Chapter One

The clock ticked. Its hollow sound resonated off the classroom walls and filled the strained ears of every tired student. Every second that went past was another second closer to the freedom of outdoors and the escape of endless tortuous lessons with the same endearingly monotonous teachers. Alfred tapped his pen on the edge of his desk, his pages of triangles and algebraic formulae had long been abandoned as he stared out of the window watching the cars go by. His eyes flitted to the clock once more as he saw, to his dismay, that he still had five minutes left to endure before he was free to go.

Alfred wondered how, Ludwig (his stern classmate and best friend) was coping in his physics lesson. The two had a strong friendship which many of their peers questioned as they hugely contrasting personalities. Alfred F. Jones was a loud-mouthed American who loved food, videogames, and horror movies (though they tended to scare the crap out of him). He was talented at science and sports. Ludwig, on the other hand, was a focused German who enjoyed spending time with his dogs, reading, running and any other form of exercise or fitness training. Ludwig's was particularly gifted at sports but he was a whizz at maths and unbeatable in his economics class. They looked different too. Alfred was tall (which was always handy on the basketball court) with wide football-player shoulders. He had a muscular tone to his body which easily concealed his small layer of fat on his stomach. His sapphire eyes were framed by a pair of thin, angular glasses and he had sandy blonde hair and there was always that one strand which never went right. Ludwig was all muscles and height and not one hair was ever out of place. His eyes were an icy blue which could turn a person to stone. Both aged seventeen, they seen as attractive and tended to gain attention from their peers.

Alfred grinned to himself as he realised that tonight was to be the night where they would attend their first session of Thornley Youth Theatre. Thornley Youth Theatre was a theatre group which Alfred had been a part of for three years only this year was going to be the best because Ludwig was going to be doing it with him (not that the German was aware of that yet). Alfred grimaced at the thought of telling Ludwig later as he realised that maybe signing Ludwig up for Youth Theatre without actually asking him could have been a bad idea. After all, Alfred loved the limelight- Ludwig, not so much. The shrill sound of the school bell rang throughout the room and Alfred shot up and grabbed his backpack. He shoved his maths book and pencil case into his bag and bolted out of the room in search of Ludwig.

He stood in the corridor, his keen eyes scanned the crowd for a familiar face. Alfred listened as the tannoy informed the students of the upcoming football game against Providence School. "Don't miss the football game tomorrow folks, the South Coast Wanderers against the Providence All-Stars. Let's show them who the real champions are, go South Coast!" Alfred was filled with a sudden adrenaline at the thought of the upcoming game and beating Providence, the school for snobs and show-offs. South Coast and Providence, both located in Thornley, shared an intense rivalry which seemed to have spiralled out of nowhere. Whenever the two schools mixed, there was sure to be trouble.

"Ludwig!" The American hollered, spotting his friend in the wave of students streaming through the corridor. Ludwig's head turned at the sound of Alfred's voice and Alfred briskly walked up to his friend, his backpack hoisted on one shoulder was heavy and loaded with books.

"Well," Ludwig began, his eyes laden with fatigue, "that's another day over."

"Um," the American hesitated as they stepped out onto the school's parking lot. The sun filled his vision and he had to shield his eyes as they walked into its encompassing beam. "Actually it's not," he confessed, biting the edge of his lip.

"What do you mean?" Ludwig asked, frowning. "What are you doing after this?"

"Actually," the American corrected, pushing his glasses up to the bridge of his nose. "You know that drama club I go to every year? Well, it's the first meeting tonight and we're going." Ludwig stared at him blankly, so Alfred decided to elaborate. "We're going to Thornley Youth Theatre tonight," he grinned. "Isn't that great? I signed us up!"

Ludwig's face held a mixture of annoyance and surprise. He sighed. "When did you do that? Why did you think I would want to do that?" His arms were folded and he jutted his lip out stubbornly. "I'm not going Alfred," he said. Alfred didn't listen. He knew his friend wouldn't let him down.

Matthew, Alfred's older twin brother, pulled up in the parking lot and beeped his horn. "Mattie's here!" the American cried, facing Ludwig apologetically. "Sorry, meet me at the Community Hall at six? Promise you'll be there?" He asked, pursing his lips into a pout and drooping his eyes to give that classic puppy-dog look.

Ludwig sighed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes. "Ja, I'll be there."

"You promise?"

