Every Rose has its torn
AN: Hello fellow readers its AllyNari! Just warning you this is my first Hetalia fan fiction YAY! But anyways I would like to thank you already for reading the Prologue of the story!
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia!
Full Summary:
At the year 1997, Arthur Kirkland, a junior in high school is ready to leave school. Great right not really, living with his father and being gay isn't perfect. With most students at the school are homophobes, Arthur keeps it as a secret—but in love with his childhood friend, Alfred F. Jones didn't make it better. Life for Arthur wasn't that great, already depress with life Arthur visits his friend Francis Bonnefoy's bar. There at the bar, Arthur plays a song where he is asks to join a band. Can Arthur become a legend or will he sink into his depression.
Prologue
Music creates a life of many emotions but those who are willing to play; its dangerous games may become a legend.
It was once a quiet city with hardly any visitor—but as time slowly passed by, the population grew. Many of the old buildings were rebuilding, making the city modern.
An old bar had a sign attracting anyone who would walk past it. Crowds poured into the bar—they weren't there to drink their lives away, but to listen to the lonely musician upon the stage.
Walking inside the living bar, laughter and talking were found at every corner and the smell of cigar and alcohol filled the air. Sound of cups slamming on the tables, for some who came to drink. At the far left corner was an old stage. It was a simple, red wooden stage while the middle of it was a speechless microphone and a cold chair.
There at the seating area, people were enjoying themselves—taking to one another but there was one who sat alone. He had blond hair and was quite messy to his liking. The blond wore a black suit and on the floor beside him was a matching black case. Just for a little taste, he drank in fear of his adductions. Once he finished, he grabbed his case keeping his head low and began to walk towards the spotlight. The man was neither tall nor short. A few noticed him and smiled. There at the stage he placed his guitar case on the floor. He sat at the chair and opened the black case—showing the black acoustic guitar to the audiences. More people began to notice him, and the place began to quiet down. The blond man went up to the microphone and cleared his throat. Finally, he made eye contact, showing his bright green, lonely eyes. The blond licked his lips as he placed one of his fingertips on the head of the microphone.
Tap1—Everyone got quiet.
Tap2—Everyone's eyes were on him.
Tap3—The song began with a sad tone. The song meant everything to him. The first song he has ever written. A song from his heart to his crush from high school—his first love. The musician closed his eyes and imaged—the crowd disappeared. Now, it was just him and his guitar. He opened his mouth and the words of the song flow out. Memories came to mind.
"Been in love with this blue eyes—with ah smile made of gold"
The blond, the singer's name was Arthur Kirkland.
AN: Once again, thank you for reading the prologue. Please do tell me if you like it or not. I hope you like it!