A/N: I never will own Hetalia…only in my dreams. The OC is mine, however.

Thoughts/flashback in italics.

Summary: We all have our faults, right? Sometimes that's when we can't stop loving the people who hurt us.

Warnings for this chapter: Slight language, drug and alcoholic references, and incest.

I am against drugs, alcohol, and incest in real life, take note of that.

Shipping(s) for the chapter: One-sided (or not, depending on how you interpret it) Netherlands x OC, Netherlands x Belgium.

Chapter One

The Way You Lie

Drugs

Part One

In the modern day and age:

Amsterdam, Netherlands

They say curiosity killed the cat. But this time, curiosity can kill one's relationship.

It all started in the kitchen. A brunette woman, who appeared to be around nineteen, was attempting to cook for her lover. She had donned the familiar apron and oven mitts, tying her hair in a bun to look as if she actually knew what she was doing. From the burned brownies that she took out of the oven moments, she clearly didn't.

"Damn!" She swore, grabbing the cookbook that she had used off the counter and throwing it into the trash. The lady had redone this recipe and others for quite some time, but hadn't thought about the fact that she might be wrong and not the cookbook.

"He's coming home soon… What should I cook? Nothing, nothing works!" She eyed the open refrigerator. There were some easy-bake boxes, milk, wine, and beer when her boyfriend's 'friend' Denmark, showed up unexpectedly. That was about it. Everything else had been extinguished through her attempts to make the 'perfect meal' for the guy she really cared for on his birthday. And that was Netherlands.

Where's the New York common sense that you've gotten over all these years? Her conscience tugged at her. Yes, this was New York, one of the former colonies of Netherlands himself. A sharp and jaded woman she usually was, she turned soft and sweet when it came to him.

But back to the problem at hand. "When in doubt…go to the nearest restaurant." She had no other options, really. Her funds had run rather dry, thanks to the recent recession and her deficit back home. And because of that shortage, she didn't have as much energy as hoped to try to cook for hours on.

Snatching her small purse and a hoodie, she made her way out the door. Droplets of rain greeted her head, but she ignored them, making her way down the road.

Outside the nearest chain restaurant

"Thank God for chains!" New York whooped and made a fist pump towards the air. Applebee's', Friendly's, whatever the name of the restaurant was, there was plenty a supply back home, always offering her food late at night, when she was exhausted from the overtime. They haven't failed her yet.

"Darn… Still raining? I'll have to keep this nice and dry, then." She tucked the heavy plastic bag under her arm and began to walk home. Passing a deli, a light bulb went off in her head. "I know he'll love some wine, too."

The mini-mart was unusually quiet, hinted by the empty cashier stand. "Why they aren't so protective of their money here, I'll never know." Finding her way towards the back, she took the least expensive bottle of wine off the top shelf. Luckily, it was ice-cold.

But on the way to pay for the luxury, voices were finally heard at the cashier. Familiar voices of an optimistic Spaniard and a cheerful Belgian. Spain and Belgium… What are they doing here? These countries think they can frolic wherever they want to, the New Yorker grumbled, but she conveniently overlooked the fact that she was visiting from elsewhere, too. Eavesdropping was common where she was from, so she hid behind one of the stacks of canned fruit.

"Belgium, mija [1]. Is he really coming to see you here, of all places? Why not somewhere more romantic?" Spain had a smile on his face, but it couldn't hide his growing discomfort.

"I don't know. He should be here soon, though, so you should leave, Antonio," Belgium herself looked apprehensive. "You know how he still has a grudge over you ruling him."

Netherlands! It was apparent now that her boyfriend was going to be given a surprise by his younger sister. I should really get going before I'm discovered…

But before New York could make a quick escape, another male voice, one she had heard countless of time before, reached her ears. It sounded tough and domineering, though this wasn't the case for his girlfriend. To her, it was the most passionate and loving voice she had ever heard, keeping her in place just for a little longer.

"I'm here, Belgium," The Dutch spoke roughly, "I heard a Spaniard speaking… He didn't happen to pass by, did he?" By now, Spain had disappeared behind the counter and was currently safe from being punched in the face.

"Oh, no. It was only a customer."

