Antonio sat alone in a corner, tapping his foot to some popular rock song blaring obnoxiously loudly from the speakers above. He should've been looking for a job now, but somehow Francis had persuaded to come to this party.

All of a sudden, his cell phone buzzed. He took it out of his pocket, to see he had a new email from a company he had interviewed for. His breath hitched in his throat, hoping for the best.

But when he opened it, the email stated in ugly, bold text he had been denied. He was still unemployed, living off a small savings account he had put aside for emergencies. He put his phone away, sighing, and trying to resist the urge to punch a hole in the wall next to him.

Antonio looked up to see Francis walking towards him, swaying his hips to impress the ladies at the table next to him. Walking behind Francis was a brunette man Antonio had never seen before. Probably another slut that the Frenchman had picked up.

Francis sat next to Antonio, slinging an arm casually over his shoulder. Antonio shrugged his arm off, not really in the mood to be cheerful; most likely to the most recent let-down. "Who's this?" he asked Francis, tilting his head to the stranger. For some reason, the newcomer had a weird curl sticking right out of his head. It bobbed up and down as the man bounced in his seat.

"I'm Feliciano!" the man introduced himself. "I'm Francis's cousin!"

"You never told me about him," Antonio said to Francis, raising an eyebrow.

Francis shrugged. "He's Italian, and owns an art company."

"Ve! It's really fun!" Feliciano commented. "It's called 'Vargas.' Because that's my last name!"

Antonio gaped. "You work for Vargas? The famous graphic design producer?"

"Uh-huh. I own it! What do you do, Antonio?" Feliciano questioned.

Antonio cringed. Whenever someone asked what his career was, it was humiliating to tell them he was unemployed.

"I don't have a job right now, but I used to work as a waiter. I paint in my free time," he told Feliciano gruffly.

Feliciano's eyes went as wide as saucers. "Ooooh. Sorry."

Antonio waved it away. "It's okay."

At that moment, a blonde woman, with about five pounds of makeup plastered on her face, approached them from the next table over. "Hi, big boy," she said seductively at Francis, winking. "Wanna have some fun?"

Francis was up and upstairs with the girl in a heartbeat.

Feliciano watched him go, then turned back to Antonio. "Guess it's just you and me," he said.

Antonio chuckled. "Yeah. This happens every time I go to a party with your cousin. He's quite the lady-charmer."

"Do you think he's ever truly been in love?" Feli asked Antonio.

Antonio smirked. "I personally think Francis is completely in love with his English coworker, Arthur, but is too prideful to admit it."

The Italian nodded enthusiastically. "Si! Are you in love, Antonio?"

"Nope. I'm still waiting for the right person," Antonio told him.

"Oh. I'm in love! I have a really great, strong, scary German boyfriend! Named Ludwig!"

Antonio smiled. "That's nice."

"Yep!"

And so, the rest of the night went like that. Feliciano and Antonio chatted about love, Feli's art agency, Ludwig, and other random subjects. At Feliciano's request, Antonio showed him pictures of his artwork. At the end of the night, Feliciano took a long look at Antonio.

"You know, we're looking for artists to work for us," he said.

"Well, I wish you luck in finding them."

"I think I just have!"

"...What do you mean?" Antonio asked.

"Antonio, will you work for us?"

Antonio's jaw dropped. He couldn't believe his luck. "You want me...to work for you."

"Of course! You're very nice, you know."

"I'd be glad to! But, just to warn you, I've never done graphic art before."

Feliciano grinned. "I understand! We'll have someone teach you the ways of the trade. It shouldn't be hard. Really, graphic art isn't much different than traditional! You just use your mouse to paint!

After that, Feliciano gave Antonio his business card, with the phone number and the address to the main office of the agency. Antonio put it away safely in his pocket, ordered a drink for him and Feliciano, and the two new buddies drank the night away, celebrating Antonio's new success.

Francis came down a couple hours later, the nameless girl trailing after him. She went back over to her friends, and Francis joined Feliciano and Antonio at their table. "Bonjour."

"Hey, Francis!" Feliciano chirped. He seemed even more excitable when he was slightly drunk, if that was possible. Antonio vaguely wondered how his boyfriend could put up with him. Maybe he was just as cheerful. "Antonio is going to work for 'Vargas!'"

Francis glanced at the Spaniard. "Good for him."

Antonio smiled at him. "It's really a lucky break."

France yawned. "I'm happy for you, being employed and all, but I'm tired and need to go home. See you later, Antonio, Feliciano." He exited the party.

Antonio turned to Feliciano. "I'm going home, too. Need my rest for tomorrow!"

Feliciano walked with him to the door. "Bye, Antonio! See you soon!"

Antonio walked to his car, and drove home, glad he wasn't very drunk. He unlocked the door to his apartment, throwing his jacket onto the couch. He looked around. His apartment wasn't a very nice place to live. It was incredibly cramped, and his neighbors were either drug addicts or assholes. He wasn't allowed to paint the bright pink walls, and the landlord always complained about something or other. He hoped his new job payed well, so he could move out of this grungy hole. He could imagine about his new life, perfect and pristine.

He walked into his bedroom, and got ready for bed. He took the precious business card and put it on his nightstand, next to his old alarm clock, his reading lamp, and his book. Antonio fell asleep dreaming about the life he was about to have.

A/N: This is my fist true yaoi fic! Yay! It's going to be Spamano. If you will review, I will give you a tomato!