"Hey, Dude! What's up, Broha?"
Matthew turned around to see who was calling him, an almost moot act. Only a handful of people would ever speak to him, and only one of those people would ever call him-
"Dude, I need a ride home today," Alfred said, his signature grin never leaving his face.
Matthew sighed. He didn't like to turn down his brother's requests, though waiting around for Alfred's student council meeting to end seemed less than exciting.
Matthew's head followed its signature nod of agreement, though he allowed himself a few "aggressive words".
"It's not much fun waiting around for you, eh?" The younger brother said in his most firm tone, which once released into the world, was no more than a whisper in comparison to his elder.
"I got it covered, bro!" Alfred grinned, squeezing Matthew's shoulders. "Or should I say 'vice president bro'?"
"H-huh?" Matthew asked, trying to escape his brother's grasp.
"You're the new school vice president!" Alfred laughed, turning the head of every student in the hall around them.
Matthew successfully pushed his brother away. "Wang Yao is the vice president," he said, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.
"Not anymore!" Alfred beamed proudly. "You're my sidekick so I told him to step down. He wasn't even that upset: said it'd be a nice break from us westerners. Kinda racist, huh?"
"I'm not your side-"
"You don't need to thank me! I did it 'cause, I'm totally worried about you, broski," Alfred said, his trade mark grin momentarily subsiding.
"You just want a ride," Matthew mumbled hesitantly.
Aww, come on, Matty," Alfred groaned sounding slightly desperate at the idea of walking home for the whole semester. "You barely join any clubs-"
"I founded the breakfast club. We serve pancakes every-"
"You only talk to that Cuban guy-"
"His name is Juan and-"
"And you keep a stuffed polar bear in your locker!"
Matthew let his head drop, his blonde bangs falling over his eyes. Sure he was being an obnoxious hoser, but he wasn't wrong. The truth was, Matthew did want to make a name for himself. Even his friends confused him with Alfred. God, once Alfred did! Okay, maybe he did look like Alfred . . . and talk like Alfred . . . and have the same interests as Alfred . . . but there were lots of things that made Matthew unique. He just . . . had to find them. So yeah, he needed to get out there more, but he definitely was not starting by being Alfred's "sidekick" on student council.
"Al . . . I don't want to-"
"Great see you at 2:30!" Alfred called over his shoulder as he rushed to class.
Well, he was "uniquely" bad at confrontation.
Matthew sat awkwardly to the right of his brother. He snuck glances at his fellow councillors, the constant fear that these people questioned his presence hanging over him. Did they see him as Alfred's "sidekick"?
"Okay dudes! Welcome to the first student council meeting of the year! This is going to be a righteous year, mostly 'cause I'm gonna be the awesomest president ever, so I don't really need any of you here, but we gotta roll call anyway," Alfred shouted, standing at the head of the table, speaking in, what Matthew could only imagine, was his most "heroic" voice. "So take it away Artie!"
"Would you please stop shouting?" Arthur asked, massaging the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger and cringing. Judging by the notebook and pen in front of him, Matthew assumed that Arthur was the council's secretary, meaning he had to record everything that Alfred said for the next hour and a half. Lucky him.
Arthur stood up, holding up the note pad in front of him. "Francis?" He asked begrudgingly.
"Oui, mon amie. Zee Social convener iz present. We may begin," Francis said checking his nails. Matthew grinned inwardly. He could understand Francis and Alfred couldn't. He turned ever so slightly to check if Alfred was puzzling over what Francis had said, only to find him texting under the table. Matthew sighed. Who cared if he could understand French? No one cared what Francis had to say anyway. . .
"No, we can't start yet you wanker!" Arthur yelled frustrated. Everyone knew that he had a short fuse when it came to Francis, and it looked like it was just lit. "You're the first one on the list. We have the whole rest of the attendance to get through!"
"I am present," Ivan chimed in happily, leaning back in his chair.
Everyone turned to look at him.
Arthur looked down at his list of names and positions. ". . . Why?" He asked confused.
"I am dee Russian Representative, da?" Ivan assured, still smiling.
"That's not a position," Arthur said slowly, clearly getting frustrated again.
"Don't be silly. Every club needs a Russian Representative," Ivan laughed, though his eyes grew more serious.
The members of the council were silent for a moment, not sure how to react.
Finally Arthur cleared his voice, "Yes, well . . . what about our treasurer? Kiku?"
"Hai," the Japanese boy said quietly and Matthew smiled. If there was anyone in the room who might be as shy as Matthew himself, it was Kiku.
"Social Commissioner?"
"Yes," Ludwig answered stiffly, from the opposite head of the table. He nudged the sleeping Italian boy to his left.
"Pasta!" The boy shouted, waking with a start. The council gave him a confused look as he lowered his head and went back to sleep.
"Feliciano is my assistant, and he is also here," Ludwig clarified calmly, though pink tinted his cheeks after his friend's outburst.
"Alright," Arthur said, checking off the two names. "And finally, vice-president?"
"Umm . . . here," Matthew mumbled shyly.
"Where is Yao?" Ivan suddenly asked. His smile was the same as before, but his eyes danced dangerously at the sudden realization that his friend was missing.
Matthew opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out.
"Oh, that dude quit," Alfred replied in his brother's defense, finally looking up from his phone.
Ivan's eyes turned slowly from Matthew to Alfred. "Why?" he asked coolly.
"Pfft, I don't know," Alfred laughed, though clearly a bit uncomfortable. "I had wicked important presidential stuff to worry about, so I didn't ask."
"I have a matter to discuss that is actually relevant to this meeting," Ludwig announced curtly, cutting off any future questions Ivan had for Alfred. Matthew breathed a sigh of relief at the distraction.
"Kiku tells me we need to raise money for the homecoming dance, so I want to brainstorm ideas for a fundraiser," the German boy announced before straightening his shirt and sitting back down.
"Zat's easy," Francis laughed. "A kissing booth."
"No one wants to kiss you, you cheese-smelling twit," Arthur groaned, losing his patience once more.
"You know you want to, mon amour," Francis laughed, puckering his lips and leaning towards Arthur, who quickly leaned so far back in his seat that it toppled over, making Alfred join in the laughter.
Arthur stood back up, and, blushing deeply, replaced his chair to its original position before sitting in it, attempting to divert any more attention to the fall (which was hard with Francis and Alfred howling on either side of him). "What about a bake sale?" He asked, his voice quivering with embarrassment.
"No offense, bro, but your scones taste like ass," Alfred choked out between laughs. "I think I'd rather kiss Francis."
"I have idea," Ivan spoke up, silencing the room.
Once everyone's eyes were on him, he smiled, ear to ear.
"Hockey game."
Everyone exchanged looks of dread, not wanting to disagree with him. Everyone, except Matthew.
Matthew instead looked up with a grin rivaling Ivan's.
"I think that's a great idea," the shy boy said in a loud, confident voice.