Hey, I know you just clicked this, and this is crazy, but heres my story, so review it maybe?

Oh and it gets better in chapter two, trust me! :)

P.s. Soo what characters would you like to see? Pairings? I LOVE crack pairings... It's what keeps me going... SOOO leave some suggestions! :)

-Contrast-

Chapter One; Bad Service

I kept my face buried in the menu, not daring to look up. This situation had begun as soon as I had walked in, I don't know why I hadn't just turned around and left while I still had the chance. The hostess was in my direct line of view. And glaring at me. If I looked up one more time, the awkward level would increase ten fold.

If I could have waited to eat for at least ten more minutes, I'd be well on my way to a nice McDonalds by now. But no, "Try something new!" I had convinced myself, "You didn't fly thirteen hours just to attend some lame business meeting, did you? Live a little, dude!" I had learned my lesson though:

Never try anything new.

Ever.

I sat in silence for what seemed forever. If I just got up and left, it would be rude, wouldn't it? I couldn't be rude, it's not right.

Nah-who am I kidding? Since when have I actually cared about other people's feelings? I set the menu down on the table, careful not to look up. I slowly scooted my chair back, and began to stand-

"Where are you going?" The hostess snapped at me in Russian. My gaze drifted up. She was in front of the counter now... which meant closer to me; I shuddered.

"Uh, nowhere, dude. Just-" I stammered.

"You were getting up, which meant you were going somewhere. Sit down. Your food is already being prepared." She pointed towards my seat, her icy expression staying the same.

"What? I didn-" I managed before she cut me off.

"Yeah, I got tired of waiting, so I ordered for you." She ordered my food for me? This chick was giving me the creeps.

She had long, pin straight, white hair that cut off right above her waist. Her dark blue eyes seemed to be watching my every movement, questioning my existence. The large bow on her head made her look very innocent at first glance. A very deceiving vibe.

She started walking closer then, her hand outstretched. ...What if she actually touched me? The thought was unbearable. "Give me your menu." She nearly growled.

No wonder business was bad here.

She pulled the worn menu from my hands and stomped back behind the counter, slapping it down in a stack with the other menus. I sat there in silence, the awkwardness only growing. I couldn't handle it, why did I listen to her, why didn't I just run out? Maybe I could start a conversation? It couldn't be that hard.

I looked up, locking eyes with her, "So, um, how long have you been working here?"

"Learn to speak better Russian before talking to me."

Harsh. Good thing another woman came out from the kitchen from behind the counter, relieving the awkwardness. She seemed much cheerier than the other one... which made me think- why wasn't she the hostess?

"Thank you for coming!" She said in a very smooth, soft voice. "We all really appreciate it. As you can see, business isn't so great at the moment." She chuckled, "Right Natalia?" She said, glancing behind her.

"I suppose so... Katyusha..." Natalia said, dragging the sentence out much longer than it should of been. Her language was much more garbled than Katyusha's, and her accent very thick.

Her eyes narrowed, as if inspecting her prey.

Katyusha set the plates down on the table, sitting in the empty chair across from me. "Go ahead, eat! Eat!" she said pushing the plates towards me. One of them seemed to some sort of... Meat cutlet... And on the other plate was fried potatoes. I picked up my fork, cutting a small piece of the cutlet. I looked up, Katyusha's eyes trained on my face. I glanced to the side, Natalia acting the same, leaning over the counter. These people were really set on this.

I sighed, finally placing it in my mouth. My first thought was,

"DUDE. NASTY. SPIT IT OUT, SPIT IT OUT, SPIT. IT. OUT. THIS IS WHY WE ONLY EAT FRANKENMEAT FROM MCDONALDS." But I kept a straight face, even swallowing it.

"W-Well?" Katyusha almost squeeled. I looked up, her short platinum hair curled around her cheeks, the rest sticking up around her face. I forced a smile.

"Awesome! Dude!" I gave a thumbs up.

"Awesome?... Dude?..." her face went blank.

"It means really good..." Whoops. I forgot that they lack the originality of the American language. Poor Slavs.

Her face lightened, and she pushed the plate even closer to me. "Eat! Eat!" Her persistence was beginning to scare me, but better her than the other girl. At this point Natalia would probably be shoving it down my throat.

"Nata! Katya!" a cheerful voice called. My saving grace. A head poked around the corner of the kitchen doorway.

It was very tall man, with a hair color somewhere inbetween Natalia's white and Katyusha's platinum. He had a very prominent nose and round face which was cradled by a scarf. Wouldn't it be kind of really hot working with a scarf? Sometimes these foreigners could be confusing.

He glanced my way, a small open mouth smile plastered on his face, "Do you like it?" he asked, his voice was even softer than Katyusha's.

I nodded, "Yeah, it's..." I couldn't think of what to say. "Good!" The man walked out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. He was very heavy set. Not fat, but thick, or big boned.

"Ah, I see you're from America. How do you like Russia so far?" he set the towel down on the counter. Natalia then seemed to gravitate towards him, her hand outstretched, and latched onto his sleeve. He frowned. "Nata, would you min-" he started then stopped when she shot him an angry look.

"Well, I mean, it's alright but nothing like, America, ya' know?"

The chef just stood there for a moment, the smile still on his face. But I could sense anger radiating from him. Geeze, these people just didn't know how to handle the truth very well.

He turned around and slowly walked back into the kitchen without saying a word.

Katyusha leaned over the table, "It would be wise to not insult Russia around Mr. Braginsky," she whispered, "He has an odd case of nationalism. I mean we all love our country, but him..." She shook her head.

I nodded, then looked down to check my watch. I was due back at the office in ten minutes. I was still hungry, and no way would I make it to McDonalds and back to the office in time. I would just have to tough this meal out. I quickly shoveled down the cutlet and some of the potatoes, ignoring the horrible flavor. I really didn't know why these people couldn't open up a McDonalds franchise or something. There can never be too many of those. When I was done I dropped my fork on my plate and shoved the plates aside.

"Thanks, it was great but I have to go!" I quickly stood, pulling my coat on.

Katyusha's face fell, "You'll come back though, right?" I wanted to say no, make up some excuse about how I didn't have enough time or something. But... I couldn't. I don't why but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Of course I wouldn't come back, but a little white lie couldn't hurt. They surely have more customers, and I probably just came in at a bad time. They were probably playing the pity card or something to get more money.

"Of course, dude!" I grinned. Her face lit up again, and she carried the plates back into the kitchen. I turned to leave, my hand locking around the doorknob, when I felt someone touching my shoulder. I turned; it was Natalia. How did she sneak up so fast?

Just another reason not to come back.

"Thank you," She spoke slowly, as if the words were painful for her. "It means a lot to my brother." I nodded, not knowing what to say. I shrugged her hand off as I headed out the door.

I walked in silence, the cold air stinging my face. What a strange family.

This is the first time I've written something in a while... Hope you enjoy it! If you will review may the blessings of AmeBel ever be upon yoouuuu!