Wazzup? Sorry I haven't updated for a while, but I shall try from now on. Yell at me if I don't.
I'm sorry I'm such a fail, but here goes nothing! Oh and if you feel like yelling call me Kdawg k? Allright! Enjoy! Oh and one last thing... beta anyone? first one to send me their e-mail gets it! Hahaha I'm such a kid!
The meeting room ,this time, was buzzing. Everyone was talking about one person, Mathew Williams. They all couldn't believe the shy, invisible man could change so quickly. As the saying goes : "Speak of the devil and he shall appear" by whoever said that(the author is too lazy to look it up), the doors opened and Mathew entered the quieting room. His hair is now red and black and the tips, his glasses gone once again. He wore a black leather jacket, an Escape the Fate concert tee, tight blood red jeans with all kinds off chains rattling around him, and black biker boots. He held his guitar case in his left hand, all his nails painted black. He didn't have make-up on,but he still looked bad ass. He jerks his chin up in a sign of greeting before heading over to where Cuba sat. Mathew put his guitar down and kissed Cuba on the lips. "Get away from the communist Mattie!" Alfred had screamed, but was promptly ignored. Mathew whispered something in Cuba's ear before picking up his guitar case and walking over to his seat. "I'm a big boy Alfred, you don't have to worry about me." Mathew replies, his voice echoing in the silent hall. "He's just looking out for you, lad" England replies for the (this'll probably never happen again) speechless America. "I can date who I want," He says angrily, "it's better than the last person I dated." Mathew plops down in his chair and crosses his arms. He props his feet on the table as a sign of defiance. At last last statement everyone bursts out talking at once, and Germany just sighs and tries to alleviate the incoming headache. Mathew rolls his eyes and stands, snatching his guitar case off the ground before walking out.
The music was loud, filling every inch of the stadium as the band played their new song. The guitarist sang the chorus, the others had insisted seeing as he wrote the song. It was loud, the lyrics were seething, the band played it like there was no tomorrow, and they played it well. 'Back off American'
