Tea for Four in a Lift
{THE FIRST CHAPTER OF TFFIAL. PREPARE YOURSELVES. WHOOOOOOP.
Song of the chapter: That's What You Get by Paramore}
Arthur Kirkland woke up in the middle of the night to a few loud, strange sounds coming from next door. It took his mind a while to process what those sounds were, and his face flushed red as he took it all in.
"Oh, bloody hell! Not at three in the morning!" he yelled, throwing pillows at the wall in a desperate attempt to stop the moans.
However, they continued as if Arthur was a ghost.
Arthur covered his head in pillows as he tried his best to ignore the noises and go to sleep. It felt like hours, until finally…
'Hey….I'm actually feeling sleepy...' he thought.
Only for his thoughts to be interrupted by the beeping of his alarm.
"ARE YOU FU-"
One million curses and a black magic spell later…
Arthur stopped being a little bitch and decided to get up to freshen up and make some tea. Only to find out that he had finished all his Earl Grey and had to drink *whispers* coffee.
It's a good thing though; he could hardly keep his eyes open due to the people getting FUNKYYYY next door.
He put two slices of bread into the toaster and set the timer to two minutes before going to the fridge and pulling out the butter and jam. (Do you put jam in the fridge? I do, but I'm not sure if you're supposed to.) Arthur walked back to the counter only for the toast to pop out.
"SHIT!" he cried, before pulling himself together and buttering the toast and spreading them with jam.
Arthur chewed slowly before checking the time and then shitting his pants; he had 10 minutes to be at the office, and his workplace was 20 minutes away.
He shoved the toast down his throat before struggling into his dress pants and his white shirt. Frantically buttoning it up, he shoved on some Union Jack cufflinks before pulling on his blazer. Arthur slipped on his shoes before grabbing his bag and heading out door.
The ride to work was simple enough.
OR SO HE THOUGHT.
Arthur was stuck in traffic; the office was still quite far, and he had five minutes until he had to be there.
He smashed his head on the wheel repeatedly, attracting the attention of some people on the pavement and in other cars.
"HOSER!" a Canadian man shouted at him, going by on a bike.
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH MAPLE BITCH-FACE!" he yelled out the window, only to receive a sincere smile and a free bottle of maple syrup to the face.
"Have maple! Tu comprehend?"
"BASTARD!"
And Canadians were meant to be nice. Bloody…hosers.
Arthur finally managed to get to work.
BUT HE WAS TEN MINUTES LATE.
He drove into the car park and parked his car before entering the building. Arthur ran towards the lift (I think they're called elevators in America…other places I'm not so sure) and his slender frame slipped through the doors before they closed.
Arthur pressed 17, the floor he worked on and then leant against the wall in an attempt to catch his breath.
"Bad morning?" He opened an eye to reveal three other guys staring at him curiously.
"…'Bad' doesn't cut it. I'd go for 'fucking bat-shit crazy'," Arthur murmured.
One guy had classic blue sweetheart eyes, sandy blond hair with a stubborn cowlick and glasses perched on his nose. One had shoulder length, wavy blond hair, blue eyes and a rather…suggestive smirk. The last guy had jaw length blond hair, but in a slightly washed out shade of blond. He had violet, hopeful eyes.
"I'm Alfred F. Jones! Are you new? I haven't really seen you before around here, speaking of, you work on floor 17? Do you know this one guy who's all creepy, smiley and Russian? Yeah he's really freaking creepy and I don't want to get to know him and I'm scared that if I talk to you I'll catch his creepy commie germs and you know how I feel about commie germs, right guys?"
"Right," the other two chorused.
Arthur rolled his eyes before standing up straight.
"You need to stop. And I'm not new. I've been working here for four straight years. As for you guys, I've not seen you before. Not new though, I'm assuming, seeing as this one wouldn't stop running his mouth."
"I've been here for a year," the one with violet eyes whispered.
"Two!" Alfred added.
"Three years," the other one said in a distinctive French accent.
"And we all work on floor 18!" they said in unison.
"Right. So, am I getting names or wha-" Arthur stopped mid-sentence.
"Is it just me…or has this lift not moved for a few minutes?" he said with wide eyes.
"Dude…you're right! It hasn't moved for forever!"
"Noticed that."
"I did…"
Arthur sighed and clicked the emergency call button.
"Oh for God's sake." He murmured.
"What?" Alfred said.
"The emergency call button is busted."
"Great, that means we'll be here for a while. I'd like to be friends with you, eyebrows!"
"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY YOU ANNOYING SHI-"
"MY MOM WON'T LET ME USE THOSE WORDS!" the American cried.
Arthur sighed and joined all the others on the floor.
"Anyway, as I was saying…am I getting any names?"
"I'm Alfred F. Jo-"
"YOU ALREADY TOLD ME THAT."
"I'm Francis Bonnefoy, ohonhonhonhon~" the French one added, stroking Arthur's thigh. He moved away quickly, closer to the American.
"…I'm Matthew Williams, eh," the quiet one said.
Arthur sighed (this was becoming his habit) and leaned on the wall.
'What the hell have I done to deserve this…I'm stuck in a lift with two idiots and something that won't even talk.'
"Hey! What's your name, eyebrows?" Alfred stuck his tongue out and winked.
"Arthur Kirkland…and if you call me that again there'll be three people and a dead body in this lift."
"Artie…WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO KILL YOURSELF?!" Alfred weeped.
"…bloody hell."
Ten minutes later
Ten minutes had passed, and nobody had said anything. Alfred kept poking Arthur's cheek, Francis was stroking Arthur's thigh and Matthew hadn't said anything at all. Arthur leant back. Sure, he was being touched up by complete strangers (talking to people in a lift doesn't make them your best friends) but he was enjoying these minutes of pure, peaceful silence.
'I could get used to this…'
OR SO HE THOUGHT.
"Man! I am super freaking hungry! Artie, have you got any hamburgers? Huh?"
"No…I don't have any…gee…do you have any tea?" Arthur added sarcastically.
"Nah, but get this! Francis owned this super famous café in France!"
"How does this add to me getting my tea?"
"So, if I did my math correctly…" Alfred pulled out a marker and began to draw random numbers, letters, powers, roots and brackets to form something along the lines of an equation, "IT MEANS HE HAS THE FOOD!"
"Prove it."
"Hey waiter," Alfred beamed, "can we get tea for four in a lift?"
I hope you enjoyed the first chapter.
I actually doubt you will, though.
This is the first chapter, so we're just warming up and getting to know the characters.
I plan to set every chapter as an hour. And they'll be stuck in this lift for however many hours (chapters) I choose.
Every chapter we will get to know something new about the characters.
Something evil, mysterious, dark, sinister, something buried deep within the characters' pasts.
You'll learn about Arthur too (duh).
Did you expect to read the entire story trusting him?
You don't even know what Arthur has done.
I include jokes to lighten the mood.
I hope to make this story as big as Gutters (in the Hetalia fandom) one day.
I hope you stay with me during this story.
I'll include a 'song of the chapter', the song I thought of or was listening to during the making of the chapters.
Enjoy.
And bye.
See you soon!
-Brinley (RivailleKirkland)