-We all wanna be big stars, but we don't know why, and we don't know how.-
Mr. Jones; Counting Crows

-Hetalia-

"Dudes, I wanna start a band."

Matthew was used to this. Alfred announced his life-long dream practically every other day. This time, they were all gathered in the back of his pick-up truck and parked beside the lake, waiting for the fireworks show to begin. Every year Alfred claimed the explosions were to commemorate his birthday, as if the shows had only begun seventeen years ago, and every year Matthew pointed out there was a fireworks show on his birthday as well, just three days prior. His American step-brother insisted the shows weren't in celebration of Canada Day or the Fourth of July. "The world just appreciates our existence."

Their town was filled to the brim with immigrants from every nation, all harmonized together (more or less; the Greeks somehow never ended up on the same street as the Turkish), and therefore the American independence day wasn't the only national day celebrated. Many major holidays were respected by the town and its cultured population.

The step-brothers were sitting in the bed of Alfred's truck with their English friend Arthur and their German (Prussian) friend Gilbert when Alfred began another one of his iconic rambles.

"Oh not this again." Arthur rolled his eyes and took another sip from his soda.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Alfred dropped off mid-rant to glare at Arthur. Gilbert snickered from his place across from the Brit, and Matthew sensed the oncoming argument. Would they ever have a calm get-together? Probably not.

"Nothing, only that you tell us this every other Wednesday. We know your one true purpose in life is to hog the attention of a room full of fourteen year old girls. You never do anything to get there, though, so honestly, why do you keep going on about it?"

Alfred looked a little hurt before Gilbert's snicker filled the air between them and the time it took Alfred to come up with a retort, goading him.

"Dude, only boy bands get mobbed by teeny-boppers," Alfred said.

Matthew took a quiet sip from his own soda and hoped things wouldn't elevate too much tonight. It seemed inevitable, though.

"And I'm serious this time!" Alfred said. "It's, like, my Fourth of July Resolution!"

"Um, Al? I think you mean New Year's..."

"No way, Matt, it's totally the Fourth of July. It's my birthday, remember?" Matthew just sighed as Alfred carried on in oblivion.

"Only you would make a resolution on Independence Day," Arthur said.

Alfred seemed to be deaf to the Englishman. "C'mon, Gil, you think a band'd be cool too, right?"

Gilbert grinned around the mouth of his bottle as he finished a swig. "Ja, could be pretty awesome if you did it right."

Alfred gave a shout of triumph and high-fived the albino from his own perch on the edge of the truck.

"See, Gil thinks I can do it," he said to Arthur, holding his head high. It was always astounding how quickly Alfred's confidence could double.

"Now wait just a second, all he said was-"

"La la la, I can't hear you, la la la," Alfred half shouted as he covered his ears, holding his soda between his legs so it didn't spill. Arthur huffed and kicked him in the shin, nearly sending the American from where he sat to the ground. Alfred's hands shot down to grip the edge of the truck. He glared at Arthur.

"Not cool, Iggy," Alfred said, smiling.

Arthur crossed his arms and smirked. "Well, what was I supposed to do, wait for you to shut up?"

"Well I always do it for you."

Even though he knew they were just joking around, the argument was making Matthew uncomfortable. He held his bottle close and looked down at his crossed legs as they continued, just wishing the sun would set already so the show would begin.

They must have bothered Gilbert too, or maybe he just wanted to insult them, because he interrupted them with "Ladies, please, you're both pretty," and burst into another snickering fit at the glares he received.

"Whatever." Alfred shrugged and looked over his shoulder to check the sun's progress. It was nearly down now. "Figured you guys were too lame to join me anyway."

"Hey, you never asked me to be in a band with you," Gilbert said.

Alfred grinned as his bait was taken. "Do you want to?" He glanced at each of them in turn, clearly eager.

"What, join you?" Arthur scoffed, but the tiny twitch in the corners of his mouth gave him away. Alfred's grin widened.

"Well I did say band, you know. Who else would I get except my best friends?"

"And step-brother," Matthew added.

"Oh, shut up, man, you're totally more of a friend than some kid who ended up living with me." Alfred swatted at him, too far away to actually do anything. Matthew wasn't sure how to take that.

"So you expect me to agree to another of your half-baked plans, which you'll probably forget by next Tuesday?" Arthur asked.

"C'mon, dude, I'm not that implusive." Alfred snorted.

"Right, so next Wednesday, then."

"Well, if you don't want to be in it..." Alfred shrugged, pouting as he looked back over the lake at the tree line now blocking the orange rays of the setting sun.

Arthur rolled his eyes and took another sip of his soda. He was quiet as he composed his thoughts.

"I refuse to take part of a harebrained scheme concocted by you," he said. "However," he paused and watched Alfred turn back to them, grinning from ear to ear, "if you're serious, and if you stay serious, I can play bass..."

Alfred nearly bounced with excitement. "Dude, when am I not serious?" He sat up straighter in what Matthew recognized to be his 'Hero' pose, sitting version.

Gilbert, apparently tired of sitting quietly (unlike Matthew, who would rather just listen their conversation), threw a wadded up burger wrapper at Alfred.

"Well, I'm in for guitar," he said with a smirk. "My awesome playing will make your band a thousand percent better. I'll even add in vocals, free of charge."

