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There will be a day when Alexander Hamilton will take the world by storm with a single, flawless run-through of "Pastorale" by Le Couppey. There will be a day when he will push the bench backward in his haste to finish his piece with a flourish. There will be a day when he will stare at the beads of sweat coating the black and white keys as thunderous applause wash over him. There will come a day when the name Alexander Hamilton will be known by every adult and child in America and beyond.
Today was not that day.
So far his name was known by a maximum of 20 people, 22 if he counted the baristas in the local coffee shop. 10 years ago he was an aspiring young artist, desperate to rise above his station just to do something with his life. His 19-year-old self, if he had the opportunity to see his future self, would have been sorely disappointed. He would have asked so many questions that he himself was tired of hearing from others.
What happened to your dream?
Why did you stop?
How have you become like this?
His answer to every single one of them was “I don’t know.”
He wished he knew why he stopped. He wished he knew where his dream became the harsh reality he now faced. He wished he knew how he went from a promising piano student at 19 to a lonely, bitter, debt-ridden 29-year-old cleaning up discarded sheet music after pretentious orchestra members from the south. By pretentious orchestra members, he meant Thomas fucking Jefferson. “Oh and Hamilton?” the man of the hour called out to him with a condescending tone.
Alex froze in his haste to get out the door. Jefferson shifted his huge cello case slightly and leaned against it with a smirk. “There are a few more cymbals that need cleaning in the back. Peggy forgot about them. Clean them before you leave, will you?” If he wasn’t so broke and desperate to keep his apartment, this would have been the last straw for him. He would have punched Jefferson ages ago. He could do it right now.
But he couldn’t. He can’t. He can’t lose this job.
“Yes, sir,” Alexander said through his teeth and he was grateful that Jefferson didn’t leave with a parting insult. It didn’t stop him from sticking his tongue out at him as he left. No one saw that anyway. “Stupid Jefferson and his stupid fucking face. I can’t wait to get out of here.” Alex placed his bag and the bundles of sheet music he had on one of the chairs before heading to the back room to look for those cymbals.
“I mean sure, man. I’ll meet you at the bar later.”
Alex practically swan dove into the supply closet the minute he heard voices outside. He hit his head on one of the cymbals he was supposed to clean and tried not to curse out loud as the voices got louder.
“You better. A Jefferson party ain’t complete without you.”
Jefferson. Of course, he’s back.
“I’m pretty sure I don’t contribute anything entertaining to your parties, Jeff.”
Alex’s view was limited to only Jefferson’s designer boots and someone else’s pristinely polished Oxfords. He moved a little bit to the right to try and get a better view on who Jefferson was with but his sight was blocked by the man’s butt in front of the closet. He was tempted to poke him with one of the drumsticks when he wouldn’t move away. “Your face itself is very entertaining, my friend! Don’t be a wallflower. Mingle this time, eh? Talk with the ladies.”
“I’ll try.”
The other man’s voice sounded familiar but he couldn’t quite place who it was. Obviously, it was someone in the orchestra. Could he be a cellist like Jefferson? Maybe he was percussion? “Alright brother, you got everything you need?”
“Not yet. You go ahead, alright? Still have to find a few more piano pieces to practice at home.”
“Can’t you just download them online?” Jefferson sounded almost disgusted and Alex had to roll his eyes.
“Where’s the fun in that? Go ahead. I’ll catch up.” Alex assumed Jefferson shrugged his shoulders and finally left the practice room. Unfortunately, his mystery man was still wandering aimlessly around the room. Alex watched as the man paced around the room for a bit, paused in the middle, and started walking to the lone piano at the side of the room. Alex would have gone closer if it weren’t for the filthy cymbals in his way.
It turned out that he didn’t need to see. He only needed to listen.
The familiar starting notes of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata echoed around the room and caressed Alexander like a mother would her child. The harmonies floated into his ears and soothed his overworked brain to a mere halt. He stopped for once and listened. He stopped for once and wished the world would never move again. The melody stayed the same but some of the harmonies were improvised, further making Alexander want to stay in this moment forever and listen to the unknown man play the piano for hours on end.
Soon enough he stopped and the man’s footsteps startled him enough to open his eyes.
