ACK. It's been two weeks since I've finished a single chapter of anything since school has started and stuff. S:
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
PuNk boi
Chapter 1: American Idiot
Yet another day in this intellectual wasteland, Arthur despondently thought to himself.
He yawned as his ear buds delivered waves of hardcore punk into his mind.
It wasn't like he hated school so much or anything, but seriously? Just look at their current education system. He felt personally that he could do so much more by himself. What was there that he could learn at school which he couldn't teach himself?
Plus, high school was basically a hierarchy. You either get to the top, fit in, or the worst of the worst – be an outcast. A mad rush to see whose best and whose the worst. And all according to social standards and "fashion sense" of course. Where was the equality?
Of course his bloody school had to be one of those who went by stereotypes. What were his parents even thinking? Shipping him off to America, saying that it would be so much better for him there when it was clear that all they wanted out of it was to get him out of the way.
He shot a glare at a trio of girls sending flirty looks his way.
When will they ever realise that their efforts are fruitless, Arthur sighed inwardly.
1. He hated attention. 2. How could he even like those self-conceited girls? 3. With no relation to number two, he was pre-tty sure he was gay.
Obviously no one but himself knew. Even if he told his only what could hardly be considered a friend Gilbert, he would probably shrug it off, not caring about anything other than his (apparently) awesome self.
"Hey, sucker!"
Well, talk about the devil.
"So I see that you're making one of your rare appearances today."
"Ja, there's some batshit major assignment given out today. Still gotta keep my grades acceptable you know? Or my dad's gonna blow a hole in his head or something." Gilbert replied absentmindedly.
Arthur gave Gilbert a weird look and then proceeded to stalk off to class with the other trailing along behind him.
"Today you will be given an assignment to work with in pairs. You have three weeks to work on this assignment and it will account for 60 percent of your final mark this year."
Most of the class's reaction consisted of several loud groans and a loud remark of "this school is fucking working us to death!" from Gilbert which in a normal classroom situation would have probably resulted in the delinquent being sent to the dean.
But of course you had to tolerate that sort of behaviour from a student whose father was especially good friends with the head honcho of the school. And of course also when the particular father was the vice-principal of the school as well.
The teacher merely waved Gilbert's words away as if they were nothing more than a mere buzzing fly.
Arthur rolled his eyes at all this and thought dramatically; oh, boy. The horror! The blasphemy! The terror! Big deal.
Meanwhile, the rest of the class had been furiously pairing themselves up, snagging their best friends and generally trying not to get paired up with anyone they expressed any form of disgust or dislike for.
As usual Arthur refused to be paired up with any of the ignorant idiots in the class and was the only one left without a partner.
Even Gilbert had managed to get someone to do the project with him, though who that person was escaped Arthur's mind.
"Ah, I see you're the only person in the class without a partner now Mr Kirkland." Some of the class snickered at this statement.
Arthur scowled.
"Well I'm afraid you'll have the pair up with Alfred, who is running late us usual." Their teacher was very strict in matters concerning punctuality, only forgiving if there was an extremely valid reason. And it wasn't valid until she deemed it so.
And in her book, football practice before school was NOT a valid reason.
Just then, Alfred magically materialised in the doorway of the classroom, out of breath with football kit in tow.
"Well Arthur, look who's here."
Arthur grumbled something unintelligible under his breath.
"Sorry Miss! Football practice as usual." Alfred said in his chirpy voice.
"Just sit down beside Arthur, Jones."
"Who's Arthur?"
At this, the whole class burst into fits of laughter.
Arthur just sat there in his sit, crossing his arms huffily and fuming, his face grower redder and redder with rage at every moment and resisting the urge to give the flip to that bloody American idiot.
"He's the one over there. Now go Jones. He'll tell you about the assignment given to the class."
Alfred's face fell as he caught sight of the short Brit with the mussed up hair and the gigantic eyebrows. Damn, he was hoping he would get a partner that would actually co-operate with him. Instead he got a package of pent-up teenage angst which was currently giving him a death glare.
"Hi! I'm Alfred; you should be Arthur…right?"
The other blonde just stared at him with disgust.
"Come on dude, talk to me."
"Look, if I fail this assignment, my grades will seriously be in jeopardy."
"Oh shut up, like I even care about your bloody grades." Arthur snapped.
"Aren't you meant to say; oh yay! It speaks or something."
"You are speaking!" Alfred replied dumbly.
