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.

You had always been very popular around New York, and all around really. For a few reasons; you were attractive, charming, always wore fancy clothes, generous, practically a genius and extremely rich. So many girls had crushes on you and other people your age envied you. You were just.. perfect. Even Philip found you attractive but he would rather die than ever admit it.

You were just walking home from something you were doing for work, and it was raining, and you were walking pretty fast to get home soon. You were wearing one of your most fancy jackets that your dad got you, it was magenta velvet with golden lace, it went down to about your thighs and many small shiny details.

When you were walking, you saw Philip Hamilton, your rival. He was walking slowly down the sidewalk and he was completely soaked. What do you do?