Alex waited until the sound of his footsteps became fainter before he pushed himself out of the closet. He practically ran to the door and only caught the glimpse of the man’s Oxfords before he turned the corner. The swish of his black overcoat was the last thing he saw before he disappeared. He leaned his back against the doorframe and tried to catch his own breath. Who was that guy? How has he never paid attention to him in orchestra practice? He has never been so oblivious to such wonderful talent.
Alexander forgot all about the cymbals that needed cleaning when he left the room. The mysterious man’s Moonlight Sonata played over and over in his head until he finally fell asleep.
The next day, Alexander was the first one in the room.
He placed his bag in his usual spot, the back corner of the room behind Angelica Schuyler who played the violin, and his eyes drifted towards the piano. His heart constricted as the memory of him walking out of the music program played in his head. He turned away, tears in his eyes and regret in his heart. He was stupid. He was so fucking stupid. If he just listened. If he just watched where he was going, he would be halfway across the world by now.
He would have started his legacy.
Still, his feet took him towards the piano. As much as he wanted to forget, he couldn’t. How could one forget the sense of achievement when one perfects a piece they have been practicing for weeks? How can one forget the feeling of the keys at his fingertips, waiting for him to play a song that would blow everyone away. How could one forget the pain? How could one forget the exhilaration? How could one live without music in his heart and music in his soul? How could he have survived this much without playing one song?
With determination, Alexander went back to his spot and took out a crumpled piece of sheet music in his bag. It was, surprisingly, Moonlight Sonata and Alexander almost laughed. No matter. He jogged over to the piano again and placed the sheet music neatly on the stand. Just because he was basically the Orchestra’s waterboy, it doesn’t mean he hasn’t retained a lesson or two. He knew how to read notes. He knew how to sit and position his fingers. He could do this.
That was until he played the first few notes did he notice he was wrong.
He was flat.
Tears gathered in Alexander’s eyes as he tried harder and harder to read the notes properly but he fell flat every damn time. Soon enough he was tired of hearing himself and he cried out in frustration. He slid the piece off of its stand and the cacophony of notes from his hands crashing down on the unsuspecting piano keys filled the room with dissonance. The shiny puddles on the black and white keys were not his sweat from exhilaration but his tears of disappointment.
Of course, he couldn’t do it. What the hell was he thinking?
“Pardon me, are you alright sir?”
Alex jumped at the sound of a voice behind him and he turned around to see who caught him in this pathetic act of self-deprecation. “I-I’m sorry, sir. I know I’m not supposed to be playing with any of the instruments o-or using any of them. I’m sorry. I’m… I’ll get out of your wa--” He stood up and two hands gripped his shoulders to root him to the spot.
“You don’t have to be sorry.” The man’s eyes were shining bright with kindness and Alexander had to look away for fear of blinding himself. “Please, won’t you try again?”
“Come back to me in 10 years, maybe.” The sarcastic remark came out before he could stop it but the taller man didn’t seem fazed by it at all. The silence that he assumed was to follow didn’t come for the man led him by the hand back to the piano bench. He sat down next to him, pressed impossibly close to his side. “What are you doing?”
“I’m waiting.”
“For what?”
The man chuckled and Alex pouted. What was so funny? “I’m waiting for you to start.”
Oh.
“I-I need sheet music.” He tried to reach down for the discarded pieces of paper when a soft hand gripped his wrist gently. He was slowly pulled back until he was face to face with him, close but far enough for personal space to still be a real thing.
“No, you don’t. Just feel it.” Alex stared at the man with his mouth open before he decided he looked stupid and closed his mouth. He turned back to the keys, still wet with his tears from a few minutes prior to his current dilemma, and placed his shaking fingers on top of them. The man was staring at him with kind eyes and a warm smile that encouraged him to keep going. “It’s alright. Play a song.”
The sound of the door opening stopped him from embarrassing himself. He jumped up from the bench as fast as he could and gathered up the crumpled pieces of paper on the floor. “I-I’m sorry, sir.” He whispered as the man crouched down next to him to help. “Maybe next time? You have better things to do anyway.” He handed Alex one of the pages of sheet music and he smiled at him. Alex tried not to stare too long.
“I’ll make sure there is a next time then.”
Before Alex could respond, Eliza Schuyler’s voice from across the room reached their ears. “Aaron, come here! I have to show you something!” Alex ducked his head as the man, Aaron, stood up and made his way across the room to Eliza. He finished up gathering the sheet music and threw them all in the trash bin. He didn’t need them. It was just a petty dream he was too stupid to see would never come true. Beethoven has never made him feel more insecure.
