The whole cast of Romeo and Juliet stood in one grand stage of some random theater in London. America and England stood far away (as the stage would allow) from their counterparts; neither wanting to acknowledge their Romeo or Capulet, but at least England didn't have to worry about sharing a kiss. Italy, on the other hand, came dressed in a renaissance gown of beautiful baby blue and gold colors. It suited him well. The only thing missing was the wig. Germany wore a casual outfit which didn't match his 'wife's' attire. Italy was somewhat upset, but he could live with it.

"Hello, everyone," Hungary greeted the cast as she stood at the center of the stage with a script in her hand. She was cast as the director of this whole play and she was going to enjoy every moment of it. Next to her was Lichtenstein, she held a stack of scripts. Lichtenstein was cast as the stage manager. She would do her best to manage this play. She was even excited.

"Here are the scripts," Lichtenstein waved the pile of scripts before handing them out by the name written on top of the script of the Nation's given character.

"Please look through the script once its given to you." Hungary began. "I was kind enough to highlight each one of your parts by your individual script.

Once nations were handed their script they skimmed through it. England, though had the script memorize from line to line and scene.

"I also made some alterations to the script." Hungary continued.

Oh. Alterations? England flipped through the script to check the alterations. And just to be sure the alteration didn't damage the play.

"No. No. No," Next to England, America was crying dramatic tears as he skimmed through the script. "WHY ARE THERE OVER FOUR KISS SCENES?!" He demanded throwing the script as if it were poison. "THERE SHOULD ONLY BE ONE!"

Hungary smiled, evilly. "Please. This is the modern age. People don't want just one kiss they want multiple. Fu. Fu."

America grabbed at the collar of his own shirt and bit it hard in hopes to tear the dam shirt, because something had to take the frustration of his anger.

Hungary cleared her throat (mirth still written on her face) to get the whole cast attention. "Before we begin the bosses sent me a message saying we have two months to prepare for the play. That gives us two months to have stage props and costumes set up. I like-" Hungary pointed to Italy with a huge smile. "That one of us has gotten into the spirit of the play. In fact Italy, do you have any similar outfits in different sizes?"

"Of course, I thought of everyone. " Italy answered happily. "I brought them too."

"Oh. Good," Hungary squealed. "Then we will use them as temporary costumes. Everyone, go find your size and put them on. And America, you must were a dress."

More dramatic tears fell from America's eyes. He's never worn a dress in his life. "My reputation is ruined."

"Your reputation has already been ruined, " England patted America's shoulder. "Lets go get dressed."

~:::::~

It was as if medieval times took over the stage once everyone returned dressed in their attire. America was wearing a light pink and yellow renaissance gown (that surprisingly looked good on him). Both on the breast of the gown and skirt were leaves (blended with the pink and yellow) falling like patterns onto the ground. The sleeves were beige that were fitted on the arms, but once reached the elbows fell like ruffles to the wrist. Shamed of what he had to wear America huddled up in the darkest area of the stage, where no one could see his shame. England was wearing a red and brown renaissance gown similar to Americas, but instead of leaves there were diamond shapes falling in vertical patterns to the hem of the skirt. He wasn't as bothered about wearing the dress as America, just that he found the outfit uncomfortable. How did women breath in these gowns? Good thing he didn't have boobs to suffer the fate of the corset underneath, but it was doing a good job of squishing his chest.

On the opposite side of the stage Russia was wearing the male version of the renaissance attire, except he refuse to wear those puffy whatever-you-call-them bottoms and the codpiece. Everyone who were playing the male characters -besides France- refused to wear the puffy bottoms. His attire sleeves were a light blue that had Embryophytes beige leaves wrapped around. The jerkin and breeches were a dark-purplish grey color. To everyone's horror he looked surprisingly good. They were jealous, but just a little. France's attire was complementary to England's gown, he wanted people to know they were married. The sleeves of his attire were red and had a light beige design falling in square shape pattern. His jerkin and breeches were a dark brown and his puffy shorts were red. He did manage to pull off those puffy pants, and to complete his attire he had a vest like coat. Germany was planning to wearing a loose renaissance tunic, but Italy got after him, nearly cried too, until Germany gave into the light blue jerkin with a golden design blended in the mix. His breeches were a light yellow that complimented the jerkin. It was the most he was planning to wear, besides it was only the first day of practice.

