I'm so sorry for this - it's 12:10am and I'm actually feeling pretty suicidal so why not vent it out with your favorite characters...? I'm sorry.

Mention. Suicide, suicidal feelings/thoughts, cutting, graphic depictions of blood.

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Anthony's POV

He was laying in bed, in his apartment, alone, when it happened. Well, when the thoughts decided to invade anyways.

You're not worth it..

Why do you keep trying?

She doesn't love you

Faker

Anthony bit his lip, his chin trembling as he struggled from not crying as the haunting voices flooded his mind, taunting.

Jasmine loved him, he was sure.

The stolen kisses, the looks from afar, those late-night talks and laughs, the cuddles... She meant all of it, right?

Right?

Kill yourself...

He let out more sobs as the voices continued, believing each lie they told so easy.

No-one will notice.

They wouldn't notice. He was just a placeholder  in the grand scheme of life.

Go to the bathroom..

To do what?

grab a razor...

He let out a broken sob, sitting up in his bed and curling up into a ball, tears falling down his freckled cheeks only to land on his arms, which slid down to drop onto the sheets.

Jasmine had left the apartment early that afternoon to hang out with Reneé and Pippa - she didn't know about any of this. She knew nothing of the sobbing that wracked her 25-year-old boyfriend's body when she wasn't there, of the thoughts that begged, no, demanded his death over, and over again.

She wouldn't even know of his death, if it happened. Would only find out too late.

Do it. Do it. Do IT. DO IT. DO IT.  DO IT. DO IT. DO IT.

The voices screamed in Anthony's head as he stumbled off of the bed and over to the bathroom, hardly noticed the tears that were falling down his face.

Several minutes later he still hardly noticed.

Hardly noticed the splatters and droplets of blood on the tile floor.

Hardly noticed the opening and closing of the front door, the friendly call of Jasmine Cephas-Jones announcing that she was home.

"Anthony? Where are-" she stopped dead in her tracks, a frown making its way onto her face as she heard sobbing coming from the bedroom.

She entered the room, only to find the sheets all messed up and out of place, and a tiny crack of light that was linked to the bedroom. The sobs were much louder from the bathroom.

She opened up the door, gasping at the sight.

Anthony was curled up in a ball, against the cabinet that was located under the sink, a semi-bloody razor at his feet, blood trickling down his arms and onto the floor.

"Oh my god... Anthony?! Baby, what... What's going on?" Jasmine whispered, sitting carefully beside him and gently tugging at his arms to reveal the cuts from the razor. The blood was still trickling.

"I-I'm s-sorry i.." Anthony stammered out, his eyes glossy from tears, and fear and sadness. Jasmine pursed her lips in thought and got up, grabbing the razor and tossing it away before grabbing a basket full of Band-Aids and medical stuff from a cabinet beside the mirror. He flinched visibly from her getting up so suddenly. The thoughts were louder now, if that was possible.

She started humming a song as she got to work on his arms, pressing a kiss to each Band-Aid, to each wrap that she rolled around his arms. She placed kisses on his shoulders, his tears, his forehead, his cheeks, pulled his torso gently towards her in an attempt to calm him down further.

Jasmine whispered promises that he was ok, that she would never leave him, that he was loved.

And somehow, Anthony believed it.

He felt safe and loved again.

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This is a mess and I'm sorry you had to read it. I feel a bit better now. Sorry for an angsty chapter as a starter...

Anyways, this is my new oneshot book for Hamilton. I'll be accepting requests, if it's either the cast or the characters themselves.

Hope you all stick around

- Brit 💙