The conductor/trainer was the last one to enter the room and everyone sat down to get started. Alex stayed relatively quiet, sketching in his notebook the silhouettes of the orchestra members on the floor filling the first half of the page he was currently on. He only stood up to get something from the supply closet or cabinet when the conductor asked him to. Washington was a nice conductor. He never actually overexerted him as Jefferson did.
Washington just turned a blind eye whenever Jefferson or Madison would start riling him up. What mattered to him was that his troops, as he affectionately called the Orchestra, were well trained and well tuned. It didn’t matter if some of his members would abuse their personal assistant. He knew Washington saw it but he never did anything about it. The only ones nice to him were the Schuyler sisters and the pianist;
Aaron Burr.
He was the same guy who was with Jefferson yesterday. He figured it out when he stood up while he was gathering up the discarded papers on the floor. Oxfords. He was wearing Oxfords. They were same Oxfords he saw when he was talking to Jefferson yesterday. Aaron would sometimes look at the back of the room and wave at his direction. He wasn’t quite sure who he was waving at because there were about 5 other people who sat directly in front of him but he waved back nonetheless.
“So there will be a section in our concert where Aaron will play a solo piece if that is alright with everyone here?” Simultaneous noises of approval rose around the room and Aaron blushed at the praise. Washington patted Aaron on the back when the din died down before he continued on. “Our usual page turner got a job as a reader for a casting agency so she won’t be back with us until next fall.” Alexander pouted at that. Theodosia was a lovely woman. They sometimes got coffee together after practice.
“Hamilton?” Alex almost dropped his pencil when his name was called and he looked up from his notebook in surprise. Washington was looking at him hopefully and he gulped. The conductor was holding what Alex assumed was the piece Aaron was going to play. “Would you mind being Aaron’s page turner for the concert? It’s already in 2 weeks and it would be cruel to make him memorize it.” Alex stared at Washington for a full 15 seconds before he realized he needed to answer.
“Um… yeah! I mean, um, no! I-I mean, no I won’t mind turning the pages for him. I’ll do it.” He heard the distinct sound of Jefferson giggling and the sound of Aaron slapping Jefferson’s thigh to keep him quiet. Aaron beamed at him and automatically scooted a bit on the bench to allow some space for Alex to sit next to him. Alex took the piece from Washington who gave him a thankful nod and sat down next to Aaron.
Aaron softly bumped his shoulder with his and smiled at him.
Alex couldn’t help but smile back.
“I was thinking we could go back to my place to practice for the concert.”
The rest of the orchestra members left already and they were the only two left in the room. Aaron was slinging his bag over his shoulder and pressing his binder close to his chest but Alex was only staring at him. “Can you run that by me again, sir?”
“Alexander, you don’t have to call me sir. ” Aaron said before he chuckled. “And I was saying we can go back to my place to practice. That is if you want to.” Aaron looked a little worried that Alex would say no but how could he? It’s not like Aaron was a potential serial killer. He could be. Alex frowned a little bit at the thought that ran through his mind and he shook his head.
“Yeah… I think that would be good, si-” Aaron raised an eyebrow at him and he caught himself before he could fully say it. “I think that sounds nice, Aaron.” The pianist smiled at him and was already halfway out of the door before he realized Alex didn’t follow him. He gestured outside with his head and Alex told him he’ll catch up outside. “I still haven’t cleaned up the cymbals in the back room. Who knows what would happen if I don’t.”
“Oh, those cymbals are hopeless to clean. I’ve tried cleaning them myself and ended up crying for 30 minutes.” Alex blinked once before looking at the back room in disgust. Aaron continued to stand there in the doorway as Alex glared at the back room. Only one thing can be concluded from this.
Jefferson was a piece of shit.
For the next few days, Alex has been going back to Aaron’s apartment to practice. It wasn’t like he really needed to go. He was just a page turner after all. But Aaron insisted on doing other things besides practicing for the concert. After they do the piece about 10 times, with Aaron playing each round perfectly as always, he would switch places with Alex and make him play the piece as well. Each time, Alex would refuse.
Aaron was patient every time.
“You know you’re really good, right?”
“Who told you to say that? Was it Laurens?”
