Letters From Home
1
Guys I'd just like to let you know that I'm typing this with fingerless gloves on cause it's so fucking cold in my dorm room! Now on that note I'd like to share with you my greatest college blunder so far: so its our first marching band performance kay and it's the first time I've put my white marching gloves on since last marching season. So I put the damn gloves on, started to giggle, snapped my fingers, and began to laugh my ass off when one of my friends asked why I was laughing I was all "haha I'm Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist!"everyone just looked at me strange and I was just like… dear god even the geeks don't accept me! Fullmetal Alchemist what have you done to me?!
Now on with legitimate story notes: kay so you should see the amount of red on my screen dude its not even right and its kinda driving me nuts! But I really wanted to write this in the point of view of like country boy Alfred and since I live in a little slice of redneck paradise I'm going off of how a lot of my friends speak so if you're offended by my interpretation of the slaughter of the English language (XD JKJK!) don't be tellin me cause I ain't interested! Ha! See I can talk like the rest of yins if I want! (Bonus points if you can guess where I'm from by the use of that word! Without looking at my other stories and the internet!... or use the internet I don't care not like any of you will actually do it anyways. Le gasp I'm so under-appreciated! And now that I've gotten that rare Francis moment off of my chest on with the story! P.s. I don't feel under-appreciated: I love you guys! Please continue to read!)
"Come on Alfred just come with us tonight, I swear you'll have fun!" Matthew was pleading with those wide violet eyes of his as that pervert French boyfriend he kept around for some strange reason wound himself around Matthew's waist from behind and gave me an equally pleading look.
"Yes Alfred mon ami it shall be a grand time full of drinks and laughter!" He made a grand sweeping gesture, his blue eyes sparkling with the promise of debauchery drunken shenanigans. I "pft"d and rolled my eyes as I turned back to the television.
From the moment I'd landed in LaGuardia I'd been in a sour mood, and for good reasons! I'd never set foot in a city and had never expected to, but on my parents' whim—particularly my ma's—I'd come to spend two months with my cousin Matthew to "see the world" or some overused shit like that. And in the five hours I'd been here in the Big Apple, I'd made the decision that I would not be leavin Matt's plush couch and fridge full of alcohol.
"Alfred don't judge my group of friends on Gilbert." Matthew sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as best he could with Francis still in the way. "They're really not that bad at all, most of them are calm, cool, and collected I swear." Francis snorted and moved away from my cousin, tryin to conceal his laughter.
I narrowed my eyes in his direction. "Yeah I'm sure they are."
"Alfred, you didn't come here to sit on my couch for two months; your parents would hardly be pleased." He attempted to fix me with a chastisin glare that I just brushed off. Despite bein older than me by three years, Matt had never been able to intimidate me, or anyone really.
"Yeah well I didn't want to come here in the first place, so thanks but I'll skip the smoke filled club playin loud music I hate while bein smashed up against a bunch of people like cattle. 'Sides I'd rather stay in a place where I can actually get drunk, I'm just a kid 'member." Matthew's glare intensified and for a second, I was actually beginning to think I'd made the wrong decision to play in that fire, until Francis gave a long suffering sigh as he moved toward the door.
"Mathieu just forget it! If we wait around any longer we'll be late and Gilbert will never forgive us." I shuddered at the mention of the loud German I had met at the airport. He waltzed around like he owned the place in his ripped jeans and combat boots, he was even wearin eyeliner for god's sake! Where I came from the only time ya had a hole in yer clothes was from workin, but yer ma quickly patched that up if you were lucky, women wore makeup, and combat boots were reserved for exactly that: combat. In my nineteen years of life, I had honest to God never seen anyone like him.
"Francis you go on ahead and make sure Mathias and Erik get there okay alright? I need to talk to Alfred alone." Another sigh, a lingering kiss, and Francis was out the door.
"Why do you like 'im again?" I asked taking a swig of Matt's girly-fruity drink.
"Because he's sexy as hell and is the best fuck I've had in my entire life." He said calmly making me almost spit flavored vodka everywhere as he sat down beside me. "You asked." He shrugged. "Now why won't you come with us Al?"
"I told you! I don't want to be here in the first place and from what I've seen of your friends, I'm not impressed." Matthew rolled his eyes again (a habit of his I was quickly realizing).
"You're coming Alfred, I don't care what you say or do but god dammit you are not going to make me late to this show!" It was as close to yelling as I'd ever heard him: I couldn't believe it. His violet eyes had gone a deep amethyst, his fists were balled at his sides, and just when I thought he was about to start yellin or smash my lights out or somethin, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
"Look Alfred, I know you're scared but that is no reason to start acting like a brat. I know we don't know each other as much as we should, but I do know that was never you, so please just come with us. I promise to get you home early kay?" I gave his words some serious thought. He was right, I was acting childish and that was something I should never, had never let myself be. So with a sigh I donned my blue zip-up hoodie and moved toward the door. "I ain't scared."
The walk to The City Never Sleeps club was a short one, or at least that's what Matt said, but if I hadn't grown up on a ranch I knew I'd of prolly keeled over as we walked down the steps into the basement venue. At the bottom, smoke instantly engulfed us and I wrinkled my nose at how dingy the place was, like if I touched anything I was sure to get a disease. The music was wailin so loud I could feel it through my heavy work boots and the amount of metal on people's faces was honestly startin to scare me. I had never pegged Matt to be part of this crowd, especially with his whole workin for a school thing, but I quickly chalked it up to Gilbert's influence as I sent a silent prayer that Ma would never know how I was spending my first night in New York seein as she'd prolly have a heart attack.
