, deep brown an inch past my shoulders. In my haste I forgot to tie it back, so it's frayed around the scalp. I'm sure I look crazy, but I couldn't care less at the moment. I'm sure college kids are nice, right? Probably not. What if I get bullied? What if I face so much harassment I have to transfer schools? Is it like the American high schools I've seen on T.V., or are those just cheap tropes they use to make a profit because it's what audiences are familiar with? Why am I thinking about American television? What the hell's the matter with me?

    In my panic, I didn't realize I made a wrong turn about 2 blocks ago, so now I have no idea where I'm going. My phones in my pocket sitting at 12% and I'd rather use that last bit for registration, so I've been going by instinct so far. Fuck, how the hell do I get to 116th and Broadway from W 120th?! I curse myself under my breath for not paying attention, not really paying attention to where I'm going, when I run directly into a pedestrian, spilling his coffee everywhere.

    "Oh shit, I'm so sorry!" I apologize fervently, picking up the now empty Starbucks cup that flew out of his hands.

    He grumbles an affirming noise. "That's alright...damn college kids.."

    I whip my face to him, about to curse him out for being such a dick. It was a simple mistake, for gods sake! But then I realize he knows I'm a college kid.

    "Actually, do you... happen to know of Kings College?" I ask, suddenly and unexpectedly timid.

    The man stares at me like I asked him what color the sky is. "I know of it. Im on my way there now, actually," He glances down at his coffee covered shirt, grimacing, "or was. Why, do you need directions? You're going the wrong way, you know."

    "Right, yes, could you walk me there? Oh, and my names Alex. Alexander Hamilton." I hold my hand out for him to shake it, but he just sort of stares at me. I shove it back in my pocket.

    "I guess I could."

    I smile brightly at him, sure to use my charm to my advantage. Who could resist these dimples? But it seems to have no effect on him, for he just walks right past, not even checking if I'm following. I rush to catch up with him, suitcases clinking behind and getting occasionally stuck on cracks in the sidewalk.

    "I just moved here from St. Croix. Beautiful island, terrible people. Well, they're not all terrible, but a good amount. Just like here in the Big Apple! Do they call it the Big Apple here, or is that just tourist propaganda? Wait, does that qualify as propaganda? Hmm...oh wait, I just realized I never got your name!" He's silent for so long I think he doesn't hear me, so I ask again, "Sir? What's your name? Maybe we're roommates or something...wait, you're probably older than me. So probably not...sir?"

    He stops walking abruptly to face me, so quick I almost bump into him. "Listen. You talk a lot. Far too many words to say to a stranger. Can I offer you some advice?"

    I look at him dumbfounded. "Sure."

    "Talk less. Smile more." I guess the smile won him over after all. But "talk less"? Who the hell does this guy think he is?

    "Excuse me?"

    "Don't be so open with everyone. Not every stranger has to know your backstory." I straighten my back, suddenly feeling the need show dominance like I need to prove myself to this prick.

    I hold my ground against him. "I didn't tell you my life story," I say, but it comes out more petulant than dominant.

    He gives me a look that says uh huh, sureeee... and continues our journey. I stay silent the rest of the way, but only because I want to be. Not because he told me so and I'm ashamed. Definitely.

    We turn a corner and I see an impossibly large college campus. Hardly looks like a college campus, more like some kind of epicenter of worldly knowledge. Three long and fashionable ponds sit neatly in front of the main building, outlined by beautifully carved hedges of green. The pattern red and white brick transitions to a concrete pathway leading to each one of the buildings, hundreds of students crowding them already. I stare wide-eyed at the gorgeous architecture, expecting the stranger to do the same, but he just walks right on like he sees it everyday. How could anyone not marvel at this?

    For the first time since we started walking, he looks back to see if I'm behind him. "Trust me, it gets old after a while," he says pointedly, not even sparing a glance at the beauty in front of his face.

    I gape openly at him, shocked. "How could this," I gesture to the ponds now displaying some kind of water show in front of us, "get old?"

    He sighs and motions me forward, like I'm some misbehaving child in need of controlling. "Come on, let's go," he huffs.

    "You're going in like that?" I point to the giant spill down his button-up. I'd reckon it's more latte than shirt.

    "Shit," He mumbles, pulling a brown pullover from his book bag and putting it on. Hiding brown with brown. Lovely.

    "If you wanted brown you could have just kept on the button up."

    He scoffs at me. "Are you always this much of a dick?"

    "Are you?"

    The stranger stares at me with furrowed brows for a moment, and I almost think he's going to punch me, but he simply turns away and keeps walking along the pathway.

    And we're off once again.