“No one. I’m saying this because it’s true.” Alex rolled his eyes and tucked his knees underneath his chin. He looked out the window of Aaron’s apartment but Aaron was only looking at him. Aaron didn’t quite understand why Alex refused to hone the talent he has. When he walked in on him playing the piano in the practice room, he was very impressed with the complexity he put into the otherwise very simple piece. That was until he saw that Alex was crying did he realize how real his emotion was.
And Aaron could understand why. Alexander was playing the notes, yes, but they were all flat.
“Alex, why don’t you try playing the piano again?” It was the same question he asked Alex every day since they started to practice together. Every time he asked him this he would get the same answer. It would always be I just don’t want to anymore.
This time, though, a long silence was his first answer. His real answer came out after he has worried his bottom lip in between his teeth for too long it would most probably bruise. “I-I can’t do it anymore, Aaron.” There was a huge difference between him not wanting to play anymore to him not being able to play anymore. “I just can’t. It’s so fucking stupid…” Aaron watched as Alex’s walls crashed down around him and he felt the urge to reach out and hold him.
He gave in to the urge when Alex started shaking.
He still refused to tell him why he couldn’t play anymore but Aaron decided to let it slide. Alex needed someone to hold him and tell him it was okay. He didn’t need someone to push him into something he didn’t want to do anymore. It didn’t mean that Aaron wasn’t concerned any less. As he held the trembling figure of Alexander in his arms, he wondered what happened to him that made him this scared little thing he was right now.
He wondered what made this star fall.
After a few minutes, Alexander’s sobbing reduced to sporadic sniffles. “I’m sorry.” His voice was tiny and Aaron ran a single hand through Alex’s hair.
“What did I say about apologies you don’t need to say?”
“I don’t need to say them?”
“There you go.” Aaron rubbed the smaller man’s back. “Do you want to talk about it? It’s alright if you don’t want to.” Alex was silent for the longest time and the lack of response worried Aaron tremendously. He wrung his hands repeatedly and even refused to meet Aaron’s eyes for 5 minutes. Aaron waited. That was the only way to make sure Alex was comfortable enough to speak with him. Even if he didn’t want to, Alex exposing such a vulnerable side of him after that time in the practice room was already an incredible feat.
“I want to,” Alex closed his eyes briefly before turning them towards Aaron. “I want to talk about it. I should just let it all out right?” Aaron didn’t respond but it seemed that he didn’t need to. Alex, for all his secrecy, immediately launched into a story that Aaron felt he couldn’t tell anyone until now. He caught the important parts like the alleyway where he was mugged and how scared he felt when he was rushed to the hospital.
He caught the part where Alex sat in his hospital bed, a scared and lonely 19-year-old, hearing the worst news a young, aspiring artist would never want to hear. He caught the part where the medical jargon turned into gibberish as he started crying again. “So now I’m tone deaf, Aaron. Tone deaf. And there is nothing they could do about it. I should be grateful I didn’t turn fully deaf but… oh god.” Aaron wrapped his arms around him again and allowed the small man to cry.
He could only imagine a young Alexander Hamilton with the stars in his eyes and the world at his disposal. He could only imagine the euphoria he felt when he was chosen for the music program. He could only imagine the absolute agony in that hospital room. He could only imagine such things. But he couldn’t have imagined the 29-year-old man sitting in the practice room. He couldn’t have imagined how the raw emotion and the grace the dissonance of his sharp and flat notes filled the air.
He couldn’t have imagined such a beautiful man.
Alex only needed to see it in himself.
“You are so much more than you think.” He whispered into Alex’s hair but the man’s sobs drowned out his voice.
The night of the concert came and Alex was nervous he would turn the page at the wrong time. In his head, the entire concert would go into chaos if he didn’t turn it right. He was pretty sure Aaron already memorized the piece but he insisted that Alex still sits next to him. It was comforting enough to know that Aaron trusted him to stay with him throughout the entire ordeal. He was only needed for one piece but Alex sat next to him the entire concert.
It was like Alex’s constant presence made him a better pianist.
That thought was silly. Aaron was already a great pianist before Alex started turning his pages for him. Heck, Aaron was already an acclaimed American pianist the same time Alex started having piano lessons at 19. Aaron just chose to play with the orchestra instead of pursuing a solo career because he enjoyed being surrounded by his friends more than eternal glory. He wanted to make music, not a legacy.
