Disclamer: Unsurprisingly, I don't own Hetalia, or the Sex-pistols song, Anarchy in the U.K.
"Hey Fran." Gilbert calls as he heavily leans back against the lockers with a satisfying clank.
"Morning Gil," Francis hums, opening his locker to rummage for the books he'd need for class, and without looking over asked, "Late night again?"
Gilbert's only response is a tired groan as he rolls against the metal surface, making Francis roll his eyes from behind his locker door.
"I told you you shouldn't have gotten on Liz's bad side, now she's out for blood." Books found, Fran closes the door and fixes Gil with a pointed stare, "Your blood."
Despite the worn out look of his friend, Gilbert still manages a cocky grin as he finally pushes up off the locker to open it.
"It's not my fault she gets so defensive. What does she expect me to do?"
"How about not spray paint her boyfriend's expensive new piano?"
"Ahh Roddy had it coming." Gil waves him off.
"Hola amigos." Antonio grins, cheerful as ever as he makes his way over to the pair.
"And where have you been?" Gil huffs, "Liz totally cornered me in the back of Sound Wave yesterday. Whatever happened to 'I got you covered' hmm?"
"Sorry amigo, I was going to, but then Lovi called, and I had to go pick up a paella, and then there was the road block, not to mention a bunch of Seventh Tale High guys were acting suspicious in the 7/11 on the way there and-"
"Alright, alright!" Gil cries, "I get it, shit happened. Would have been nice if you'd gave me a heads up though."
"Sorry," Toni shrugs, but then grins, a grin that both friends know to mean he has something good planned, "buuut, speaking of STH, look what I found~" He sings, pulling a flier out of his bag and waving it in the air.
Both Gil and Francis share a look around Toni, and then at once they pounce. It's basically law between the trio that if one of them finds something good, then the other two will try to get it off them.
Fran makes the first grab from behind, but Toni lifts the paper above his head and side steps out the way. Gil on the other hand, goes for the more direct approach. With lightning speed he dives for Toni's chest, tackling him up against the lockers on the other side of the hallway. He quickly raises one hand out to grab the flier, but Toni isn't about to give up that easily. Using his greater flexibility against Gil, he bends back and twists, pulling Gil down into the lockers and kicking one of his feet out to destabilise him. The result: Gil ends up looking like he's dipping Toni for a kiss. But while the pair are distracted with their awkward possession, Francis makes his move, slinking in to snatch the paper from Toni's outstretched hand.
"Got it~" He sings, while the rest of the school continues to mill about around them, long used to the trio's antics.
Grinning, Gil unceremoniously drops Toni, leaving the Spaniard on his butt as he hops over the teen to join Fran's side.
"Let me see!"
The flier is brightly coloured and rather flashy, though now quite wrinkled, both from Toni's bag and the fight. It's a simple advertisement for a concert in New Stone Park, but what interests the trio most is who the advert is from.
"So Seventh Tale thinks they can hold a concert in our park do they?" Gil glares.
It's long been established the rivalry between Seventh Tale High, or STH for short, and the trio's school, Opal Heart Prep. The tradition goes back so long, no one really remembers why the feud started. Though rumour has it STH is built on the original grounds of Opal, before a terrible tragedy occurred and they were forced to abandon the old school.
Not that the how or why really matters to the trio, no, what matters is that down town is Opal territory, and that means it's up to Opal to put these upstarts in there place.
And who better than the Bad Friends Trio themselves?
A devilish grin spreads across Gilbert's lips as he leans back on the lockers once more. "You guys thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Yo Artie, wait up!"
Arthur sighed, but said nothing — long used to the annoying nickname the teen seems set on giving him — carrying on down the corridor, he has class to get to. But, being the athletic type, Alfred easily catches up.
"Dude, come on, slow down would you?" Al huffs, sidestepping around other students to reach the blond.
"Why?" Arthur grumbles, "You seem to be doing just fine keeping up."
Finally catching up, Al grins, "You still on for band practice tonight?"
Arthur rolls his eyes, of course Alfred would chase him down just to ask that.
"I already said I was, didn't I?" He sighs, turning into the stairwell.
"Sweet!" Al cheers, giving a small fist pump as he hops up the stairs beside Arthur, "Kiku said he's gonna be a bit late, but we can still get in some practice before he shows."
"Mmhmm…" Arthur hums, not really listening to Al. If he doesn't hurry, he's going to be late for algebra.
Alfred continues to babble on, but before he knows it, they reach Arthur's next class.
Pausing at the door, Arthur turns to Al, raising an eyebrow at him, "Don't you have chemistry right now?"
Snapping out of his happy ranting, Al blinks dumbly at Arthur, and a second later the bell rings.
