"We ran all the way here all because she liked the interior design?"

The two girls jumping on the bed heard someone's voice, and Feliciana looked over toward the doorway. A smile made its way to her face. "Ciao Lovino and company! Look, Lovina, Lovi's brought some friends!" she sang.

"Who're your friends?" was her twin's question as she eyed Matthew and Gilbert suspiciously. Even though she and Feliciana were quite familiar with the Italian brothers, they didn't know their friends all too well; sure they knew Lovino's brother, Feliciano, Antonio, and they knew Ludwig. And that was about it.

Lovina's green eyes narrowed even further. "Who are they?" she repeated and watched Lovino shrug and push his way up to the front. "They're just Matthew and Gilbert." He pointed a thumb at the albino beside him. "You know, Ludwig's older brother?"

Lovina scoffed. "If you're his brother, then why do you two look so different?" the female Italian asked in an accusing manner as if it was Gilbert's fault that he was different from his younger brother.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Gilbert half yelled half asked; he gritted his teeth and narrowed his own eyes at her. In his mind he vowed that he would only address this "Lovina" as "bitchy Italian woman."

"You two look nothing alike."

"So!" Gilbert retorted and took a step forward, then another; he soon figured that since Lovina was still being held by her sister, it was safe to venture ahead. The albino man then began to lumber over toward the bed and behind him, Matthew had a look of worry on his face. He tapped Lovino on the shoulder to get his attention and asked, "Shouldn't we stop him? I mean, he could actually hurt her..."

"She was asking for it," Lovino replied, his tone very nonchalant as he watched as Lovina jerked out of her twin's grasp and she and Gilbert began to exchange very fiery words.

Before the fight could get heated anymore and words of violence were exchanged for physical contact, the sounds of stampeding footsteps came from down the hallway; Matthew and Lovino turned around to see some more of the contestants -if not all of them; about five or six people- lead by Mr. Logan. Everyone either had, confused, shocked or worried expressions on their faces. From what Matthew could see, Alfred was the only one who looked amused.

"I heard screaming. What is going on here?" Mr. Logan asked, his voice louder than Gilbert and Lovina's. The two of them stopped what they were doing and turned to face the crowd. As if on cue, both the albino and the Italian pointed accusing fingers at one another and spoke at the same time.

"He started it!"

"She started it!"

"I don't care who started it," the producer growled, using one hand to point a meaty index finger at Gilbert. "You," he then pointed to Matthew and Lovino, "You, and you shouldn't even be here on the girls' hall."

Across from him Gilbert's eyes narrowed and he mumbled, "I didn't hear you say anything about not going onto the girls' floor-"

"If you had followed me like you were supposed to do," the large man spoke up, "Then you would have known to stay on your own gender's hall." He glared at the three boys standing around and threw his arm back toward the direction of where he and the group had came from. "Get on your own hall. All of you!" The short-tempered producer turned and yelled at the people who were behind him and they all jumped at the sudden outburst and scattered. Alfred's obnoxious laughter could be heard as he made his way back upstairs to the boys' hall.

Feliciana decided that now would be a good time to ask her question. "Mr. Logan, Sir?" The producer gave a rather annoyed sigh and looked at her. "Yes, Feliciana?" he droned out.

"So since this is a television show where the girls and guys trick each other, since me and my sister-"

Lovina mouthed, "Keep me out of this!"

"Fooled those guys into running up here, thinking we were in trouble...does that count?"

"No! No it doesn't! The cameras aren't even set up, you heard me say that!" Mr. Logan stormed out of the room, shaking his head and mumbling something about, "Damn kids," underneath his breath.

Matthew and Lovino exchanged looks and Gilbert only sneered, mimicking the large man's words as he shoved his hands into his pants pockets and walked out of the room.

"Um, Feliciana?" Matthew started. The brunette turned her attention to him, jumped off the bed and walked closer. "Yeees?" she asked, crossing over the invisible "personal space" boundary Matthew had set for himself. He leaned backwards. "C-can you, like...not scream anymore? I mean, unless you have to. I-I mean only when it's needed? Please?" Lovino face-palmed at the blond's stupid requests and Matthew felt like doing the exact same.

