Morijentes! That's Finnish nonsense for "Hello" and I wrote it here because it's cool to say hello in different languages, right? Am I cool now? Huh? : D Well anywhore, here's an update for the story. Celebrate! It's short, it has no FrUK at all, but it has ACE! : D ACE is nice, right? Oh yes, and hair talk. Because I love hair. HAIRRRRRRRRRRGH. Okay this chapter is pretty useless and boring, but necessary for introducing new people! Hmph!

"I'm sorry Al got this wasted", Matthew said to Arthur as they dragged a tall blonde up the stairs.

"It's his own fault for being a bloody idiot. Thank God he passed out, otherwise he would be quite noisy", Arthur responded. His younger brother laughed quietly.

"Can you remind me again why you two decided to take the top floor flat?" the Brit grunted.

"Pretty view?"

"It's the bloody 10th floor. Taking this drunk bastard there for a pretty view isn't much of a joy."

"I guess you're right. Don't worry, two more stairs left."

After a minute or two they had managed to drag Alfred up to the dim apartment. Matthew told Arthur to make himself comfortable while he got his twin to bed. The Brit sat down on the yellow couch in the living room, completely forgetting to take his coat off. Matthew's soft voice was heard from Alfred's bedroom as he tried to strip his brother, colourful swearwords slipping from his mouth, such as "you slimy greasedick" and "fucking tit cheek". Normally he would've left his brother to be, but now he was wearing his best suit and if he threw up, he'd be in BIG trouble. Finally he came back to the living room, slighty exhausted.

"Sorry it took so long", Matthew sighed and sat down on a black armchair. "You want to take your coat off?"

"Oh yes, that might be wise thing to do", Arthur realized and took of the black coat. His eyes noticed the lamp that was hanging from the ceiling, shattered.

"What happened?" he pointed at it, asking for an explanation. Matthew glanced up and chuckled humouressly.

"Al thought it would be a good idea to practice baseball inside."

"I see", Arthur smiled. Alfred had never been so bright in these matters, and him daily eating sugar so much it could kill a elephant certainly did not help.

"We've been out of light for a few days now, he procrastinates so much so he never gets himself to fix the lamp even though I nag about it all the fucking time."

"Could you remind me again why you two got to move on your own?"

"Mum had had enough of us."

"Yes, that explains it."

Arthur and the twins were actually half-brothers; their mother was the same but different fathers. Arthur's parents had got a divorce when he was three, and his mother had moved to States, leaving Arthur alone with his father in UK. His mother found new love in America and the twins were born, but it didn't last either and another separation was followed. She continued her journey to Canada with Matthew, leaving Alfred to his father. Despite the distances, the three of them had kept in touch and in the end the twins moved to England together so they would be closer to Arthur.

"How has your book been? Any progress?" Matthew asked. Arthur ran his hand through his hair and sighed.

"I've been trying to get forward, but I've had many problems. The plot seems to stay still, plus my new neighbours have disturbed me quite a lot."

"Really? How?"

"Ah, just noises from behind the wall. Actually, today I went to have a talk about it with them. They were very nice people, even though they were French."

"And?"

"What and?"

"I can tell there is more to that than just being French", Matthew said calmly. He had always been good reading people, especially his relatives. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Well, they're a sister and a brother. Emilie and Francis. Emilie is taking care of Francis since he is unable to do so himself."

"Why?"

"When did you become so curious? Isn't that Alfred's job?"

"His out, so I'm covering for him. So, why?"

"Well, Francis has multiple personalities."

Matthew blinked in surprisement and oh'ed. Before he could say anything Arthur cut in.

"I know what you're thinking, that the bloke is nuts, but he's not. I think. He seemed quite sane to me when we talked, and he was himself. Our first impressions...they were not so good though."

"What happened?"

"He was under the influence of one of his personalities, and that personality happened to be a woman. A flirty one. And this bloke isn't really feminine looking, so you can imagine what I felt like."

The Canadian couldn't help but laugh. The mental image of his prude and permanent-annoyed brother meeting a man in a dress was too much. Arthur blushed, but smiled. Finally Matthew managed to calm down, smiling widely.

"Sounds like you have interesting neighbours there. That's good, you were living quite a boring life anyway."

"Were not!"

"Were too. Al and I would go crazy if we had to live with you."

"I just happen to have routines, and I quite like them, thank you very much. Unlike you and your idiotic brother-"

"He's your brother too."

"-Whatever, I like to stay in control of my life. And this just popped into my head, have you payed your rent of the month?"

"We have! We pay it almost every time!" Matthew said, trying to raise his soft voice to sound angry or something, failing to do so. Oh, the times Arthur had come to save the boys from the landlord...there weren't enough fingers, toes and teeth to count.

Before they could continue their mild bickering, Alfred made a noise from the bedroom, a mixture of moaning and drunk rambling (The words "Yankees", "pony" and "alien tubes" were the only ones you could be certain you heard). Matthew and Arthur shared a look. The Brit rolled his eyes.

"His brains are still like a bloody 12-year-old's, aren't they?"

"Afraid so."

"And you have to live with him. You deserve a medal."

"C'mon, he's not that bad."

"I think he is. End of story", Arthur stated calmly and leaned back on the couch. His younger brother hmph'ed, amused, and flipped his hair off his face, which brought the Brit more to complain about.

"Cut your hair already. It's always hanging on your eyes."

"No it's not, just this one curl."

"Really? Because everytime I see you it seems like you're one of those dogs with their fur covering their eyes, you know what I'm talking about?"

"It's not that bad-"

"And of course, you look like a bloody girl."

"Oh come on, I do not. Many guys have long hair, and mine isn't even shoulder-lenght!" Matthew defended his mane. Arthur looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

"You're right. As a matter of fact, I happen to know one bloke who has long hair and he doesn't look like a girl."

"Who?"

"Francis."

Slightly annoyed by the comparison, the Canadian frowned.

"That doesn't mean anything."

"Really? How will I know for sure you aren't planning on to dress up like a pretty lassie?"

"Like what are the chances!"

"Then why is your hair so long?"

"I like it that way."

"Why?"

"Chicks dig it."

"They get jealous, that's what happens."

The Canadian failed to come up with a good argument, so he decided to ansrew by sticking his tongue out. Arthur smirked, quietly celebrating his victory.

"Will you cut your hair now?" he asked.

"No."

"Tought so. Well, don't say I didn't tell you to cut it. But I better get going, I'm going to meet my publisher tomorrow. Make sure Alfred doesn't shatter anymore lamps."

"You know that is impossible."

"Sadly, yes", Arthur sighed as he pulled on his coat.