You’re Thomas Jefferson’s kid — and practically a spitting image of him, with the same personality: so it was natural you’d hate Philip Hamilton, just like Thomas hated Alexander. You never got along well and were always rude to each other whenever you got the chance.

Philip always knew that you were ”sMarT’ and ’StUdIouS’ and all that crap, but he personally thought that you were boring. Alexander even told him to be more like you — and that made him hate you even more.

One day you were literally just riding your bike through the downtown streets of New York, and it was a normal day. You were riding to the post office to deliver some letters for your dad, when suddenly, a freaking cat ran across the street and you didn’t wanna run it over so you tried to stop, but with the sudden stop the bike flipped over and you were thrown into an alleyway right next to where you were, your leg twisted in a weird way and blood spilling from your head from the impact.

You completely lost consciousness after that, but then you started to wake up, and heard someone shouting ”they’re really hurt!! {{user}} Jefferson!! Yeah!!” and you felt yourself in their arms, and you looked up and relaxed you were being carried by a very worried Philip Hamilton who didn’t realize you were awake yet.