"Mmm...Okay!" Feliciana chirped and went back over to her twin. "You wanna finish unpacking and setting up the room, Lovina?"

"Like I really have a choice," was the other girl's answer. She rolled her eyes at her sister's jolliness and they both took one of their bags that hadn't been opened yet and began unloading their things.

By the time he and Lovino had gotten the luggage upstairs, Matthew had found his room, unloaded his things, and was lying on his neatly-made bed, wondering when Mr. Logan was going to give further instructions. As he lay there looking up at the celling, the blond's eyes were slowly attracted to the football his brother was tossing up into the air as he lay on his own bed, headphones over his ears. Loud rock music blasted from the iPod at Alfred's side and the boy was nodding his head to the beat of the music.

Matthew could not see how every single person he and his brother met thought that they were related by blood; they didn't look a thing like each other -save for the blond hair and the same complexion, and the shared birthdays. Oh, and they had to wear their glasses to see an inch in front of them. They were even different in personality. Correction, they had very different personalities; while Matthew was the more calm, cool, and collect type of guy who only really got hyped up at hockey games, Alfred was more outgoing and athletic. He was also the guy who screamed like a little girl at horror movies and cried during the sad parts of romances. What Matthew lacked in the outspoken department, he made up with in being quite friendly and caring. Alfred was not necessarily the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was strong and -in his brother's eyes- a lot more fun to be around. Maybe it was just that he was the life of the party all the time. Matthew shrugged it off and went back to looking at the ceiling. His thoughts drifted back to his early life when he still lived in Montréal, the life he had before he was adopted by the Jones family. Up until he was ten, Matthew lived in an orphanage. A few months after he was adopted, he and his new family moved back down to New York where Matthew was enrolled in the same school Alfred was attending; he stayed following in his brother's footsteps until his freshman year in high school when he got out of his shell and started venturing out on his own a bit more.

A knock at the door drew Matthew's attention to it and he sat up to be greeted with the sight of Lovino standing in the doorway. "Knock, knock," the Italian student said and then pointed his thumb toward the stairs. "Mr. Logan says its time for dinner." He brought up his hand and started counting off on his fingers as he said, "They've got baked potatoes, meatloaf, baked beans, hamburgers-"

Alfred shot up from his bed and threw his headphones off. "Hamburgers?!" he shouted, causing both Lovino and Matthew to cringe at the outburst. Alfred leaped off his bed and flew to the door, grabbing Lovino by the shoulders and eagerly exclaimed, "Dude, I'm starving! Where's the food?"

"Downstairs in the kitchen, idiota! Now get off me!"

Alfred did as he was ordered and quickly walked out the door; he turned to face his brother and Lovino and said, "C'mon, Maxwell, let's go grab something to eat, man!" while jogging backwards. Matthew opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was that slipped out of his mouth turned into a harsh scream of "No-!" His eyes went wide behind his thin-framed glasses and his hand reached out when Alfred let out a startled yelp as his foot slipped off the top step and his body went down the first flight of stairs. While the Italian student was busy laughing his ass off, Matthew was thrown into full-fledged panic mod and he ran over to the stairs, hands grasping the railing and he watched his brother's body flip itself head over hells as he landed on the deck that separated the first flight from the second. "Alfred!"

"I'm fine, bro!" he called back. Alfred sat himself upright and in a laughing voice, he added, "Whoo! What a trip!" and flashed his brother an "I'm OK" smile along with two thumbs up. The purple-eyed teenager let out a long sigh. "I wish you'd be more careful," he muttered before going down to help Alfred to his feet.