Matthew knew that left Alfred for drums, and Arthur would probably insist on managing everything, being the perfectionist that he was. The Canadian wasn't sure how he felt about being left out of the band. On one hand he really had no talent, but on the other, he was always left out of things beyond their group. He'd assumed that here, at least, he would be guaranteed a place. But then, no one owed him anything, and it was Alfred's dream, anyway.

He was pleasantly surprised when the other three turned to him for his contribution, waiting for him to pledge his allegiance to their band.

"What?" he tried to ask. It came out as more of a squeak than he intended, being pulled from his thoughts and caught of guard.

"C'mon, bro, y'think I'm gonna let you get out of this?" Alfred asked, the last light of the sun reflecting off his glasses as he looked down from his perch. Matthew glanced at Arthur, the most sensible of the other teens, for help.

"Come now, you're our friend," Arthur said, able to guess his thoughts. "You must join us, it wouldn't be the same without you."

"I don't really- I can't do anything, really. Not in a band." Matthew warned.

"Lies!" Gilbert shouted. He was smirking. "Matt's got a voice like a fucking songbird." Matthew raised an eyebrow, the compliment coming out as more of a jab than anything.

"Yeah, Matt, you gotta go on with us!" Alfred pressed. "You can be our lead!"

"I..." Their lead? Matthew couldn't possibly do this. The stage fright alone would be too much for him. A backstage position might be nice, or Alfred could even teach him to play drums, but to be the lead singer, when he was only even in that chorus class because he'd been doing it since elementary school…

He'd heard Gilbert singing in their chorus class. The Prussian was a far better fit for the job, but they were all looking at him with expressions somewhere between being expectant and being smug.

"Higher voices are easier to separate from the guitars and drums, after all," Arthur said. Matthew felt cornered. This really wasn't his sort of thing. But, maybe this would actually earn him respect. People would actually remember his name if he were the lead. The idea didn't become much more appealing; there was a difference between wanting to be acknowledged and wanting to be the center of attention. He hardly sang rock music. Their chorus class focused on classical training, and Matthew had always been partial to pop bands. He voiced these concerns and only received eye rolls as the sun finally set.

"Just say yes, dude," Alfred said, shifting so he could look out over the lake once the fireworks finally started.

"Ja, Birdie, don't be a party pooper," Gilbert said. Matthew sighed.

"I don't know... I think this is a bad idea," he murmured, preparing to give in.

"We'll look after you," Arthur promised as the first rocket went up. He'd always been like an elder brother to Matthew, and to Alfred even more so, and his reassurance was the final straw. Matthew sighed and nodded, the first red explosion reflecting off of his own glasses. Alfred let out a whoop, though whether it was due to Matthew's agreement or the beginning of the fireworks, Matthew couldn't tell.

The conversation was set aside in favor of watching the explosion of lights in the sky. The sounds were a bit louder than Matthew would have preferred, nearly making him flinch each time, but the colors were beautiful. The show was, of course, dominated by reds, whites, and blues, but a few greens and yellows had been slipped in for variety's sake. Matthew could hear the excited shouts of the young children nearby. A few were running around the cars, but most were sitting on car hoods or in truck beds, squirming with excitement as the lovely lights painted the sky in American patriotism. Arthur often scoffed lightly at the exaggerated shows of rebellion, but he was hardly the only Brit by the lake that evening. Any excuse to watch things blow up in the middle of the dog days of summer seemed good enough for the townspeople. In a town like theirs, nationalism had very little place.

As the finale began, Matthew thought about this band they'd decided to start. He was obviously the weakest link of the group, still not even sure if he could do what they were asking. Trying to stay positive, he watched the frantic explosions and imagined hundreds of fans cheering his name, holding up signs with his name boxed in by hearts. People who knew him, and cared about what he did. That could be nice. Or he could get stage fright and vomit on the front row.

A/N: First I want to say thank you very much for making it this far. I've worked hard alongside my Beta, Hornet394 (who deserves a big thank you as well), to make this story as pleasurable to read as it can be. After the editing of my Beta, I have also gone over the chapter myself and tweaked it based on what I learned this past year from a mentor. I promise you this story is better written the further in you get, and I hope to clean up the rougher chapters as time goes on.

This story of mine is going to be a long one, and the plot line is rather tangled. The intended, eventual, official pairings are USUK and PruCan (not necessarily in that order). However, life isn't all that black and white, so these four lovely boys aren't going to get off that easy. There'll be many pairings here and there: mentions of FrUK, moments of PruAus and PruAme, and a few other surprises.

The plan is for there to be song lyrics at the start of every chapter that highlight said chapters events, but hopefully the songs in their entirety will also apply to the story as a whole. Whether I can keep up with those double meanings is yet to be seen, but I'll keep my fingers crossed.

There will also be angst in this story. There will be injuries and sometimes blood, and chapter seven has very vague mentions of domestic abuse. If this triggers you or even merely offends you, I am sorry. I try not to go quite so dark with most of the angst in this story, but occasionally we'll dip into serious matters. Most of this story's angst will deal with relationships; shouting and arguing, that sort of thing. There are also instances of alcohol usage, and sex. There will be a lot of sex, for one of my works at any rate.

There will be point of view changes through out the story as I try to give each boy a fair amount of time in the spotlight. Each boy will grow and change, in his own way, but at the end we will still have our favorite characters. I hope you'll enjoy yourself as you take this journey with them.

Translations for this chapter:
Ja: German; Yes

Thank you very much.

~VV