I don't own Hetalia, its characters, or anything in that sort. *cries*
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Community service. Out of everything that the American high school football star had to do, it was community service. "It's practically a death sentence," he thought while surveying the note.
The woman at the front desk snickered at his expression. He gave her a glare before turning around and out of the office. "Fuck this, there's no way I'm doing damn service for old people and shit," the American said under his breath.
The morning bell rang throughout the halls, alerting all students go into their classrooms under short notice. He sighed as he walked through the hallways, getting bumped every ten steps or so. High school sucks. Many would think the young American had it easy. Being in the popular crowd— the star of the American football team—getting all the ladies. What more would any student his age want?
"Well, it's not what I want," he thought bitterly, answering his own question.
Of course, it was great to have everyone always rooting for him—cheering him on after every game, but in the end, it wasn't what he really wanted.
He wanted real friends. The ones that like you not for what you do, but for who you are.
He felt… depressed. There was no other way to put it. Things at home just weren't going well. Everyone thought he lived a life of practically a king. But he didn't. It only seemed that way because he would bring them to his mother's house. His parents were divorced. And his dad went out drinking every day, but thankfully wasn't the abusive type when drunk. His father has been passive for as long as he could remember. However, even when he wasn't out drinking he wouldn't talk to his son. The usual. He never spoke to Alfred, even when he was a child.
On the other side, his mother was the more audacious one of the pair. But Alfred never would consider her the best mom in the world. After divorcing his father, she remarried a well known Neurosurgeon, who obviously had a lot of money. When Alfred asked her if she married just because of the cash, she denied it—but he knew the truth. The man was about 20 years older than her.
She had other boyfriends here and there when her new husband wasn't home—it was for this reason his father left her. He truly did love her. He told her—begged her countless times to stop for the sake of the happiness in their house, but she just couldn't.
His mother always wanted to go to New York. She had always wanted to be famous; to live life in the city. And of course, none of those big dreams came true. She just couldn't stand living in a little town, or what she would call, "Poor Man's Ville." They lived next to the projects. He once overheard his father talking in a hushed whisper to his mother that they might as well live in the projects as well, considering that they were only down the street.
They were just so poor. His father never went to college. In the 80's; when he was young and fresh out of high school he married Alfred's mother. Shortly after did he join the military during the Cold War to fight the Soviet Union in Afghanistan. But when he came back, he just was never the same. His mother's side of the family said that at one time, before Alfred was born that his father was a different man. He was happy, cheerful… characteristics that would describe his son now. But war does something to someone's character. It crushes it, destroys it until a man's heart is broken into pieces—into emptiness.
He always wondered why his father wanted to go back. But he never asked. He couldn't, for it only brought an inscrutable stare in his father's clouded eyes. In a few months, his father would leave again. He would be transferred to Afghanistan after he had just gotten back from Iraq a few months earlier. Then Alfred would have to spend the next however many months, or years at this point for his father would come back. If he came back.
He sighed, pushing the lugubrious recollection away as he entered his first period class. He didn't want to show them his pain—his weakness. "Algebra II… great," he thought. He was rather good in math, but tried to hide the fact. It was annoying honestly, having his so called "friends" asking for his homework. Especially Gilbert, who is also among one of the most popular kids in school. As he casually walked in, he could hear the girls in the left corner of the classroom look his way and giggle. He enjoyed the attention, but ignored it for once. He wasn't exactly in the best of moods today.
"Hey Alfieeeeee, 'sup?" Gilbert stated with one of his infamous grins.
He played off the stupid nickname Gilbert almost always calls him. It wasn't like he was the only one who used it. It turned into a nickname all his fan girls call him with too. Though he has to admit, it was weird that Gilbert was using it. None of his guy friends ever used the girlish nickname. He would tell him that it was gay, but knew it would hurt all of the girls' feelings that used it to address him. Only then did he remember the reason why he had almost been late for class.
Instead of the normal cheery greeting he would usually use, he said in a not-so-low voice as he approached Gilbert, "Dude, I should've never listened to you about that fucking stupid prank you wanted to do just soooo fucking bad."
"Whhaaa—?"
"I got a damn Wednesday for it AND community service! Not cool bro." He grimaced. How could Gilbert forget about it already? They did do it only yesterday, but of course only he got blamed for it. He played it off cool, but couldn't stop himself from grinning at the last moment, which had led to pissing off the teacher even more. And technically, it was Gilbert's fault since he yelled at how funny it was and that it was the best idea Alfred had ever came up with.
"KESESESESESESEEE, but it was SOOO funny man. You should've seen the teachers face when that stink bomb went off—it was priceless. Plus the room stunk like ass all day. I think it still does, dunno, we'll find out today in Bio." He continued grinning. "It ain't that bad, I thought you were going to get suspended for a day or two after he yelled his brains off on ya."
"What can I say? The principal likes me. Everyone likes ma charm," he winked, even though he was still technically mad at the red eyed boy. He heard the girls in back giggle again after the heroic pose he made.
"Yeah, yeah. Come sit your damn ass over 'ere then."
"Mhmmmmmmm," he dragged on, earning a few more giggles.