Ludwig brought his phone out, set the alarm for 5:30 and showed it to Alfred. "See, it is set. I'll be there, I promise. "

"Yes!" Alfred fist-bumped the air and raced to Matthew's car. "I'll see you later," he called out, leaving a baffled Ludwig in the middle of the parking lot.

Matthew stared at his brother disapprovingly. "Aren't you going to offer him a ride?"

"Nope," he breezed, gesturing to his friend. "Gilbert's gonna pick him up in a minute."

At that exact moment, a series of loud hollers and whoops were heard from just behind them. "See?" Alfred said smugly. "He's there right now."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Why is everyone so loud here?"

Alfred poked his tongue out. "We can't all be stuck-up and quiet like those Providence kids."

Matthew nodded, chuckling slightly. "I'll agree to that." Keeping his eye on the road, Matthew started the car, thrusting it into ignition. "Anyway, how did Ludwig take that theatre thing?"

"I only just told him," Alfred admitted sheepishly. "But, I think he took it pretty well, all things considered."

"Considering what?"

Alfred shrugged. "He doesn't really like acting."

It was five o'clock and Arthur's desk was piled with books, stationary and a strong, steaming cup of tea. His Providence uniform was folded neatly and rested on his bed ready for the next day of hard work. Arthur sat at his desk, his eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration and his mouth hardened into a frown. Bloody maths… He thought, turning the pages of his questions. Why is there so much of it? Why does it even matter? His thick eyebrows rose as he saw a particularly complex simultaneous equation. Why do I need to find x and y? Can't they find themselves? Why do we even bloody care? He took a sip of his tea in an attempt to relax but whilst faced with maths papers, it was a tricky task.

Setting the cup down, Arthur turned his paper back to the beginning and re-read the first question. Maths, for Arthur, was hard. Yes, he was clever (very clever, so he had been told) but maths just really wasn't his thing. The numbers just seemed to swirl in his mind, meshing into one another and the processes were often long abandoned in favour of an irrational panic and a quick scrawl of guessed numbers. He longed for the simplicity of English. He could mould and shape the words to suit his style, he could make other people feel and that was something truly magical. English was essential to the human world. He felt that the power of words was constantly grossly undermined in place of hardened methodical subjects such as science and maths. But without passing maths, Arthur would never be accepted into a prestigious college like Yale or Stanford despite not actually wanting to do anything mathematically based at the college.

Arthur's thought process was interrupted by the sound of the British anthem that sang from his phone. Arthur, a Brit forced to move to America after the divorce of his parents, was still incredibly patriotic and couldn't wait to visit his country of origin once more.

He clicked the "answer" button without even looking at the contact. "Hello?"

"Arthur!" The Brit's closest friend Feliciano, chirped.

Instantly wary (the Italian only called when he wanted something) Arthur put the phone on loudspeaker and tried to focus his attention on his maths. "Feliciano," he greeted. "How are you?"

"I'm good thanks! I've just had dinner with Lovino but that's not why I wanted to talk." The Brit rolled his eyes. Of course that wasn't why Feliciano wanted to talk. He definitely wanted something.

Arthur sighed, placing his pen on his desk. He just wasn't focused anymore. "What do you want, Feliciano?"

"Well…" he began, trailing off as though he was a little hesitant and Arthur braced himself for the request. "This leaflet came to our house this morning and it was for the Thornley Youth Theatre and I looked at it because I like acting and then I thought that you liked acting and then I-"

"Breathe Feliciano," Arthur interrupted, "You're talking extremely fast."

"Okay." The Italian took a deep breath. "Well like I said, I know that you like acting, seeing as you're my best friend and everything and so I thought why not sign us up? So I did."

"Okay," the Brit said, smiling slightly. It was true, he really did like acting and maybe a little fun could be good for him. "Why are you telling me this now, though?" Feliciano could have just told him at school as they both shared several classes at Providence and there was always lunch break.

"Uh…." the Italian began, his voice once again drifting off. "It starts at six tonight."

Arthur's vibrant green eyes flicked to the clock on his bedroom wall. It was now quarter past five, he had forty-five minutes to get ready and get there. "Feliciano!" he scolded. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I'm sorry!" Feliciano cried. "I completely forgot!"

Arthur rolled his eyes. Sometimes his friend could be so scatter-brained. "Don't worry about it; it's at the Community Hall, yes? I should be there on time. I'll have to go now though in order to be ready." He closed his maths books, drained his cold cup of tea, grimaced and packed away his stationary. "I'll see you there, okay?" he told his friend.

