I do not own Hetalia or any of the bands. I normally don't write Hetalia fanfiction so here we go. This is England-centric and no stupid pairings like USUK. Simply a Hetalia story looking into Punk!England's past.

Anarchy In Me.

"Hey England!" America, as usual, excitedly yapped. "What kind of music do you like?"

England blinked at the random question, setting down his tea. "A kind of music I like? Why the sudden question?"

America just smiled cheekily and avoided England's stern gaze. "Ohh~ I dunno...just wondering. I can tell you what kinds of music I like! I like country and rap and-"

"Absolute rubbish," England interrupted, folding his arms. "Any music that comes from you is rubbish. I mean even Japan has better music than you. "

"Really? What kinds of music do you like then Mr. I-Know-Everything-About-Music?"

England paused. He sighed, "I like rock music. Not like your trash, good old fashion rock music. The Rolling Stones, the Ramones, the Beatles, hell, I am a big fan of punk rock music."

"Oh! Punk rock? Like Green Day and Nirvana and My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy and-"

"No...No matter how much anyone from the US try they can never copy the true sound of punk made only in England." England scowled. "Punk rock back then was an atrocity. You were still going through your idiotic hippie phase-"

"Free love~" America randomly held up the peace sign. "Those were some good days, I was like all on these drugs and-"

"Ahem," England cleared his throat. "As I was saying, punk was becoming a big trend for the adolescents. They were fed up with the Queen and Parliament and phrases like "Fuck the System" and "Fuck the Police" were thrown around. Graffiti was then getting more recognized as an art. People were wearing chains and piercing their faces, some even with safety pins. They were shaving their heads and dying their hair outrageous colors! Kids were getting hopped up on drugs and alcohol and sex. Naturally, I jumped on this bandwagon during the time."

"Wait, wait, wait? You were really for real a punk? Dude you mean you had a Mohawk and all that stuff?" America said, stars in his blue eyes.

England sighed, he really didn't want to divulge in to his darker years. Hell, they were even, maybe a bit darker than his pirate years. "Let me show you…" he got up and left the room. He returned with a dusty, cluttered photo album. Written in a messy font, like used with markers or spray paint, was the title, "Anarchy in the UK." England flipped through the pages; most of them were still in black and white. England stopped at a page of a photo of himself.

America studied the picture. There England was, in all his punk glory. His hair looked messy, maybe it was dyed, he couldn't tell since the photo was still black and white. England wore a ripped shirt with a union jack on it with the band name "The Sex Pistols". He looked to be having a very good time, since he had in one hand a cigarette and another hand a bottle of whiskey. England's trousers were skinny and plaid with chains hanging out of the pocks, and ripped from hardcore activities. America could see piercings on England's ears, eyebrow, and maybe even the lip and nose. He couldn't tell really. He saw scars and tattoos that America never saw on England before, as well as hickies and a few bandages on his face and arms.

America was speechless.

England sighed, "Yeah, I was a real rocker back then. I moshed, I crowd surfed, and I was even a bit of head banger back then. I was a right stupid moron though. I did all sorts of drugs and drank when I felt so. I even slept around much to my distaste now. I had very bad teeth back then but thanks to modern dental surgery I got my teeth all back," a quick smile to show his perfect white teeth, he continued, "I was singing soon all about anarchy in my own country. Blasphemous thing I was back then. I nearly lost my place beside Her Majesty's throne. Much to my regret I was very rude to her. I really shouldn't have been under the Pistols' influence so long."

America seemed stunned, "You knew the Sex Pistols?"

"Really America, how stupid can you get? I know everyone in my country. I even knew the Sex Pistols. They really did a number on me I tell you. But they were the new voice of that generation I was ready to join right in it." England flipped a few pages and stopped at two whole pages of nothing but England and the Sex Pistols.

There was England with Johnny Rotten grinning and showing horrible sets of teeth. And then there was a picture of England playing guitar along with Steve Jones. Another picture of Sid Vicious and England enjoying a smoke and exchanging needles with one another. Another picture of England making kissy faces at the late Sid and Nancy. Then there was another picture of England getting a tattoo with Paul Cook, and England flipping off the camera.

"I was very obnoxious back then. I would like to forget that era as well as other phases in my life," England said closing the book. America seemed quite unhappy that with. "It was just a phase after all…just a phase..." he seemed to be a bit morose, reminiscing of his memories.

"Well you looked very bad ass back then England!" America said. 'Maybe next time we can listen to some of your rock albums…?"

England turned around and smiled, "Bloody hell you won't. You'll just end up trying to autotune it stupid."

"Aw dude! Not cool!"