"Crap! Gotta run, see you later Artie!" Al calls in a garbled rush as he's already sprinting back to the stairs. He's got less than a minute to get to his chem class, all the way on the other side of the school.
Arthur just shakes his head as he watches Al run, once again wondering how he ever became friends with the teen.
"Pick up the pace Bonnefoy!"
"Urgh… yes sir…" Francis huffs as he continues to run laps around the track. Track and Field has to be Francis's least favourite class, but it's mandatory, so he has no choice but to bare it.
"Come on Fran, lift those legs!" Gilbert laughs as he jogs up along side the blond.
"Easy for... you to… say…"
"Ja, I'm awesome that way." Gil smirks, having no trouble with the run. With a quick glance over his back to check the coach isn't looking, he leans in close, whispering conspiratorially, "Toni's running recon, but we should be good to go."
Also quickly checking no one's around to over hear them, Fran nods, "Good, so when do you want to strike?"
"Once we have everything we need, we'll sneak in through the broken fence. We strike on the third act." Gil grins his devil look of mischief, "Seems STH's wonder boy is going to be there. What better target than their golden kid?"
Despite how out of breath he is, Francis still manages to look devious as he smirks, "Aiming for their pride? I like it."
"Come on Beilschmidt! I know you can do better than than, get a move on!"
Their talk interrupted, Gil breaks of from Francis, spinning to run backwards beside him as he salutes their coach, "Sorry sir! Running now!"
He laughs at the annoyed look Fran shoots him for showing off, before spinning on one foot again and easily leaving Francis in the dust.
As the sun began to set, Alfred excitedly buzzed around the stage. This'll be the largest crowd he's played for, but what really has him buzzing is that this'll be the first time the three of them have played publicly together.
Al's known Kiku since elementary, bonding over their love of video games and comics — or manga for Kiku — and then later, over music. They both joined plenty of band camps together and soon, they found their calling for music. But while Al can play just about any beat on his drums, and Kiku can play a mean guitar solo, neither of them are singers — Alfred might as well be tone deaf and Kiku is far too shy to sing, even in front of Al. Though Al tried to convince both Mattie and Mathias to join, neither of them really wanted to, so for a while, Al's dream of being in a band was left to be just that, a dream.
Until three months ago, the day he met Arthur.
A transfer student in the middle of the year is pretty odd, and Al won't deny he was interested in the new kid same as everyone else, but, were others lost all will to talk to Arthur the moment they tried, Al wasn't so easily dissuaded.
Matt blames it on Al's inability to read the atmosphere, Arthur blames it on Al not taking the hint, but, either way, Alfred was persistent. Neither of them really can pinpoint the moment they went from reluctant acquaintance / wanna be friends? to actually friends, but both agree it happened around when Al started to ask Arthur about all the punk and rock band t-shits he wears.
After asking Arthur no less than five times to join him and Kiku, their fledgling band was truly formed.
"Alfred will you please just, sit down." Arthur sighs, that long suffering sigh of his from behind Al.
In the small back stage area of the concert stage, the trio are among the first ones to arrive, and while everything up front has been all set up, Arthur continues to fiddle with tuning his electric guitar, beside him, Kiku is also making last minute adjustments to the amps.
"He's right," Kiku says as he stands, "you don't want to waste energy before we start."
Alfred groans in frustration as he continues to pace, unable to sit still even if he tried.
"I can't help it! How are you both so chill about this? Aren't you nervous or excited or just so ready to rock?!"
Arthur rolls his eyes at Al while Kiku walks over to him, placing his hands on the blond's shoulders to still him.
"Close your eyes," he instructs calmly, forcing Al to hold still and do as told, "now breathe in… and out... In…. and out…" after a few repeats, Kiku lets him go and smiles slightly, "Feel better?"
Sighing, Al opens his eyes and nods, "Yeah."
So caught up in his excitement, Al barely noticed all the other band groups had arrived and, as the sky falls to total darkness, the stage lights come to life.
The sound of rock music can easily be heard several blocks from the park, and the three mischievous friends follow it like a beacon. Normally they'd go under cover when stirring up trouble for the fun of it, but tonight, this is about sending a message. So even though they might stick out a bit more than they'd like, they still proudly wear their school uniforms as they skulk through town under the cover of dark.
Bags filled with all the essentials for causing a disaster of any kind, they slip around to the far back of the park. Here, where the tall trees and long grass grow up against the old metal fence, the trio are some of the few people to know about the 'secret entrance'. A single bar, rusted and broken, held in place by the branches of a bush and some gum, is their target point.
"Gil." Francis whispers, and nothing more is needed to be said.
As the strongest of the trio, Gilbert steps forward, crouching down to move the bar out of the way, while at the same time, Francis and Toni keep a lookout.
"Got it." Gil grins.