At dinner, there were a few more foods offered than what Lovino had stated, but Alfred only at the hamburgers. Matthew was seated at his spot in the immensely long table, his plate of food nearly untouched. He idly rolled the peas around with his fork as he silently watched everyone else talk and eat; Mr. Logan was nowhere to be found and Matthew thought that the produce was doing some producer stuff outside of the Candle House, like talking to the tech crew and making sure the cameras were set up right. He recognized most of the contestants' faces from his high school while others were entirely new to him. There was his brother Alfred, of course, Gilbert Beilschmidt and his brother Ludwig, the Vargas twins Lovino and Feliciano, Antonio Carriedo, Francis Bonnefoy, Elizabeta Héderváry, and Lovina and Feliciana Vargas. Matthew hadn't been introduced to many of the others, but he could match a few of their faces with names: there was Arthur Kirkland, Carlos Machado, Xiao Mei, Erika Zwingil -the youngest of all of the contestants- and a very kind woman named Iryna Chernenko. Taking in a mouthful of peas, Matthew realized that neither Laura, her brother, nor Vladimir were at dinner. This set off a red flag in the Canadian's mind; was...Laura with Vladimir?

'No. No, Matthew, don't go jumping to conclusions. Her brother seems like the kind of guy who'd keep a close eye on her,' he thought, recalling how he had seen Govert react earlier that day. 'I'm sure she's just doing...something.' That was when Matthew noticed someone take a seat a few chairs down from him; he looked up and nearly dropped his jaw when he saw that it was Govert. His mind really started jumping to conclusions then.

A few minutes later, both Laura and Vladimir came walking into the kitchen at the same time and Matthew felt that his worst fears had came true. All eyes were on the duo as the entered; Laura had that same cheery smile on her face as she did when Matthew first met her, and Vladimir had his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. Even though Laura didn't seem bothered by twenty-seven eyes watching her (Alfred was still too busy stuffing his face with burgers to pay them any attention), Vladimir's red eyes looked tired and were full of anxiety. Someone cleared their throat and Matthew groaned, knowing exactly who was about to say something.

"So, uh...what took you guys so long to come down for dinner?" Gilbert asked. He leaned back in his chair to get a better view of the two teens, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Vlad? Laura? C'mon, you guys can tell me."

The Belgian student had stopped on her way to her seat and she made a face at Gilbert. She knew that he would keep pestering her until she either gave an outburst or told him why she showed up late. "Why do you want to know?"

"'Cause I'm curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat."

Gilbert took the time to look himself over then he turned back to Laura and said, "Meh. I'm still here. So tell me. Where were you?"

"Well, if you really are that desperate to get your nose all into someone else's business," she started, rolling her eyes at the albino, who began to smile. "I was still rearranging my room."

Gilbert raised his eyebrows as if to say, "Oh, that's it?" and then turned back to Vladimir. The exchange student had switched out his standing position for one where he was lying against the door frame to the kitchen. "Well what about you, Dracula? Where were you at?" Vladimir narrowed his eyes at Gilbert when he addressed him by that particular name but shrugged Gilbert's question off. "I went outside to take a smoke." And with that he turned back around and started heading toward the stairs but Gilbert stopped him by saying, "Hey, hey. Aren't you going to stay and eat something?"

The exchange student stopped dead in his tracks and hesitantly peeked over his shoulder. He idly scratched his arm. "I-I'm not hungry." His voice was rushed, impatient, and cracked. All Gilbert did was snicker as everyone else turned back to their plates; some of the contestants got up and left the kitchen and Ludwig put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Gilbert, don't," Matthew heard him whisper and he bit his lip when Gilbert brushed him off. The albino sat his chair back into this original position and he braced himself with his right hand flat on the table's surface while he used the left to point an accusing finger at Vladimir's back. "So it is blood you feed on! Ha! I -the awesome Gilbert- knew it!"

"I'm don't drink blood!" Vladimir barked back and he turned to fully face the kitchen. "I don't know why everyone at school's saying that, but I would like all of you to just stop it! It's been eight months since that rumor's been floating around. It's not funny anymore!"

Everyone who stayed at the table began to get anxiety, especially Matthew and Laura. The albino just scoffed. "Whatever you say." He waited until Vladimir's anger had died down a bit before adding, "Count Dracula."

"That's it!" The Romanian ran over to the table, pushed the first four chairs out of the way and practically pounced on Gilbert; his hand fisted itself into white hair and before anyone could protest, Vladimir slammed the other's head down into his plate of food. He pulled Gilbert back up and the other man yelled, "What the fuck was that-"

Then he slammed his head down again.

