You were sitting at a baby grand piano, softly playing the ivory keys. Your fingers elegantly slid over the white keys playing a familiar tune. Roderich Edlerstein had been teaching you the song, which your dear friend Alfred kept close to his heart.
It was late afternoon, and you were practicing the eight minute song to get it just right. You had been waiting for Alfred to finish up his Allied conference at Arthur's house. Arthur would invite you to the conferences in hopes of joining the alliance, but you had no business being in any alliances.
At the current moment Alfred was your only way home, since your car broke down a couple days ago and was still in the shop. So you patiently waited for the American in England's living room, which luckily held the beautiful piano.
"A long, long time ago. I can still remember, how that music used to make you smile," you sang softly as you played each note.
A tear fell down your cheek as you remembered the day, the music truly did die. Alfred took the hit the hardest, all of the biggest and most amazing names in music were gone. Elvis had drafted, Little Richard turned gospel, Chuck Berry was arrested. Then, Buddy Holly, Richie Valens and Big Booper had all passed away in a plane crash. They were true artists, and could never be beat.
Alfred might've been a self proclaimed hero, and may say how much he loves Superman or how Captain America is his hero. That's true, but they aren't his biggest heroes. Alfred loved the fifties, they were his favourite years as a nation. The dancing, the outfits and especially the music. One of his favourite artists was Buddy Holly. He would never admit to loving the sock hop, but he secretly loved the dance more than anything.
"The good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye. Singing this'll be the day I die, this'll be the day that I die," you continued to sing, a little louder this time.
The pianos sound softly floated through out Arthur's house, and carried itself to the conference room.
The familiar tune reached a certain American's ears as he tried to lead the conference. Smiling to himself as he continued to pitch his idea, your singing then filled the room.
Arthur gave Alfred a sad look, he knew exactly how Alfred felt. Freddie Mercury and John Lennon was some of Arthur's favourite artists, and he was devastated when they passed away. The eighties were Arthur's favourite years and knew it wasn't fair to host meetings on the day your idols had passed away.
Arthur nodded his head, excusing the American. The Brit knew very well today was February 3rd. The Brit knew Alfred didn't want to be holding the meeting on this day and rather be else where. Alfred gave him a small smile and waved to the rest of the Allies as he exited the meeting room.
The American quickly followed the sound of the piano and your voice, which led him to Arthur's living room. Alfred leaned against the door frame as he watched your hands slide over the keys as you continued to play. Softly Alfred began to sing under his breath, making your solo into a duet as you continued to play.
"A generation lost in space, with no time left to start again," he sang along.
Startled by the new voice singing, you smashed your hands on the keys. The elegant piano sound now turned into a horrid screech as you jumped off your seat. You stared wide-eyed at the smirking American as he walked into the living room.
"Dude, you're awesome. Don't stop now," he urged sitting on the large seat in front of the piano and patting the spot next to him.
"Are you okay?" you asked him as you took the spot beside him.
"Yeah, I mean it's sad and all, but they'll always be in my heart. Besides I helped Don McLean write this song," he laughed.
"You did not, he wrote it all by himself," you teased.
"Hey Don and I were good friends!" the American argued.
"I know, it truly is an amazing song. I remember listening to it when I was just starting out as a country." you admitted.
"I find it funny how the sixties went down hill after the music died. People did all sorts of things to either be happy or become greater than Buddy Holly." he stated looking down at his lap.
You knew he was referring to his drug addiction he had during the sixties. Acid, was the big thing back then. After the plane crash and music dieing Alfred became really depressed, the Cold War didn't help either. He sadly began to use the drug, but like other fads that hit his country he grew out of it when his citizens did.
"We can still enjoy this song together," you told him resting your head on his shoulder.
"Will you play it again?" he asked.
"Sure," you smiled. "I learnt the song especially for you," you mumbled under your breath. You placed your hands on the keys and began to play again.
"Oh, and while the King was looking down. The jester stole his thorny crown," Alfred sang.
A small tear fell from your tear duct as you continued to play, the song. Alfred sang along to the piano the whole time. He really did have an amazing voice, which could always make your heart skip a beat.
"_, sing." he demanded looking at you with a soft expression.
"So, bye, bye Miss American Pie. I drove my Chevy to the levy, but the levy was dry," you sang, earning a large grin from Alfred.
"Them good old boys were drinking whiskey and rye, singing this'll be the day that I die," Alfred joined in.
"This'll be the day that I die," you finished.
You drew your hands away from the piano's keys and stood up from your spot. You walked over to the middle of the living room, turning around you noticed Alfred still sitting there. You cast your head to the side and ushered for him to follow. With a shake of his head, he looked down at his lap again.
"Alfred, I know it's a sad day," your voice croaked. "But they wouldn't want to see you upset."
"_?" he asked walking over to you.
"Yes?" you replied arching your brow.
"Will you teach me how to dance real slow?" he smiled uttering the familiar lyric.
"I'd love to," you smiled with a small blush arising on your cheeks.
He used his two middle fingers and lifted your head so you could look him in his sky blue eyes. The American gave you a heart melting smile, before he uttered three words you always waited to hear.
"I love you," he breathed.
"I love you too," you blushed.
Alfred smiled as he brought his lips down to meet yours. He captured your lips in a sweet kiss which gave you butterflies. You wrapped your hands around his neck as he placed a hand on the small of your back. Once you pulled away you rested your head on his chest.
"Can we go back to my place?" Alfred questioned.
"What about the meeting though?" you asked.
"Arthur understands that this is an important day," he sadly smiled. You nodded your head understandingly. "But before we leave, can you play the song one more time?"
"Of course," you smiled as you walked back over to the baby grand and began to play again. Alfred smiled a real genuine smile as he took a seat next to you.
iAnd while Lenin read a book on Marx. A quartet practiced in the park, and we sang dirges in the dark. The day the music died./i