Those who played the characters of the Capulet family wore similar colors of England and France. There was barely enough red and brown colors in the clothes Italy brought, but it some what worked. For the ones playing the characters for the Montagues wore a similar light blue or dark blue attire.

"I knew I could trust Italy," Hungary smiled widely. "I might just borrow these clothes, but of course we still need one more dress for Juliet!"

"NO!" America cried.

"Lichtenstein please take pictures of everyone."

"Okay," Lichtenstein took out her camera and snapped as many pictures of the cast.

"Now that is all settled I think we should begin our practice with Act 1, scene 5." Hungary began.

"Why scene five," A few mutter curiously as they flipped through the script then...

then...

America fainted.

"And that is why we must start with Act 1 Scene Five," Hungary pointed to the fainted American.

A few snickered.

Hungary jumped off the stage and landed with style on the ground. She sat on one of the comfortable seats facing the very front of the stage. Lichtenstein sat right next to Hungary.

"AND ACTION!"

~:::::~

'"Well said, my hearts! You are a princox; go:'" France (Capulet) waved Romano (Tybalt) off. '"Be quiet, or-More light, more light! For shame! I'll make you quiet.'" France lifted his fist as if to punch Romano. Romano took a step away from the fist. '"What, cheerly, my hearts!.'"

Romano sighed angrily and moved to-what Hungary called an exit (There was no exit) and glared at Russia (Romeo) who was just tugging at the sleeve of his outfit (not in Romeo-character when he should be) and said the next lines of Tybalt by reading the script. Romano then jumped off the stage.

Hungary let the-jumping off the stage- slide for the moment, because she was testing the actual main leads, not the others...yet.

There was a long silence after Romano exited the stage, a very long silence.

"Russia, you're next," Spain poked Russia on the side.

"Oh. Oh." Russia scrambled with his script and skimmed through scene five, because he had no clue as to what part they were in.

"Russia-Romeo," Hungary called. She stood up from her spot. "Why aren't you trying to get Juliet's attention?"

"She is hiding," Russia answered, because really where was America?

Now that Hungary looked at the stage where the cast of the Capulets should be dancing (there was no dance for the time being) America was no where to be seen.

Hungary did a face palm. "Someone please bring us Juliet."

~:::::~

"Found you." Italy giggled.

"AH!" America jumped from his hiding spot. His hiding spot was being huddled in fetal-position in the farthest seat from the stage. How he got there without anyone's notice was beyond answering.

"What is wrong, America, why hide?" Italy asked, as he copied America's fetal-position.

"I don't wanna be Juliet and no one wants to trade with me," America answered. He looked like a little helpless kid as he did.

"Oh come on, Juliet is not so bad. You get the spotlight and everyone will see that America is very good character."

"Good character, I am a good character." America nearly snapped holding out his fist.

Italy faked coughed. "Yeah...um... point is I think you can do it. Be an amazing Juliet."

"But-"

"You'll be everyone's hero too."

"How?"

"Because-" Italy peeked over the seats at the stage. Everyone was scrambling around still looking for America, except for Russia, he was busy reading his lines. "-Only you can handle Russia. Please."

America sighed loudly. "Y-yeah. Y-you're right. Okay. " He quickly stood up, accidentally stepping on the hem of his dress and nearly falling, but caught himself in time. "I can do this."

"YAY!" Italy clapped happily.