"More foreigners in my land, huh? How intrusive."

Disregarding that statement, the blonde female instead asked, in hushed tones, "Holland…why here of all places to meet?"

Even though they were related, New York couldn't help but feel jealous at the more intimate name Belgium called her brother.

"You should know why, Belgium." Inhaling of air was heard. Netherlands was smoking, again.

What the hell? I told him to lessen his intake! I'll have to confront him about this later-

She stopped her train of thought when more shocking words were spoken from the conversation.

"Our secret relationship? Seriously, brother, I don't even think we can call it secret anymore. Lovino, Feliks, Antonio…" [2]

"You told Spain? I'll have to kill him, then."

"No, Holland. Could we just celebrate your birthday? For once, without anyone getting hurt?" Footsteps and the opening of the door were heard. They had went outside.

New York had been holding her breath the entire time, since the words 'secret relationship'. This had been unbearable. The air would have been taken out of her anyways, without her holding it in. She couldn't speak, let alone think, clearly. All she knew was, she had to see what happened next. The wine, the take-out, it didn't matter anymore. She dropped off both at the cashier, finding Spain tucked snuggly in the corner behind it. "Hey…give this to some lonely lady, okay?" And she left without his response.

It didn't take that long to find them. Situated between the deli and another building was an unpleasant smelling alley. Towards the end was the newly revealed couple, so the brunette hid behind the closest possible obstruction: a trash dump.

It had stopped raining, so now she had time to examine her thoughts. Her mind, her heart was racing. She didn't want to be cliché, but she couldn't yell out and ask a simple, "Why?" The word was stuck in her throat. She couldn't cry, either. Almost as if the rain took my tears away. New York knew she was overreacting. But she just needed the truth.

And it came, soon enough. "Happy birthday, Holland!" Belgium threw her hands her brother's neck. Netherlands took this opportunity and kissed her neck. New York heard this and gasped.

After a few minutes of the endless fluff, in the brunette's opinion, actual speech was heard. "So, Holland, how's it going with New York?"

"Heh… I could say good for her, I guess. But for me, I have to take hallucinogens just to look like I really love her in that way."

This was the final straw. I'm going to be sick… And with that, New York sneakily crawled her way out of the alley, holding her mouth, and more importantly, her heart.

Back at Netherlands's House

The brunette foreigner burst into the hallway, tossing her sweater aside and running into the kitchen. The not-so-perfect homemade dinner she made was on the counter, untouched. For a few seconds, she contemplated throwing it all away, because just the sight of it fueled her disgust. But she remembered that her supposed 'love' was arriving in a matter of minutes and he couldn't see her in this state.

She began to arrange the table for two, adding dinning utensils here and there, placing water in two random glasses, and setting the food nearby, trying to ease her mind of what had happened. It couldn't have been a dream, could it? No matter how hard she tried to make herself forget so that when he came home, she looked absolutely fine, the memory kept on replaying in her head. "I have to take hallucinogens just to look like I really love her in that way."

The more she thought about it, the more sadness was replaced by anger. So, you never loved me at all? I was just a decoy for you and Belgium? What the hell? I loved you so much… You said that sentence in one breath without rethinking whom I was to you! How…could…you? New York realized her eyes were shut tight, her fists clenched as well. It felt good to release all that pent-up emotion she had, because she couldn't cry later, much less yell when she saw him face-to-face.

How long was this shit going on behind my back? Decades? Centuries? Or forever? You said when I was simply a colony that I meant the world to you! You lied! You never cared for me! If you loved me…wait, you never did. You don't deserve me…and you never will! She let out a blood curling scream, hatred flowing from her shriek.

So…I guess this is what you call 'emo' now, huh? I loved and I lost. No one around to comfort me, except myself. All alone, in a foreign land… Her thoughts slowly began to sound like a Lifetime movie, the type she watched with California. Cliché, she thought they were. Now she was sounding like all those women, too. But…I don't want to be desperate. I…don't think I need to cling onto him. I loved him, but now he's a lost cause to me. I just need to get away… Alfred! Her blond, heroic employer was probably watching scary movies back home with Japan. Despite his boss being unfair to her, Alfred was a nice guy. Someone she could talk to. Maybe too naïve for her liking, but she knew that he would listen to her.

