I'm wide awake

I'm wide awake

I'm wide awake

Yeah, I was in the dark

I was falling hard

With an open heart

I'm wide awake

How did I read the stars so wrong?

Arthur sobbed into his pillow shaped like a teacup, a present from Francis. "Why? Why? Why?" he asked between sobs. He really thought Alfred was the one! Arthur loved Alfred with all his heart. He bought him everything, gave him everything during their little games, and he would die for him! The blonde haired man let out a cry of pain; one so heartbreaking and unreal that even Netherlands would fall to his knees and cry. Arthur threw the pillow to the ground and screamed "Damn you Alfred! Damn you!" He had just found Alfred in bed with his brother Matthew. Matthew looked like he was in heaven. The look of pure bliss on his face was unbearable. At least he was sorry; all Alfred said was "Arthur, I couldn't help it. I love Matthew". Arthur cursed at Alfred and screamed "GET OUT! BOTH OF YOU GET OUT!" Alfred seemed perfectly calm as he dressed himself and packed his bags. Alfred watched the younger nation from the window. Alfred hailed a cab, and that was it, he was gone. Arthur let out another blood curdling scream and dragged himself into the kitchen. He opened up the pantry and took out three bottles of French wine, another gift from Francis. He opened the first one and drank it in less than five minutes. He did the same with the next two bottles and soon Arthur was lying on the couch, drunk. Tears continued to pour down his cheeks and he screamed "Alfred! Alfred!" in hope that the American would appear and become the hero again. Arthur finally gave up and became angry. Very angry. He took the three bottles and one at a time threw them at the picture of Alfred that he had framed and hung up on his wall. Then, Arthur collapsed onto the floor into a pile of misery, pain, and tears.

I'm wide awake

And now it's clear to me

That everything you see

Ain't always what is seems

I'm wide awake

Yeah, I was dreaming for so long.

Arthur continued sobbing and began to think about what it was like when he and Alfred had first met. Alfred seemed so perfect! He was carefree, handsome, and, well, a hero! He always told Arthur he loved him no matter what he said or did. He would leave Arthur presents and even bought him a cute puppy once! The Scottish Terrier was no longer playful, or cute for that matter. All he did was sit there and growl at Arthur. Arthur should have seen through Alfred's little act. He shouldn't have kissed him, he shouldn't have admitted that he loved him, and he definitely shouldn't have slept with him. What was he thinking? No one ever loved Arthur, why should Alfred be any different? "Damn it" Arthur said. He tried to walk into the kitchen and get another bottle of wine but a knock at the door stopped him. His heart stopped, could it be Alfred? Maybe it was! Arthur sprinted to the door and yanked it open but unfortunately, it was only Francis. "What do you want you bloody frog?" Arthur asked. "Mon ami, are you drunk again?" Francis asked. When Arthur didn't say anything, Francis scooped the smaller nation into his arms. Much to his surprise, Arthur didn't protest when Francis picked him up. Francis carried Arthur into his bedroom and carefully placed him in his bed. He covered the blonde with a warm blanket and placed a small kiss on his cheek. "Bonne nuit, Arthur" he whispered. Francis quietly walked out of the bedroom and closed the door behind him. He walked into the living room and began to clean up the tissues, glass, and stuffing from the teacup pillow off the floor. As he was cleaning up the glass, Francis noticed the picture of Alfred although now, it was all torn up from the shards of glass. He sighed. "Mon aime, life has been too harsh on you" he said. When everything was cleaned up, Francis got a blanket and a pillow from the closet and fell asleep on the couch. Tomorrow would be another day, who knows what it would bring for Arthur.