"You're telling me that we don't have anyone to sing the national anthem?" America said in disbelief, looking at the event organizer. He was supposed to be worrying about this, so why was Alfred also panicking? Well, he had some pretty good reasons:
First of all, he had invited all the countries to this baseball game to show them just how awesome the sport is. Second, he was going to emphasize the fact that he has such great nationalism in America. Third, England actually came to this event and America will not stand having to listen to England laugh over the fact that no one was going to sing the American National Anthem.
The event organizer gave him a desperate look, "I guess we'll have to find someone who can do it."
"By 'we', you mean me, right?" America said with a sigh. He was one of the few people who volunteered to help out in the game preparations. Plus, he was the one who promised to hire the original singer in the first place so finding a new one was also part of his job.
"I would really appreciate it, and I know you have plenty of connections," the event organizer replied. "I'm sure you'll find somebody."
"I understand. Well, I'll find someone who can sing the anthem. The game starts in thirty minutes right?"
"Yup. Thanks Alfred, I knew I could count on you."
Alfred waved goodbye and raced off to find his brother.
***
"Mattie!" America shouted, running to his shy little brother.
"Hey, Alfred!" Canada greeted.
Alfred could waste no time in further pleasantries, "Mattie, quick! Do you know how to sing my national anthem?"
Mattie looked confused. "No Alfred, I don't know to sing it. Why?"
"Help me, Mattie, please! The singer we hired called in sick today and no one is coming to sing my anthem."
"Alfred, that's terrible!" Mattie said sympathetically.
"So, can you help me find someone who can sing it?" Alfred asked.
"Why don't you do it?" Matthew suggested.
"I can't be singing for myself! What kind of country sings for himself? Besides, I can't embarrass myself in front of the other countries.
"Hmmm, wait," Matthew started thinking of countries who could know Alfred's anthem. Honestly, only one came to mind. "I think we should ask England..."
"No, Matthew. I do not want to ask any other country to sing my anthem, I only asked you because nobody would recognize you anyway. If I ever do ask one of the others for help it absolutely, positively will not be England. What makes you think he memorized my anthem in anyway?"
"There's a good chance that he knows how to sing it, he's really informed about those kinds of things. Anyway, I don't know who else we can get to sing it, unless you get some random person from the audience. Hey, can't you use the microphone to call for a volunteer or something?"
"Mattie! Do you know how embarrassing that is? I think you're purposely coming up with ideas that I can't use," America accused.
"I'm sorry Alfred," Canada apologised, "But really, you should ask England."
"Ask me what?" a voice nearby asked. Speak of the Englishman and the Englishman will come.
"Alfred needs—" Matthew started before being interrupted by Alfred's hand covering his mouth.
"Iggy," America complained like a little kid, "Mind your own business."
"I heard my name so I have the right to demand to know what my involvement is in your conversation, bloody git. Don't tell me to mind my own business," England snapped.
"Oh, whatever," America said, stomping off. "I don't have time for this."
England turned to the forgotten Canada, "What was that all about."
"I'll tell you if you promise to help," Matthew said softly but with unmistakable firmness.
"Fine," England agreed. "Now, tell me."
***
Failing to find anyone who would sing his national anthem, America resolved to just hide himself (and his shame) from all the other countries until after the game. The excitement of baseball would surely make them forget the whole embarrassing incident. He involuntarily checked his watch: it was three minutes 'til the scheduled start of the game.
He could imagine it all now: people eager to see who would sing the anthem, the music playing but no one would be singing the lyrics, confusion on the faces of proud Americans. It would be a scandal for months to come and a running joke among the countries for at least a year.
America almost threw a chair at Francis when he heard the French nation enter his hiding place (AKA the storage room). How could Francis bother him at a time like this?
"Bonjour Amérique," France greeted cheerfully. "What are you doing moping about in a storage closet during one of your baseball games?"
"Why would I tell you?" America retorted.
"No need to get angry, mon cheri. I was simply wondering why you won't come out to honor your national anthem. It will be sung any minute now."
"It won't," America covered his face with his hands. "I couldn't find anyone to sing my national anthem," he admitted, too miserable to care if Francis teased him.
"I'm not so sure about that, mon cheri. You should check your facts before you make yourself so sad."
"I don't know what you're talking about Francis," America said in irritation.
"Wait and see, Amérique. Wait and see," France just replied with a smile.
As if on cue, the announcer's voice was heard throughout the stadium, "Ladies and gentlemen, we ask that you please rise and remove your hats for the singing of our national anthem."
In a daze, America stood up and followed France out of the storage room. The introduction of the anthem played and America shut his eyes, as if to hide from the embarrassment.
To his great surprise, a familiar voice started accompanying the melody with words. If he wasn't able to find someone to sing the anthem then who was doing it now? He forced himself to stand in attention (despite the shock) and sing the lyrics of his anthem along with the familiar voice.
Oh, say can you see by the dawn's early light
What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming?
Whose broad stripes and bright stars thru the perilous fight,
O'er the ramparts we watched were so gallantly streaming?
And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there.
Oh, say does that star-spangled banner yet wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave?
When the music ended he quickly looked down to see who had been singing his anthem. He quickly spotted a blond man, stepping away from the microphone. The man turned slightly in his direction and Alfred recognized his face.
It was... "Arthur?" he asked aloud, in shock.
***
Alfred allowed himself to forget the whole anthem incident and enjoy the game but as soon as it was over, he ran straight to his brother and asked, "Tell me, was that England who was singing my national anthem?"
"Yeah," Matthew replied. "I told you he knew how to sing it."
"How did he— why did he—? Matthew, explain!" Alfred said in confusion.
"Well, after you left (and forgot me again, by the way) Arthur asked me what was the matter with you and I told him...in exchange for his helping with your dilemma. So I told him about your problem and he said, "How am I going to help him with a stupid situation like that?" So I suggested that he..."
"Sing my anthem, right?" Alfred finished for him.
"Yeah," Canada agreed.
"Why would England help me with something like that anyway?" America wondered aloud.
"I don't know," shrugged Matthew, ask him yourself. Alfred turned to see Arthur standing alone a few steps behind them. "Be right back," Alfred muttered to Matthew, already running toward the lone Brit.
"Iggy!" America cheerfully greeted.
"What do you want, bloody git?"
In reply, Alfred just gave his friend a big hug. "Get off of me, America," England squirmed away from America's bear hug. "What was that for, anyway?"
"As if you don't know," America teased. "Thanks for what you did, you know, singing my anthem."
"I wouldn't have done it if Matthew didn't trap me in my own words, so don't thank me," England just huffed.
"Sure, Iggy. By the way, I didn't know you memorized my national anthem."
"I memorized it purely for diplomatic reasons, so don't get any ideas, you git," Arthur defended himself.
"Right. Well, whatever your motives were...thanks," Alfred smiled, seeing England's blush making an appearance.
"It was nothing, really," England insisted.
"You know what? I'm taking you to McDonald's and we are getting you a hamburger. I want to make sure you don't call me an ungrateful sod." America then proceeded to drag England to the nearest branch of McDonald's ignoring England's half genuine cries of resistance.
Canada smiled, for once he was happy to be forgotten.