Her cell phone was in her sweater, which she quickly found thrown to the floor. She then texted: Pls. pick me up at the nearest airport in D.C tomorrow. I have to talk to you. -New York

A minute later was the response: Huh? Whyyyyyy? What happened with your boyfriend?

She answered: Long, long story. Just pick me up and I'll tell you on the way to your house. The internal clock on her phone read 8:00. Where was Netherlands?

Ok! If he did anything to hurt you… America couldn't have any idea of what was truly going on, if he did, he might have declared war on him then and there. Luckily, the democratic government of the USA prevented such.

He didn't. I'll see you then. Later. Reading that, she felt tears well up in her eyes. That was a lie…why was she still protecting him? She wiped the forming liquid away, erasing any evidence of her sadness. He's late…he doesn't care that I made him dinner. Well, I don't mind…anymore.

The New Yorker sat down on the nearest chair, a medium-sized recliner. She could wait, for as long as it took, until he arrived. I was always in love with 'ya, you know? It was a hopeless, painful desire, a wish that Netherlands hadn't said those things. She still remembered when those days when they did nothing but what those madly in love couples did, spend hours in bed, make out, and whatnot. He would tell her that she was still New Netherland to him, always his. And she couldn't disagree, even though it hadn't been true for eons. Were those really sweet nothings that were whispered in her ear every night?

Her first kiss was with him; did it mean nothing, too? 1975. The year that Manhattan declared that the city's true founder lay not within England in 1664, but Netherlands in 1625. Almost the entire city was joyous, excluding some doubtful historians. That year, underneath the July 4th fireworks, the two finally kissed.

"Netherlands! W-what are you doing here?" New York asked, blushing a deep red. Given an early leave by her boss, she had decided to spend her night not alone, but watching the Macy's fireworks amongst thousands of humans. She expected a regular display like every other year, but she hadn't counted on seeing her former master in the big city.

"Hmph. If this place suddenly wants to change their founder from England to me, what makes you think I don't have a right to come over and ask why?" He was smoking, but his attention was completely focused on the girl in front of him.

"It's just that…I haven't seen you since I was your colony," The young woman couldn't keep up her charade for much longer, that she wasn't bothered by this. She had wanted to see him again so badly, it made her heart hurt being in front of him. New York had had a huge crush on him when she was little, so the possibilities of those feelings resurfacing were imminent if they ever met again.

"Yeah, well, I haven't seen you either. And I'm not freaking out about it like you are." His smirk, accompanied by his know-it-all attitude, made the situation even worse. She felt all her blood rush to her cheeks. "I know you better than all these…strangers, and especially England and America. But, it is nice to see you again."

It looked as if New York was faint from that statement. "S-same here," was all she could force out.

"What? No handshake? Or even better, a hug?"

"Y-you didn't ask," was her soft reply.

"Well, I'm a special case. I don't have to, because I was your first."

"First what?" Now his personality was grinding on the blunt, direct girl.

He quickly closed the gap between them, and tilted her chin upwards, making their lips connect. It was only for a few seconds until he pulled apart from his shocked former charge and responded, "First kiss, Nieuw-Nederland." [3]

That had to be her best memory of him. The best memory that began a lie that lasted years. New York sighed. It was the only thing that was holding her back from snapping. She wasn't a predictable, stereotypical girlfriend, and that was tearing her apart on the inside.

The sound of a door opening was heard. "Showtime," New York murmured as she got up to open the door to her faith.

A/N: This made me cry! ;_;

Since I usually write sappy romance stories, I was looking for a change. And here it is. I hope you guys liked it. Read and review, please!

I edited this chapter, so now there are two parts.

For some reason, New York and Netherlands seem like an angsty couple, from my point. They're is fun to experiment with, hehe… And I placed New York around 19, Netherlands around 25, in human age.

Notes:

1) Mija means 'my daughter' in Spanish.

2) South Italy, Poland, and Spain, respectively.

3) Nieuw Nederland is Dutch for New Netherland.

Con-crits are acceptable. Flames are not.

Words: 2906

~Unknown Souldreamer