The group wasn't hard to spot. With Francis' platinum blond hair pulled back into that "sophisticated" low pony with a ribbon and upper class slacks an silk shirt, he stuck out like a sore thumb. The rest was an eclectic mash-up of both normal folk and… not so normal…
"So the Cowboy decided to get over his temper tantrum after all and grace us with his presence huh?" a strange accent said silencing the table as we neared. I looked at the brunet woman who had spoken and sneered as she cackled.
"Elizabeta be nice to him!" the refined looking fella with glasses and a snobbish air about 'im to her left scolded.
"Yes Elizabeta you shouldn't be so obnoxious to strangers!" a super pale guy with red eyes (and were those seriously fangs?!) who sat next to Specs chuckled making the brunette, Elizabeta, bristle with rage.
"What are you even doing here you freak! I honestly can't name a single person here who wants you to be!" the table then erupted into a giant shouting match and my eye twitched as Matthew sat on Francis' lap and began to make out with him.
"Yo guys calm down! We're all friends here right?" a blond guy with wild hair tried to call but all he really managed to do was spill his draft on the pretty blonde girl next to him.
"Ve~ Cowboy you can come sit with me, Luddy, and Kiku if you want!" a bouncy boy sitting toward the end of the table who seemed way to young to have that glass of red wine in front of 'im called out gesturin to the empty chair next to a quiet Asian kid. The large blond that was next to the (was he Italian? I think that's the accent) kid was kinda scarin me but he looked about the most sane person in this place so I accepted. "Are you Matthew's twin? He never mentioned a twin before but then again we don't really talk all that much he's just always around Francis who secretly scares me but don't tell anyone! But anyways that's so cool if you guys are twins! People think that me and Lovi, he's the one that's yelling at Antonio down there on the end, but yeah, people think that we're twins but he's actually a year older than me. He can be mean but that's what big brothers are supposed to be right? Who's older you or Mattie?" he only stopped to take a sip from his glass and it was then that the Asian turned to me.
"I'm sorry about Feli-Chan he likes to talk a lot." I narrowed my eyes at 'im in confusion.
"Feli-Chan's a pretty strange name idin'it?" the little group laughed.
"Chan is a term of endearment in the Japanese culture, Alfred was it?" the Asian explained.
"Yeah." I snuck a glance down the table to see Elizabeta leanin over, tryin to wipe the beer off the pretty blonde girl as she hollered at the tall blond... Jesus there were too many blonds at this table! And why did they all have strange accents? Was I the only American here?! "And me and Matt aren't twins, we're cousins. I'm just visiting for a coupl-a moths."
"I'm going to get another drink before the show, can I get you something Alfred?" the large blond guy next to the Italian kid stood, speakin to me in a thick German accent.
"Um no thanks…" I trailed off feelin my cheeks heat up in embarrassment, hopin that he'd just leave it at that.
"What kind of guy comes to a bar and doesn't drink?!" the loud guy who spilled his drink earlier shouted down to us, makin the boy beside 'im roll his eyes as he tried to push 'im away.
"I can't." I said feelin dumb.
"He's too young guys." Matthew said from his new seat between Francis and Elizabeta.
"What?! How young are you Cowboy?" the pale blond asked turnin his blazing eyes on me.
"Eighteen." I was burnin a hole into the table with my eyes, wishin I coulda just said no to Ma and stayed home where I belonged.
"Eighteen?! Christ Matthew you've brought us a frickin baby!" Elizabeta cackled. I was beginnin to really hate that woman.
"Hey lay off him Liza the boy is going to be a hero after all." Francis called with a glint in his eyes that made me wanna murder 'im.
"Francis." Matthew hissed. That was it, I refused to be subjected to this bullshit anymore! But just as I was about to get up and leave a voice cut through the club sharp and loud callin everyone's attention to the stage where Gilbert stood with the rest of his band. He was still wearin his holey jeans but they were now accompanied by a shredded red t-shirt, heavy combat boots still firmly in place. His ruby eyes flashed in the stage lightin, makin 'im look dangerous and, as much as the guy pissed me off, I had to admit that he belonged up there, commandin everyone's attention like the god he claimed to be. I turned my attention from the loud German to the other members of PENN. To the right of Gilbert was a short-ish slender and pretty boy with bleach blond hair (god damn what is with all these blondes?!). His baby blue t-shirt and white skinny jeans stuck out boldly against the rest of the band, behind 'im was an obviously tall guy with gravity defyin dirty blond hair, and finally my gaze landed on him.
His unruly hay colored hair shaded his shimmerin emerald eyes that sat under thick yet attractive eyebrows. The green was only enhanced by a thick rim of black, and single silver stud glittered on either side of his perfect bottom lip. When he moved his right arm, I could see a scripty and beautiful font runnin on the inside of it and I felt a burnin need to see that tattoo up close, to have him up close.
My sexuality had never been a comfortable subject with me, no one, absolutely no one knew and I had planned on keepin it that way. But one look at that guitarist and God almighty was I rarin to shout my deepest darkest secret from the top of the Empire State Building if it meant I could have a shot with 'im.
Suddenly New York City was a whole hell of a lot more appealin.