The bell went off again one last time, ensuring that every student should be inside unless they wanted to marked off as tardy. Class went off the same way it usually did. The teacher would ask if they had any questions on the homework; which took at least 20 minutes to go through. It was boring as hell in Alfred's opinion, since he knew all his answers were correct. He whispered to Gilbert, which wasn't really that quiet since his math teacher was practically deaf from being so anciently old. "How long is she going to go on explaining about the same damn thing?"
"Ppfffft—like always, she'll waste all of our time when we could be doing homework for today." It was true. She would waste almost all of the class period answering questions for last night's homework. Then she would explain the next night's homework by giving easy examples. It sucked because her examples were so simple that when you started the actual homework, the examples would barely help at all since she just had to make the homework problems ten times as hard as the examples she would show in class. Only until they had five minutes before the bell would ring would she give them homework for the next day.
And obviously today was no exception, since she had started class the same as always.
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By the time it was lunch, Alfred was actually considering sneaking out during gym. Between classes he went to the office to ask how long he would have to do community service for his local area. Apparently, after the stunt he pulled off in Bio they decided that he would do community service until the end of semester. A whole semester! He couldn't believe it. School just started a few weeks ago, and he's already gotten a detention. With community service. How was he going to explain this one to his dad? He always did get in trouble in school, and even though he knew his father didn't really care that much anyway, he didn't want to bother him. He already felt bad about his father having to leave again so soon. Plus he felt better staying with his dad, knowing how lonely he would feel in the small house.
Ever since his mother left, the house got seemingly quiet. She would always leave the T.V. on (which wasn't exactly the smartest of ideas) while having parties at their house every other day. If not, she would simply not be home. They never lived in a huge house, but it was big enough for him and his father to have separate bedrooms.
He had to admit, when they got divorced, his father's side of the family was so ecstatic that they actually had a party. His father's family had despised her; which explains why he's now considered the black sheep of his family. He never was treated well because he was her son. In the back of their minds they probably wanted him to leave with her, but since his mother was so wild and would never be home considering that she was now divorced; his father took pity on him.
Honestly, he felt relieved himself when she had left. But now regrets it. Even though he was never on best terms with his mother, it made him a little upset that that chapter of his life was finished. He could never turn around and say he had a happy family. His family was broken.
Just the thought made his stomach turn as he went to his locker, but he continued to wave cheerfully to his classmates that giddily waved to him as he passed them by in the hallway. By the time he reached the locker, his lunch period was already 10 minutes in. He got late talking to some Football buddies. Shoving his books carelessly into the locker, he dashed into the cafeteria. It always sucked being in the back of the lunch line, because then everyone would get the edible lunches. And he wouldn't stand for it when it was a Tuesday. Tuesday's they always served hamburgers.
Impatiently waiting in the back of the line, he tapped his foot. It wasn't going any faster, and by the time he was going get his lunch the period would probably be half over considering that a certain Greek boy in front of the line was taking his sweet old time with the lunch-aid.
"Should I take the pepperoni or the… the… cheese pizza…?" The Greek boy asked. Again.
"Honey, just choose please—you're holding up the line."
"Hold on…" He started checking his wallet. "How much is it?"
"This is the third time you asked! It's $1.50."
"Uhhh… Wait. What is the special today?"
"Hamburgers."
"Hmm…"
It seemed to go on like that forever. And of course, the boy was just so laid back that it took him a few more minutes to actually take the money out of his wallet before slowly handing it the lunch-aid. She seemed thoroughly annoyed with him and snatched it out of his hands before he changed his mind again. Alfred wanted to laugh, but decided against it considering how much time the boy wasted.
By the time Alfred got his lunch, the period was almost over. It was even worse then he imagined. He sighed, getting his hamburger (sadly there weren't more, he was used to eating three) and sat down at the "popular" table.
The rest of lunch his friends continued arguing over who was a better quarterback, the hottest chick in the cheerleading squad, and other nonsense that Alfred honestly didn't care about. He just continued to listen until Gilbert uncharacteristically asked if something was wrong.
"Hnnngghh, I'm just beat," he whined, trying to act more like himself.
"Yeah, but usually you're all like, I dunno, awesome and stuff. Like me. You didn't even show off to the teacher how funny and awesome we both are today!"
"Well, I just don't feel awesome right now," he retorted while pouting.
The rest of the table just laughed off Alfred's childish behavior until the bell rang for next period. He sighed again. Why couldn't anyone just cheer him up at the seldom times he actually was feeling down?
The rest of the day went as bad as he imagined it would, with him falling asleep in English, and then forgetting his World History book in Bio. And he mysteriously flunked a lab that he swore he turned in. When he started driving home from football practice, he remembered the community service meeting he had tonight. "There's no way I'm going to waste my time there. Fuck them."
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Did I get the thoughts in italics right? I was unsure but left it the way it was.
I know it's a little unoriginal since it's Gakuen Hetalia, but hey, I tried to put this point of view in 3rd person. And that's a big deal to me, since I never write in 3rd. So sorry if I mess up here and there. I have a really good idea for yet another fic, but decided to do a Gakuen one first since my other story is very… complicated, and requires me being a more experienced writer.
If there are any mechanical errors, grammar mistakes, or anything else, I'd be happy to correct them. I'm trying to improve my writing skills, so it'll only help. :3
