Konnichiwa o minna-san! This is PT-chan desu with her first ever Hetalia fic! XDD I've been planning to write this fic for AGES!
Do you guys see the cover art? XDD I saw it one day in google search and, seriously, IT NEEDS A LONGER MEDIA! So I tried to make one!
This fic was born with the help of my very good friend/classmate (and if she's reading this, thank you and sorry for taking so long and no I haven't written past this yet TT~TT)

Anyways, HETALIA IS NOT MINE! Cause if it were, and if I were that awesome (which I'm not *sobsob*) there'd be a USUK movie! ...and live action dramas *cheshire grin*XDD

I hope you like it! XDDD Please leave a review!

Prologue: A Brit in the Big City

Four years.

Four whole years.

He simply couldn't believe he had to stay in this hell hole of a country for four whole bloody years!

The air was so stale, the place crowded with moving bodies and the noise was everywhere! One couldn't even walk three steps without hearing someone shouting their heads off or bumping into you.

Whatever made his father think that it would be a good idea to migrate here, he won't ever understand. If it was up to him he would've skipped right on to the plane back the moment he stepped foot outside it, but alas it was simply not possible.

Fatigue after the long flight brought a dull ache in the back of his head as he inspected his busy surroundings. America. Over three thousand five hundred miles away from home.

I hate this place. He thought with a scowl.

"You're just exaggerating" his mother had said. And perhaps he was exaggerating a bit, but they were in the country for only over three hours and already he was sick of it.

There was only one good thing he could think of in the situation he was in, and that was being away from his near-abusive older brothers. Thank heavens for that, otherwise I'd jump on the next plain home; consequences be dammed.

He glared silently at the conveyor belt as it spewed out their check-in baggage after a delay of half-an-hour. He was slightly relieved to finally be able to leave the hustle and bustle of John F. Kennedy, but he definitely was not looking forward to heading out into the open streets of New York City.

The moment he sets foot outside of that airport, he knew, his fate was sealed.

He would be sent off to some high class boarding school on a Scholarship program his parents had signed him up for, which he easily acquired being the academic person he was, while they set out on their own business ventures around the country. And he'll be staying in NYC, right at the centre of it all, for four painfully long years until he graduates. By then his parents said that he would be free to choose his own path, read: Do whatever he wants.

I am definitely going straight back to England if ever I survive these torturous years. He growled to himself as he endured the all-too-hyper streets of the City that Never Sleeps.

The title was all too factual as they had arrived there a little past 2 in the morning, and he was indeed quite sure that, no, he definitely won't be getting much sleep in the aforementioned city, not even if he desperately needed to.

And as he fought his way through the crowd, trolley at hand and trying his best not to lose sight of his mother's retreating back, a sweet melody reached his ears.

He felt himself slow down just a bit as he curiously looked around. The melody was soft, light, and he was quite surprised by the fact that he could hear it through all the noise. It had some unknown quality to it that it seemed to rise up from the crowds, pushing to the front of his consciousness while everything else is drowned out.

He couldn't quite make out the lyrics, but the voice was smooth, deep, enchanting even; the light instrumentals giving the song a dreamy feel.

He was immediately entranced.

If only a song could capture a memory
I would be with you

His legs began to move, slowly, as if hypnotized, dreamily following the source of the angelic voice. It was everywhere actually, resounding through the normally busy streets, and he couldn't pinpoint exactly where it could be coming from.

If only a heart could fall for a melody
I know you'd love me too

He could see his mother a few feet in front of him, and he tried not to lose her amongst the crowd of unfamiliar faces, all the while his ears focused on the soothing music. He knew it couldn't be from in person, it was too clear.

But a song is just a song
And a melody won't do

And alas, as he looked up in to do another inspection, he saw it.

If you don't belong to me
In the way I'd want you to

There, in the midst of the bustling city, the source of the melodious voice appeared.

But just as long as you know…

Sun-kissed skin covering a youthful but perfectly sculptured body, not quite hidden beneath a plain white dress shirt, blond hair that practically glows in the artificial lighting –or perhaps genuine sunlight, he wouldn't know- and the most beautiful blue eyes just as bright and full of life as a clear summer morning, yet containing a hint of sadness, a sense of solitude as his song entails, and so awfully genuine…

…This is song is for you

Even through a projected screen with the possibility of all the make-up, camera effects and all around editing that could've been done to make the scene much more breath-taking than it actually is… to him, this was Adonis' Incarnate.

And a Nightingale.

For as long as the memory of this melody lives on

I'd always remember
The way you are to me
And that's how you'd always be
Here in the memory…

He was snapped back to reality by his mother's voice calling for him to hurry. He had been so entranced that he didn't notice he'd been standing still in the middle of the paved sidewalk, already receiving numerous irritated glances from busy people every now and then.

Flustered from his predicament, and his throbbing heart, he finally forced his legs to move on, flashing one last glance back to the large billboard several stories above him just in time to catch the ending of the Music Video that he had been so enthralled by.

And in bold, cursive letters flashed the name of the Godly Idol that had captivated him so much that any sense of masculine pride he might've had would be thrown straight out of his to-be dorm window as soon as he steps inside it.

The Hero: Alfred F. Jones.

Maybe… these four years won't be so bad after all…

…of a song.

Song: "This Song is For You" by Erik Santos (go mga pinoys!)
I'm not entirely sure if it really fits the situation... but It was the song in my head while I wrote this

Can anyone guess who's POV this was? *wiggles eyebrows* ;P XDD

Anyways, Like it? Hate it? Please tell me about it! Reviews charges my writing machine! :D XDD