~:::::~

As France and Romano were saying their lines, America stood opposite of Russia with the deadliest stare he could manage. What was more annoying was that Russia was just smiling (still not in Romeo character) with his eyes hiding whatever thoughts he had just to annoy America even more. It was kind of fun annoying the American.

"I hate you," America mumbled so no one, but Russia could hear.

"The feeling is mutual," Russia said with that same smile.

"So then why didn't you just switch with someone else, huh?" America demanded. He so wanted to punch Russia in the face.

"Why must I be the one to switch?" Russia threw back.

"Because no one wants to play opposite of you," America nearly snapped.

"Does it look like I care what others think, Amerika?"

America placed his hands on his hips and inhaled as much air as his lungs could hold. He opened his mouth to say something when Spain had to inform Russia that his lines were up. America groaned, great, the scene was coming up. It was the first day though, hopefully they won't make him do what the script said he had to do.

'"If I profane with my unworthiest hand,'" Russia began, taking hold of America's hand. (And F...K did America's heart just skipped a beat by the touch). '"This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this:- My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand-To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss,'" Then Russia did the unthinkable, he kissed America's hand.

America quickly pulled his hand away and moved far away from Russia as he could, because he was totally not expecting a kiss on the hand. Hungary did not add a -Romeo kiss Juliet's hand- into the script.

"CUT!" Hungary said out loud. And the scene was broken. "America, Juliet does not run away from Romeo." Hungary scolded.

America hid his red face by facing the wall of the stage. "She should what kind of girl allows a man to touch her so easily?" America grumbled quietly.

"Again! And Russia good job," Hungary gave Russia a thumbs up. She was even surprised that he even got into his character considering who he was playing opposite of.

America bit his lip. He should have been getting that compliment. F...K! He hates Russia a thousand times more.

~:::::~

Russia kissed America's hand again, this time making sure his lips lingered longer before letting the hand go.

America took a deep breath and kept his eyes reverted from Russia and wiped the kiss that he swore he could feel lingering on his hand. Yuck! He unfolded his script to say his lines because he did not have them memorized. "'G-good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, -Which m-ma-mannerly devotion sh-shows in this;-For saints have ha-hands that pilgrims' ha-hands do to-touch,-A-and palm to p-palm is h-holy p-palmers' kiss.'" Surprisingly Hungary didn't stop him, because America had to admit to himself- that, that was some horrible acting on his part.

'"Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?'" Russia continued. The scene was coming up even he was starting to sweat as it got closer. Shit! He was positive he could do this scene smoothly just to get at America's nerves, but the idea of having to kiss America.

'"Ay, pilgrim, li-lips that they m-must use in prayer." America continued to read, his hands trembling as he did.

'"O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do,'" Russia inhaled before he grabbed America's wrist and pulled him close. America squealed, completely caught off guard. "'They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.'" He leaned closer to America, their foreheads nearly touched.

(Hungary was paying very close attention to both Russia's and America's body movements as the scene got closer. Although, Russia was doing a good job saying his lines without the script in hand. She could see him hesitating. America, on the other hand, did not hide the fact that he did not want to kiss Russia.)

America began pulling away as Russia got close to his personal space, believe it or not, Americans loved their personal-space. "'S-saints d-do not move, though g-grant f-for p-prayers' sake.'"

'"Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take,'" And Russia froze, dropping America in the process.

America fell on his bottom -the cast snickered-.

"Okay, Cut!" Hungary said out loud. "Again."

.

.

.

"Cut! Again!"

"Again!"

"Pretend you're kissing someone you love."

"No. America, Russia is not a punching bag!"

"Russia don't kill America!"

.

.

.

-to be continued

Romeo and Juliet By: William Shakespeare Hetalia Cast :
Romeo: Russia
Juliet: America
Tybalt (Capulet) : Romano
Capulet: France
Lady Capulet: England
Montague: Germany
Lady Montague: Italy

Director: Hungary

Stage Manager: Lichtenstein

(More of the cast will be revealed as the story continues)

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