And again.

And again.

All the while Vladimir was screaming out sentences in both his native tongue and English; "What the fuck was that for? You know damn well what the fuck that was for, you bastard! I'm not a vampire! I don't drink blood! I don't burn in the sunlight! I actually like garlic! I am."

Slam!

"Not."

Slam!

"A vampire!"

He crashed Gilbert's face into the table one last time before keeping his head pressed down. There was an inhuman look of rage on Vladimir's twisted face; his red eyes were wide and wild, his lips were pulled back in a snarl that exposed his abnormally long canine teeth, and his brow was creased with deep furrows. Then the exchange student's facial expression suddenly changed and his mouth dropped open. "O-o-o, doamne. Îmi pare rău. Gilbert! I-" Vladimir abruptly ended his sentence when he realized what he'd done and saw the broken pieces of porcelain and...the...blood. He bought his hands up to his face, not knowing whatever else to do with them, and he looked at the faces of everyone else surrounding him. Feliciano had his mouth open, spaghetti falling out and back onto his plate, Antonio and Lovino were just seeing, not believing; Laura had her hands clasped over her mouth, one of Arthur's hands was covering Erika Zwingil's eyes. She was too young, too innocent, to see something like this. Govert's mouth remind a straight line but his wide eyes showed the shock. Even Alfred was quiet.

Ludwig's eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open, staring at his older brother's figure as the albino lifted his face from the table, blood smeared around his nose, mouth, and cheeks. Ludwig then slammed his mouth close and turned to Vladimir, a murderous look in his blue eyes. He pushed back from the table and got up and that was when Vladimir noticed that the German's hands were clenched into tight fists. "No. Ludwig, no! I-it was an accident!" The other man kept advancing. And Vladimir kept backing up until he hit the wall beside the doorway; he put his palms onto the cold surface of the wall and frantically searched for the opening to the doorway, all the while he kept his crimson eyes locked onto the physical form of death who was now closing the three-foot space between them. He didn't know which one of the blond's fists were going to strike first, so Vladimir said a silent prayer and leaped to his right and hoped to make it through the doorway. "I didn't mean-! I'm sor-"

The exchange student was shut up by by a violent punch right in the mouth. Ludwig said no words but he smashed his left fist into Vladimir's temple and this sent the other flying back over to the right. He hit the corner, but he was still coherent enough to push himself off the wall and slip past Ludwig, and head for the exit. He sharply veered into the opening and he was halfway down the hall, thinking he was home-free until he was suddenly halted by a hand snatching the collar of his T-shirt. Vladimir was pulled back to Ludwig -very hard- and he grasped at his collar as the fabric cut into his throat.

"You slammed my brother's face into a plate. And that's all you can say? That's it? I'm sorry?" Ludwig's voice roared over Vladimir's choking and gasping for air. The other teenager grab at one of Ludwig's arms and sunk his nails into the flesh, but that did nothing to faze the German. All he did was make Ludwig throw him down on the ground and walk back to the kitchen. On the floor, Vladimir felt warm tears stinging his eyes and he sat up, taking in large gasps of air as he did so, and he wiped away the tears with his arm and then cupped his mouth. The skin was just now beginning to get puffy and tender. The Romanian took a few more uneven breaths to try and steady himself before lifting his sore body up from the tiled floor of the hallway and shuffling back to the boys' hall of the Candle House.

Everyone had been called down to have what Mr. Logan called a "very important meeting" two hours after dinner. He said that this was his last night playing Papa Logan to everyone -referencing the chaos he had to straighten out earlier in the day- and that everyone was on their own and the cameras were watching. He told everyone good luck and to play some good tricks, but not before he stated that he had seen the fights go on, since the cameras had been set up and were working perfectly- and the fat man said he was "very disappointed in everyone." Especially Gilbert, Ludwig, and Vladimir. Those three had been called down to have a separate meeting with Mr. Logan while everyone else went back to their rooms.

