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The garage was dark, lit only by the soft glow of a small, aging TV perched on a makeshift stand. Outside, the world was silent, the city long asleep. But inside the garage, Noah and Mirage were wide awake, as usual. Neither of them was accustomed to quiet nights. Noah was usually tinkering with something—his tools and projects scattered around—the Autobot was either fussing over him or simply watching, optics glowing faintly in the dim light.
Tonight, though, was different. They weren’t working. There was no hum of machinery, no muttered complaints from Noah about stubborn bolts or chipped paint. Instead, they were seated together in front of the flickering screen, watching Hamilton.
It had been Mirage’s idea, though indirectly. He’d gotten curious about American history and, in typical Mirage fashion, had pestered Noah with endless questions. Noah, exasperated but fond, had decided that showing was easier than telling. And so, here they were, a garage-bound robot and his human partners, immersed in Lin-Manuel Miranda's musical retelling of Alexander Hamilton’s life.
Noah sat comfortably in Mirage’s lap, leaning back against the smooth plating of the Autobot’s chassis. The makeshift TV had been an addition Noah installed months ago, thinking Mirage might appreciate some human entertainment while he touched up his paint or fine-tuned his systems. Tonight, it served its purpose well.
On the screen, the characters danced and sang with fervor, the vibrant energy of the story captivating both of them. The tunes were catchy, and Mirage couldn’t help but nod along to the rhythm, his metallic foot tapping softly against the concrete floor. He was enjoying himself more than he’d expected.
One character in particular caught Mirage’s attention—a side character with dark, slicked-back hair and a face framed by freckles. It took Mirage a while to piece together the human’s features—never staying still long enough for him to get a good look, but by the time he had, the character, Laurence, had met his tragic end.
Mirage’s attention sharpened as the stage darkened. Laurence’s voice lingered in the air, soft and mournful, while Eliza read his final letter. The moment was bathed in an ethereal blue light, and something about it struck a chord deep within the Autobot. Mirage’s servo instinctively reached for the remote, pausing the musical mid-scene.
“Noah,” he said softly, his deep voice reverberating in the quiet space.
Noah looked up at him, confused by the sudden interruption. “What’s up?” he asked, his tone laced with curiosity.
Mirage didn’t answer immediately. His large servos shifted, gently cradling Noah’s face as he tilted the human’s head upward. The Autobot’s optics flickered as they darted between the paused image on the screen and the man sitting in his lap.
“Laurence,” Mirage murmured, almost to himself. “He looks like you.”
Noah shifted awkwardly in Mirage’s lap, rubbing the back of his neck as he nodded. “Yeah… he does.”
Mirage tilted his head, his optics narrowing in curiosity as he slowly released Noah’s face. “Why? I know humans can look alike, but not that alike.”
Noah chuckled nervously, his voice laced with a mix of embarrassment and amusement. “You’re right,” he admitted, glancing away for a moment before meeting Mirage’s gaze again. “And, uh, it’s because… it is me.”
The words hung in the air for a moment, and Mirage’s optics flared brighter in surprise. “What? No way.” His voice rose, echoing slightly in the enclosed space of the garage. “My little Noah… in a musical?!”
Noah’s cheeks flushed a deep red as he raised his hands in a defensive gesture. “Look, it’s not as crazy as it sounds, okay?” he said, his voice pitching higher in embarrassment. “It was years ago—back when I graduated high school!”
Mirage leaned forward, his massive frame almost comically eager, as if trying to get closer to Noah despite already holding him. “Details bro! How does this happen? You can’t just drop that on me like it’s nothing!”
Noah let out a sheepish laugh, rubbing his face with both hands before continuing. “Okay, okay! So, after graduation, I was looking for a job, you know? I needed cash bad—college plans weren’t exactly panning out, and bills don’t pay themselves.” He gestured vaguely at the garage, as if it explained everything. “Somehow, I caught Lin-Manuel Miranda’s eye while I was running errands.”
“Wait, the Lin-Manuel Miranda?” Mirage interrupted, his tone incredulous.
“Yes, the Lin-Manuel Miranda,” Noah confirmed with an exasperated sigh. “Apparently, they were desperate to fill the role of Laurence. He thought I had ‘the look’ or whatever and convinced me to audition.”
Mirage’s optics widened even further, their glow now bathing the garage in a soft, bluish light. “So you just… took the role?”
“Well, yeah,” Noah said with a shrug. “I mean, I needed the money, and it sounded kinda fun, you know? Plus, I figured it’d be a cool story to tell later.” He laughed nervously. “Didn’t think it’d come back to bite me like this, though.”
Mirage leaned back slightly, his gaze still fixed on Noah as if seeing him in a completely new light. “You’re telling me I’ve been dating a star this whole time, and you didn’t think to mention it?”
“I wouldn’t call myself a star,” Noah muttered, looking everywhere but at Mirage. “It was just a small role, and I was only in it for a while. Honestly, I figured nobody even remembered.”
“Not true,” Mirage said, gesturing toward the paused screen. “I will remember. You were great, by the way—very convincing for someone who says he just did it for the money.”
Noah laughed, the tension easing from his shoulders. “Thanks, I guess? But seriously, can we just drop it? It’s ancient history.”
“Not a chance,” Mirage said with a teasing grin in his tone. “You’re never living this down, Broadway boy.”
“Don’t call me that!” Noah groaned, burying his face in his hands as Mirage chuckled, the sound deep and warm.
As the musical resumed, Mirage couldn’t help but steal occasional glances at Noah, a newfound appreciation glinting in his optics. His human, full of surprises, and somehow even more extraordinary than he’d realized.