Car Radio
A/N: Just a one-shot I came up with while listening to Twenty-One Pilots. This isn't my first fanfiction. Well, technically, it's my first one writing alone. I usually write with my sister. If there's any grammar mistakes or spelling errors please tell me in the reviews. Thank you for reading. –Sadist the Boy
Someone stole my car radio the other day. I know, who would steal a car radio? I don't get it either. I haven't really replaced it yet. Those things cost money, you know. I don't have as much money as one would think. As America, I have a crap load of money. I mean, I'm practically rich. But as Alfred, I don't have a lot. I'm not allowed to spend America's money for personal use so I have to have a job and get paid like everyone else.
I drove quietly in my blue 1967 Shelby Mustang GT500. It was pretty old but I took care of her as if she was my own baby. I've had her for quite a while. I never had enough money to upgrade to a new car, not that I'd want to. You see, I'm a little like Dean Winchester with his beautiful 1967 Chevy Impala. The only difference is that it wasn't passed down to me by my father. Actually, I never knew my father.
Now that I think about it, all I remember is Mother. It's been so long since she died by I remember everything about her. She had jet black hair and beautiful dark skin. Her voice was always so melodic and soothing, and she had the best singing voice I've ever heard. I remember how she was always so strict whenever enemy tribes approached us. She'd tell me to stay silent and don't speak.
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I also remember how she died…
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L-Let's stop thinking about that for now.
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I wonder how everyone is doing. Probably better than I am. I don't even know why I bother thinking about them. They all hate me anyways. Ugh, I can't drive with all these stressful and depressing thoughts. Thank god, I'm on a dirt road by the pond rather than a highway with a bunch of other cars. I pull my car and park in the grass before sitting on the hood and staring out into the pond.
As I think about it, I realize I don't really have friends. Kiku is heavily annoyed by me, I can tell. He's really the only friend that I have besides Feli and Lovino. Now that I think about it, Lovino is my only real friend. He knows the real me.
Lovino and I became friends several years back. I was holding a meeting up in New York City and I was showing him around the fashion district. He was pretty surprised that I actually cared about fashion. Soon after that, he should me around Rome and Milan when he held the meeting. Somehow, a friendship just formed and he realized I wasn't the loud blubbering idiot I pretended to be during meetings. We actually have a lot in common and just get on really well. Then, Feli and I started talking and pretty much hit it off as well. Not as much as Lovino and I did though.
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You know, I was in love before. Twice before actually. The first time I fell in love was with Amelia Earhart. She was a lovely lady. She was brave and she respected me and liked me. Not as America but as myself. As Alfred. Of course, I knew it was never meant to be and she got married. I was devastated when she died. The next time, and last time, I fell in love was with Marilyn Monroe. She was so different. She was courageous and brave and accepting. Of course, she was human so it wasn't meant to be. I was horrified when I found out she overdosed. She was my first as well…
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I need a new radio.
I have a headcanon that Romano and America would become best friends and bond over their mutual love for fashion. New York is the #2 Fashion capital in the world. Rome is #5. So yeah. I took Fashion Merchandising my Sophomore year of high school. :P (It wasn't by choice) :P