Amazingly, Alfred had gone to sleep early and this left Matthew on his own. He wished he had at least got Laura's phone number so he could call or text her...so he wouldn't be so lonely. But then he thought that she might not want to talk after what happened at dinner. That had affected everyone.

Matthew turned and looked out of his bedside window. It was pretty large, even for a mansion, and the blinds and curtains were open from earlier in the day. Outside, the moon was in its waxing crescent stage and it was dark enough for Matthew to see the stars and constellations without them being blocked out by the thousands of city lights. Before he fell asleep he had told himself to go ahead and close the blinds, but that didn't happen since the blond had fallen asleep without even realizing it. He woke up a few minutes later and quickly pulled the blinds down and drew the curtains before giving the window an uneasy look. Matthew turned on his side so that he was facing Alfred's bed across the room and closed his eyes. The window, the blinds, and the curtains were closed, but Matthew still couldn't shake the feeling that he was somehow being watched; he later reminded himself that there were three cameras set up in his room -two facing his bed and Alfred's and one by the door- and that those cameras were turned on. However, the uneasiness remained and caused part of Matthew's mind begin to think that there was someone intensely staring at him from behind that window. The teenager curled in on himself more, bringing his knees up to his chest in attempt to make himself as small as possible. 'It is just the cameras, Matthew. You are just worked up because all of the drama today; go to sleep already. It's just the cameras.'

The next morning at breakfast all of the contestants seemed cranky and stressed out. "If I knew this was going to happen," Matthew said after he swallowed some hash browns, "I would have never came here." He grunted when a forceful palm suddenly smacked into his back. He snapped his head up to see that it was no one other then his brother trying to break his shoulder. "Hahaha! What are you talking about, Marius?" The athlete tipped his glass of orange juice to his lips and drank all of it down in one gulp while still patting Matthew's back.

"I hope you have indigestion," Matthew muttered then moved away from Alfred. "What I mean is just look at everybody. They're all so..."

Alfred finished his sentence for him. "Cranky and stressed and a lot of other things."

"Ouais, that. I don't think anyone else got a good sleep last night."

"I did."

All the Canadian did was grunt as a response then he saw Gilbert walk in, a scowl on his face as he shot dangerous glances as Vladimir slowly entered behind him. Ludwig hadn't come down yet and Gilbert took it upon himself to go and sit with Antonio, who was also with his best friend in the whole wide world and his twin brother. Lovino immediately got up from his seat when Gilbert came over and yelled at Feliciano to "get away from the Potato Bastard" before he went to search for another chair to sit in. Soon after that Gilbert and Antonio started up a conversation that had to involve something about last night because the Spaniard pointed to Gilbert's stitches and bandaged nose. Someone else entered the kitchen and both Matthew and Alfred recognized him as Francis Bonnefoy, a college student who had recently began appearing at their school soon after Laura showed up. Obviously, after learning that he and Laura were cousins, Matthew guessed that he was there to pick her and Govert up from school. He never actually talked to Francis, but Alfred had and he reported back to Matthew by saying that Francis was an OK kinda guy, but he flirted with everything that moved, and that he also had a very perverted mind. However the fact that Alfred had said that the Frenchman was "OK" put Matthew's mind at ease; at least he wasn't some sicko stalker kind of guy.

"Hey! Frenchy!" Alfred suddenly called and waved at Francis, who had been making his way over to Gilbert's side of the table. Francis looked up, smiled, and agave an acknowledging wave back just as Gilbert thew Alfred a stoney glare and flipped him off as if to say, "Fuck you. Stop trying to steal my friends."

Alfred didn't notice.

Breakfast was nearly over and the contestants were starting to clean up. It seemed that Gilbert and Antonio had gotten drunken off their asses by the milk they were drinking, but Francis remained "sober". Ludwig came from downstairs with his hair hanging into his eyes, showing everyone that he had just recently gotten up. He didn't bother to say good morning to Gilbert, seeing that he was laughing like a maniac at something only he and Antonio could find funny in their state, and went over to the counter to pick up a glass and pour orange juice into it. When he was over there, Feliciano (despite the mumbles from his brother) went over to say hi and hold a semi-onesided conversation with the German. A few minutes later was when Feliciana showed up; she politely asked the other Italian if she could have a word with Ludwig and Feliciano was happy to oblige. Feliciana had a plate of quiche in one of her hands and she seemed very serious about it. She asked if it "looked right" to Ludwig and he shrugged and nodded. "Yes, I guess it looks alright," he said.