Alex learned from him that he only wanted to be remembered by the people that mattered. Aaron learned the very same from Eliza and Theodosia. Alex felt that sincerity every time he played his pieces. “Are you ready?” He asked Aaron when the curtains were starting to rise. Aaron looked at him briefly and smiled. The pianist took his hand and placed a single kiss on the back of his hand. Alex froze completely with his hand still hovering between them.
“With you here, I am.”
Oh god, he was flirting with me the entire time.
There was no time to think about it as the concert was starting. He watched, mesmerized, as his fingers flew across the keys with such grace and precision. He turned the page for him at just the right time and Aaron smiled at him gratefully. He managed not to look like an idiot in front of hundreds of people. He did, however, almost cough in the middle of Jefferson’s big solo in one of the pieces but he didn’t even have the heart to be sorry about it.
Alex’s favorite part was the medley of Mozart’s greatest hits.
It was his favorite because Aaron’s favorite composer was Mozart. He played Beethoven like a champ but the way he played Mozart was… softer and more intimate. It was like he was telling a story with each new note and measure. He relayed his emotions even in every rest and silence. The way he played Mozart was like the feeling of the sun on one’s skin on an early spring morning. It was crisp and clear yet unique in a sense that only Aaron Burr could play it this way.
When the concert ended and the auditorium was filled with nothing but cheers, Alex’s eyes were only on Aaron’s glowing face. Beads of sweat ran down his face and they lightly coated the black and white keys underneath his fingertips. He merely beamed at the crowd as they gave him and the orchestra thunderous applause.
He swore, in that exact moment, he fell in love.
Sure enough, Alexander wasn’t invited to Jefferson’s post-concert party.
He was okay with it. He was never invited to Jefferson’s parties. Not even when he was Jefferson’s page turner was he invited. He figured they would be too much for him anyway. He was friendly with the entire orchestra but he still felt like a stranger to them. He couldn’t play an instrument anyway. The piano certainly didn’t count anymore. All he did was turn the page for Aaron Burr. It wasn’t like he had the most important job in the world.
But when Aaron smiled at him across the room with the same eyes shining that held kindness he’s never experienced before, he felt important. Aaron held him and told him that he was so much more. He may not be able to play the piano but Aaron’s arms around him and his lips on the crown of his head felt infinitely better than eternal glory. He wanted more of Aaron’s touch, more of Aaron’s smile, more of Aaron’s words to wash over him and tell him he was enough.
The pianist made his way across the room, ignoring every other person, with his eyes solely on him. When Aaron was only mere inches away from him, Alex tried to hide his blush. Good lord, is he still flirting with me? Or did I just imagine that? “H-Hey.” Idiot, why did you stutter?
Aaron smiled. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
Aaron chuckled and shoved his hands in his coat pocket. “Hey.”
“What was that all about?” It came out of his mouth before he was able to stop it and Alex cursed himself for being so blunt. Well better that it was out now than never, right? “That thing you did to me before we started the concert? What the hell were you thinking? Did you want the concert to go badly?”
“I didn’t think it was a problem at the time.” Aaron sounded genuinely confused and maybe a little hurt. Jesus, this man is unpredictable. “I mean if you want me to back off then--” He started to walk away but Alex grabbed his arm before he could get any further. This was the complete opposite of what he wanted. If before he would do anything to become a famous pianist, he would now do anything to feel Aaron’s lips on his skin again. Maybe his lips would also find a different target in due time.
“N-No! Please stay! I just…” Alex took a deep breath before he continued on. “I didn’t think you would want someone like me.” Aaron stared at him for half a second before his lips broke into a smile. A small chuckle started deep in his throat before it came out in giggles. Alex was not amused as Aaron’s shoulders started shaking until his entire body was hunched down in laughter. Alex was blushing profusely and if the entire orchestra hadn’t already left for Jefferson’s party, he would have been more embarrassed.
“I don’t see what’s so funny.”
“I’m sorry it’s just…” Aaron let out another bout of laughter and Alex’s pout intensified. “God Alex,” The pianist wiped a few wayward tears from his eyes and took one of Alex’s hands in his own, the same hand he kissed before the concert. “Can I buy you a drink?” It seemed that Aaron was full of surprises today because Alex couldn’t think of a response. He merely stared at Aaron’s bright smile and kind eyes and he wondered what the fuck he did to get this guy to like him.
He didn’t understand why he was complaining. This was exactly what he wanted.
“That would be nice.”