With Jasmine's’ last minute illness, you were quickly ushered into costume and makeup as the stand-by for the Schuyler sister’s. You were fairly used to these last minute changes, and the chaos hardly affected you as this point.
The fact that you are Lin’s girlfriend helped wrap your mind around a fast-spinning world.
At the start of intermission a frantic stage manager approached you, on the verge of tears. Apparently, as a fun twist on this year’s Broadway Cares shows some of the women of the cast volunteered for an auction for a date. Jasmine had been one of the women, and now that she was absent, there was a very noticeable gap to be filled.
“You can absolutely say no.” The look on her face really didn’t convince you.
“It is for a good cause.” You told her, which was met with a cheer and a string of frantic instructions - what to wear, what the ‘date’ would consist of, anything she could fit into the few minutes before you had to go back on stage.
“Thank you thank you thank you!” She gushed before running off to make all the necessary arrangements for you to be a part of the auction.
You laughed at her frantic-ness before trying to return to the head space needed to go back onstage.
“Next, we have current standby actress for the Schuyler Sisters. You know her, you love her, you’re impossibly jealous of Lin because he gets to go home with her every night…Y/N!” You were met with applause as you took the stage for the second time that day.
You waved, as you were told to do, and smiled as best you could without showing your exhaustion.
The theater was packed with all the big names in performing arts, everyone excited to be in the room and ready to put their money to good use.
“For a lovely, all expenses paid for dinner at New York’s famous Gramercy Tavern!” This was met with a collective ‘ooh’ from the audience, “You will also be accompanying Y/N on a night through some of New York’s most famous landmarks! Let’s start the bids at-”
‘I can’t believe I pulled out my Tony’s dress for this.’ Was the only thought you had as the bids began pouring in.
You were awestruck as the bids started teetering towards the $10,000 mark, easily breezing past it. Your eyes traveled through the crowd in an attempt to find Lin, who you assumed would be ecstatic for the great things his show was doing for this charity.
You watched as he fidgeted in his seat, growing more agitated as the bids continued. His final straw was when a rather good-looking, young man in a Giorgio Armani bid $15,000 with a smirk.
“$16,000.” Lin stood, holding up his sign with a death glare to the man.
“$17,000.” The man said, unwilling to back down. The room was now focused on this back and forth, most of your cast members finding it particularly hysterical.
“$20,000.” Armani shot back.
“$50,000” Lin spat, a finality to his voice no-one in the room could try to combat. The man in the Armani suit threw his hands up in defeat, finally silenced and now knowing better than to challenge Lin when it came to you.
The room erupted in various reactions - gasps, laughter from the crew, general cheers of joy from the people running the auction.
“$50,000! Going once? Twice?” Lin glared around the room, ready to take on anyone who dared speak up. “Sold!”
You were escorted off the stage and to him, just as the women who had gone before you had been.
“$50,000?” You asked, completely dumbfounded.
“I know, I’m sorry. We should talk before I even think about spending that much money but the way he was looking at you-” He gushed, aggravated and disgusted by the man that nearly took you out.
“That was so hot!” You cried.
“My man stood up for me.” You teased, “And it only cost him $50,000.”
“For a very worthy cause.” He reminded you.
“Thank you, that guy kinda gave me the creeps, anyways.” Your eyes found him by an auction table, being aggressively turned down by a group of dancers. You scanned up and down his frame, realizing that the longer you took him in, the more you were thankful to Lin for getting you out of a night with him.
Lin watched you shoot disgusted looks towards the man and found his pride immediately swelling at the thought that you would be going home with him that night - and every night following.
“I’m going to write a $50,000 check and then I’m going to take you home and…” His voice grew quieter, pulling you close to whisper private words huskily into your ear. Your eyebrows shot up as he described just what the rest of your night would consist of.
You pulled back with a shiver down your spine and a certain tightness in your stomach.
“Let’s go home right now.” You insisted, tugging at his sleeve as you rushed out, not even caring that you left your purse backstage and that everyone around you knew exactly what you were off to do. “I owe you a $50,000 night.”
Lin was now just as excited to get home as you were, sending rushed goodbyes to the people in your general vicinity and making sure he had at least his keys in his pocket.
Prompt: Best Man Lin sneaks alcohol to a wedding and asks a lonely Y/N for a dance.
Pairing: Lin x reader
A/N: It’s here! This is my longest fic EVER. This was inspired by the pictures from the Chicago magazine that, at the moment, I can’t seem to think of. But I KNOW you guys know what I’m talking about. The one with the blue suit? Lin was SO handsome in the pictures! Anywho, I hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think!
Three months ago, you received a wedding invitation from your childhood best friend. Even though you and Amelia have drifted apart over the years, you still remember your silly teenage conversations with her about the “perfect” wedding. With a quick glance at the beautiful gothic-styled church, you were delighted to find it was exactly what she imagined it to be.
You fidgeted nervously in your car, watching as strikingly dressed couples and families made their way to the church.
You’ve never been to a wedding alone before.
You tried not to linger on the last minute cancellation from your plus one, but you couldn’t help to feel anxious as you watched strangers pass your car. Other than her family members, you didn’t know a single person at the wedding.
Mustering up all your courage, you climbed out of your car, smoothing down the invisible wrinkles on your nude colored dress. You started to walk towards the church, smiling politely at the people you passed.
At the entrance, people were gathered around a table, signing the guest book. Three men donning blue suits and white button-up shirts were off to the side, greeting guests as they passed them.
Must be the groomsmen, you thought, giggling quietly at their contagious energy and gleaming smiles.
Seeing that the table was finally free, you stepped forward to examine the book. Guests signed their names and added a brief message to the couple. You tapped the pen against the table, pondering on what to write.
“Hi, are you with the groom or the bride?”
You turn towards the voice, surprised to find one of the groomsmen next to you.
He was handsome, with a five o’clock shadow and perfectly quaffed hair. An easy smile was on his lips, radiating a friendly attitude.
“The bride,” you say, returning his smile. “I was a childhood friend of Amelia’s,” you explain at his quirked brow.
“I’m Henry’s cousin,” the man, whom you officially dubbed Mr. Handsome, replies.
Silence settles in between the two of you, and the same uncertainty that you’ve felt earlier started to creep up your spine.
“Here, don’t forget to grab the bubbles,” he says suddenly, taking a couple bottles from a basket beside the guest book. “We’re going to use them after the ceremony.”
You accept them, chuckling, and tuck them into your clutch. “Thank you.”
He grins and was about to say something further when a frazzled young woman holding a clipboard grasped his arm and tugged him towards the other groomsmen.
“Pictures! We need pictures before the ceremony,” she urges, voice shrill.
Mr. Handsome barely had time to wave goodbye to you before he was ushered outside.
(Rap) is uniquely suited to tell Hamilton’s story. Because it has more words per measure than any other musical genre. It has rhythm, and it has *density*. And if Hamilton had anything in his writing, it was density.
Lin-Manuel Miranda, explaining how rap is the storytelling poetry of our time. Like Akala, he knows Shakespeare got nothin’ on rap.