"Someone certainly doesn't get sarcasm." Arthur muttered to himself.
"Huh, what?"
"Never mind, don't mind what I say. Go live in your own little ideal varsity world."
"Kesesese~ I almost pity prep boy here. He's fucking clueless I tell you." Gilbert sidled up to their desk, project-mate in tow.
"Oh my god Mattie! How'd you end up with that douche bag ?"
"Fucking hell, du kleines arschloch! How dare you!" Gilbert spat out.
Matthew looked back and forth between his brother and Gilbert, feeling helplessly left out. On the other hand, Arthur was grinning, amusement highly evident on his face.
"Stop it Alfred." Matthew whispered meekly.
"God, whatever Matthew."
"What did blondie just say?" Gilbert teased, pretending not to be able to hear what Matthew had just said. "Come one, just say it once more. Won't hurt right?"
Matthew now wore a look of distress on his face, looking at Alfred for help.
"I-I-I asked Alfred to stop arguing with you."
"Say what? I still can't here you." Gilbert cupped his palm to his ear and leaned closer to Matthew, a smirk on his face.
"I-I- Alf-to stop arguing…" The other half of his sentence inaudible.
"Speak up Birdie, still can't hear you…" Gilbert continued pressuring poor Matthew.
Birdie? Where had that come from? At this stage, Arthur was beginning to feel sorry and even worried about Matthew. The sensitive boy was now trembling, tears pooling into his eyes. He glanced back to Alfred who was seemingly oblivious of Matthew's current predicament.
Of course his first instinct was to obviously stop Gilbert. But one should never, ever, ever get on the bad side of Gilbert Beilschimdt. He had a powerful dad, had money, had connections with the underworld and most importantly, he didn't care. At all. He had seen the result of those who got on his nerves before and it wasn't pretty.
"Speak, you twat!" Gilbert narrowed his eyes at Matthew, trying to gauge how he would react.
"Gilbert, stop it." Arthur tried reasoning with him.
"Shut up!" Gilbert snarled back.
Several things happened at once after that. Alfred finally noticed his cousin being bullied. His face turned into an expression of fury and he lunged for Gilbert. Arthur shouted a warning at Gilbert, who whipped his head around, putting his face in the path of Alfred's fist, which came colliding straight into him. Matthew burst into tears and the whole class stood in stoned silence watching all of this.
The duo crashed onto the floor in a flurry, sending tables and chairs flying and various on-lookers scurrying. The fight didn't get any farther than them tackling each other down and a couple of punches thrown before the teacher got several male students to restrain both of them.
"You sicko!" Alfred yelled, huffily trying to shake off the two guys restraining him and grimacing in pain at his sore knuckles.
"And that was none of your business! You fucking bastard!" Gilbert strained and kicked at those unfortunate enough to be holding his arms back.
"Gott, Scheiße!" Gilbert's nose was bleeding from Alfred's first blow, which would've caused a broken nose, with the amount of strength it contained but unfortunately, Alfred's aim was ah, let's just say, slightly off. And other than giving him a bloody nose and making his left cheekbone throb like hell (it was probably going to bruise later), it didn't deliver the desired effect. He smeared the blood on the back of his hand and gave Alfred a death glare for making him bleed, his reddish eyes gleaming with rage.
Matthew was being consoled by a couple of girls, patting his back in gestures of comfort.
"Bring them down the nurse. And remember to keep them at least 5 metres away from each other." She looked at the sobbing Matthew before continuing, "bring him to the nurse's as well girls. I'll send someone for all of them after consulting Mr Vargas." She shook her head disapprovingly at Gilbert as he struggled against his captors as they towed him out of the room.
Arthur thought he was forgotten and was slinking behind into the crowd of students at the back of the room until the teacher barked. "And you as well Kirkland. Don't think I didn't see you. Accompany them down the office. We'll see what is to be done of you as well after that."
Arthur scowled again as he jogged after them.
AN: ...I hope that didn't bore you to death or something. :O Sorry I made Gilbo such a bastard (POOR MATTIE) Should I continue this?
Translation of Gilbert's German (aka swears. tut tut, Gilly)
du kleines arschloch- you little asshole
Gott, Scheiße!- God, shit!
REVIEWS MAKE GILBERT EVEN AWESOMER!
Song: American Idiot by Green Day & PuNk boi based off sk8er boi by Avril Lavigne
*NOTE* The songs are just titles, they don't affect the theme of the chapter.