"Okay, but does it smell right?"

"...does it smell right?"

"Si! I just wanted to know because, well, I know you absolutely love to cook-"

Ludwig froze. She had said that out loud. Dammit...

"And you cook a lot of different things, and I wanted to know if this quiche smells like its thoroughly cooked."

He hesitated a bit but the blond leaned over to take a whiff of the baked dish. It..actually did smell right. "Feliciana, I do believe this has been thoroughly cooked-"

The Italian girl's hand became nothing but a blur as she bought the quiche up to meat the German student's face.

Feliciana uttered her mad man giggle as Ludwig sputtered and stumbled back before putting her balled fists up to her mouth to try and stifle the noise. "I-I'm so s-sorry -hehe!- Ludwig! Wait y-you -hehe!- you know what? No, I'm not sorry! This was actually funny! Hehehehe!"

She backed up a few steps as everyone else roared with laughter and Gilbert sneered with, "I can't believe she got you, Lutz!" and went back to laughing and a stream of milk shot out his nose. Embarrassed, the albino quickly bought his hands up to cover his broken nose a little too hard and grunted at the impact.

Even Lovina was so proud of her sister for doing something right and they both high-fived each other. "Girls one, Boys none," she sang but uttered a gasp when she was doused with a cupful of milk.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mademoiselle. Did I get your dress all wet?" Francis had stood from his chair and his arm was stretched out. In his hand was an empty glass of milk. He smirked at the now fuming Italian girl.

"Do you know how much this costed? Do you have any idea -any idea at all- what kind of fabric this is? This was hand-tailored in-!" She cut herself off with a girlish scream as more milk was tossed onto the already stained portion of her blue dress. "Ugh! You. French. Pig!" she yelled at Francis, seeing that he had picked up a neighboring glass of milk and was the one who threw it onto her. "You will pay for that and you will pay for this dress! Do you hear me?!"

"I do believe I hear you saying, Girls one and Boys two," Francis said in a mocking tone as he put his hand up to his ear. "I am hearing correctly?"

Lovina didn't say another word. Instead she barreled past her sister and a still stunned Ludwig toward Francis. Only when she was a few feet from him did the Frenchman turn and run; he pushed an unsuspecting Arthur Kirkland back up to the table when the man with the thick eyebrows was scooting his chair back. Arthur uttered an out of breath gasp when his stomach collided with the edge of the table and he turned to see Francis disappearing around the corner. "You frog!" Again, Arthur tried to get up, but he was pushed back into the table, this time by Lovina as she pursued the Frenchman and picked up the plate of hash browns as she passed by.

Alfred looked around at everyone then picked up his own plate filled with some food -mostly half eaten omelet slices (he took samples of all five kinds of omelets they were offered) and yelled, "Food fight!" before he dumping his plate right onto Matthew's head.

"Alfred! You're supposed to get the other team! The girls! Get the girls!"

"Oops. Sorry Morgan," was the other's sheepish reply and he quickly dropped his plate to dust the egg dish out of his brother's hair, but he only smeared it in more. Matthew slapped his hand away. "C'est Matthieu!"

"It is on now!" Gilbert cheered and jumped onto the table. "Let the Battle of the Sexes begin!"

A/N: And here comes the drama train! All aboard! Woo woo!

I kinda just winged this chapter; I didn't really think out how every event was going to fall into place...but, hey, it was still pretty good? Right? (I hope so -_-") This was actually pretty fun to write :3

I know I have Feliciana OOC, but I have always seen her as a hyperactive and kind of scatterbrained character who is always happy-go-lucky...I think I really like her that way.

OK! So in the next chapter expect to see some more of Prussia's broken nose and the whole BBT will be taking the spotlight along with some of the Nyo!talia characters!