"Oh okay yay! See you later Arthur!" The Italian hung up, sounding relieved that the Brit had taken it so well.

"Well," Arthur muttered, standing in front of his closet mirror. "I'd better get my acting game on, wouldn't want to look bad now, would I?" he chuckled, rolling his eyes. It was drama, Arthur's second best subject- he was a natural.

So why did he have butterflies in his stomach? He wasn't quite sure. After all, it was only Thornley's Youth Theatre, nothing life-changing was going to happen there.

Was it?

Thornley Community Hall was a small place with a small visitor count. It only opened on Tuesdays for bingo and Thursdays for Youth Theatre. As it was the first Youth Theatre of the season, the number of teenagers came in dregs. There were a few from South Coast, even fewer from Providence and some other kids from out-of-town.

The leader of the Youth Theatre, a friendly man named Chris, made everybody sit in a large circle and introduce themselves. "But no schools though," he warned. A pillar of the community, Chris was all too aware of the competition between Providence and South Coast and he was reluctant to allow that to disturb any of the acting at the Youth Theatre.

One by one, the collection of teenagers introduced themselves; shyly at first but then as the circle progressed the teens became more and more confident. Chris clasped his hands together, "Okay now that we've got that out of the way we're just going to do some workshops for today and then I'll discuss auditions for our annual show." At the word "auditions" an excited buzz ran throughout the room.

"The first skill we're going to practise is mirroring," he paused, assessing the room. Everybody, it seemed, had brought someone they knew with them and were sat with them for familiarity and comfort. "First, you need to be with someone that you don't know, a complete stranger. I'll give you a few minutes to get into your pairs."

Alfred scanned the room, looking for somebody who looked a little friendly. His blue hues met with warm, hazel eyes and abandoning Ludwig, he happily went across the room to the bubbly-looking brunette. He was abruptly stopped in his tracks when a male with the thickest eyebrows Alfred had ever seen stood directly in front of him.

"I don't think so," he said, his gaze scrutinising the American. "You're being my partner. If not then I'll have to go with your mate over there and somehow, I don't think that we'll get on all that much."

Alfred crossed his arms, feeling defensive. How dare this guy criticise his best friend? "Oh, how do you know that? For looking at him for five minutes?"

The Brit, his accent was thick and distinct, raised an eyebrow. "How could you tell that Feliciano was going to be a nice person?" he asked. "For looking at him for five minutes?" he quipped, imitating Alfred. "Now, are you going to let us get on with this or sulk for the entire evening because I'd actually like to do some acting if you don't mind?" At that, Arthur walked off and found a space, gesturing for Alfred to join him.

Oh great, Alfred thought, I just got partnered with a complete dick.

"He's just so freaking annoying!" moaned Alfred for the fifth time since he and Ludwig had left the Community Hall. "He gave me his number!" the American raged. "In case I need 'drama advice,'" Alfred rolled his eyes. "I don't need drama advice. I know how to be dramatic!"

Ludwig sighed, walking alongside the ranting American. "Trust me, I know that Alfred."

"Anyway," Alfred changed topic, his previous irritation fading slightly. "How was your partner? The friendly-looking one?"

"He was just that," the German replied, smiling slightly. "He was very friendly." In fact, the Italian may have been over-friendly for Ludwig's liking. His bubbly personality was nice to be around but could, much like Alfred's loudness, be irritating at times. However, they had gotten on brilliantly unlike Alfred and Arthur, and Ludwig sincerely hoped that Feliciano would be at Thornley Youth Theatre next week. He was even slightly disappointed that unlike Alfred, he and Feliciano had completely forgotten to exchange numbers (not that he would tell anyone that).

"I wanted to work with him," Alfred grumbled. "Instead I got stuck with moody old Eyebrows." Ludwig rolled his eyes, when Alfred got annoyed by something he would let everybody know about it.

"Don't worry about it Alfred," Ludwig said comfortingly. "It's the football game tomorrow, you'll be able to take all of your anger out on Providence and win us the school championship."

The American grinned. "Yeah, that will be a pretty sweet victory." Note to self, just build up his ego and he gets happy again.

The two friends stopped when they reached the German's house. "Are you sure you'll be alright walking back on your own?"

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Ludwig, it's ten minutes away. I'm sure that I'll be fine. I'll see you later." Alfred waved and, humming to himself, headed towards his house.

Ludwig watched him go, a faint smile playing on his face. He retreated into his house with the feeling that everything was about to change.