Stuffing his backpack through first, he then silently slips on in, holding the bar away while the other two crawl through after him. Carefully setting the bar back in place, the trio slink through the bushes and trees, the loud music of the concert easily muffling the sounds of their movement.
Coming out from the tree line, they dust themselves off and blend into the crowd.
Gilbert grins devilishly as he leads the way, already getting phase one under way. As they slip through the crowd towards the stage, hands slip into pockets, not to steal, but to plant evidence. Fake drugs and money has always been one of Gil's more favoured pranks. But the true aim of tonight is just about to take to the stage.
As one band finishes and the next quickly get ready, the trio now stand within the front few rows of the crowd.
To be honest, Francis didn't think this silly little concert would draw such a large crowd, but, the bigger the better, for them anyway.
"You got the camera ready?" He asks Toni, opening his bag to hand Gil his sling shot.
"Si." He smirks, phone in hand, just waiting for the real show to start.
"Just wait, this'll teach these upstarts to come to Opal territory." Gil drawls.
"Which you want first?" Fran asks, as he digs around in his bag.
"Hmm, which one's the golden boy again?" Gilbert hums, looking to Toni.
"Him, the one on the drums." He nods.
Gilbert frowns, but before he can answer back, the stage lights dim, and the sound of a guitar starts to blare. Gil glares as their main target grins stupidly, joining in on the drums.
At the sound of the music, Francis looks up for the first time and stares.
"Right!" The singer calls into the mic, strumming on his guitar, "Now!"
Francis stares, eyes trailing up from bulky jet black boots with more buckles than seems necessary, to ripped skinny jeans that leave little to the imagination, to a black leather jacket — shoulders covered in metal spikes — loosely hanging over a Sex-pistols t-shirt, up to pale skin topped with blond hair, the tips dyed black and spiked. And then, as he lifts his head to look out over the crowd, Francis catches sight of the deepest green eyes he's ever seen.
"-cis! Yo, Earth to Francis!"
Fran blinks at fingers snapping in front of his face, far too close for comfort.
"Uh, eh, what?"
Standing to his side, Gil raises an eyebrow at the dazed look of his friend.
"I said hand me the stink bombs."
Regaining his senses, Fran blinks, "Oh! Right!"
Kneeling, he moves to reach into his bag, only to halt and look back up at the singer. His eyes become transfixed on the teens face, watching as he sings, how he moves, how his hands seem to dance across the instrument, and how the light seems to shine in those eyes.
"I wanna be~! Anarchy~!" He sings loudly, and the crowd around them cheer along.
Slowly standing, Francis looks between the stink bombs in his bag at his feet, and the singer on stage, biting his lip.
"Well," he shrugs to the other two, "there's no rush right?"
Both Gilbert and Antonio turn to stare at Francis, watching how the blond continues to stare up at the stage.
As Gil curiously flicks his eyes between the two, he hears Fran quietly whisper, "Wow, he's pretty good…"
Suddenly getting an idea, Gil grins deviously behind Fran's back, sharing the look with Toni.
"Ehhh, but come on, don't you want to see them piss their pants?" He drawls, slinging an arm over Fran's shoulder and waving his sling under the blonds nose.
"Yeah," Toni joins in, "don't you want to show them who's boss?"
"Uhh." Francis blanks, unable to answer.
"Or maybe," Gil taunts, "You'd rather see what's under those skinny jeans?"
"If we tag him, you'd see everything when they're all wet…" Toni adds slyly.
"N-no!" Francis cries, shaking himself free of Gil's arm, his cheeks darkening, "That's not- we're just here to mess them up, that's all!"
Laughing, Gil pats Francis on the back, "Kesesese, never took you for liking the rebel type."
"What? No, I just…"
Francis is really stuck now. On one hand, he's not the type to deny his feelings but on the other, much more pressing hand, he can't possibly fall for some random Seventh Tale kid, especially not in front of Gil and Toni. He sees the way the pair share a knowing look, and he knows he's caught.
"Alright, tell you what," Gil smirks, "let's forget the mission, we've got a whole new plan now."
Francis really doesn't like the way he said we, but he knows he's helpless to resist now.
Without warning, the pair shove him forward, making him stumble to the front of the crowd. Looking up, he locks eyes with the singer, who frowns questioningly down at him.
Behind him, Gil and Toni fist bump.
"This'll be fun." They grin, before the lights suddenly go out.
Author's notes: Here we go again, me writing for events while I continue to neglect my other fics… oh well.
Ohh, how I had such plans for this little story, but I just wasn't for happing. I rewrote the second half no lest than three times, and this has been sitting in my folder for weeks, just taunting me. But now it's done, or as done as it's going to be unless I ever feel like adding to it, but that's unlikely. I say, as I write plans for more chapters to all my one-shots…
R & R people.
Until next time, stay awesome!