Boring stuff before the actual story:

Rated: T for Gilbo's bad mouth xD

Pairings: Austria/Hungary, Prussia/Hungary, US/UK, Germany/Italy, Russia/Belarus, {possible}Spain/Romano, France/Canada (*hides from Spaz*)

Disclaimer: Don't own Hetalia *gasp*

A/N: This chapter is from Hungary's POV. ^^


March 6, 20XX – Day 3

So, Day 3 of moviemaking hell was moviemaking hell. Nothing on the level of Day One, of course, but it was still bad.

I'm starting to believe that my only source of sanity is going to be Roderich, the sound guy, Ludwig, my co-director, and Kiku, that techie guy {incidentally, were their mothers all high when they named these kids or something?}.

The bane of my existence, then, would have to be… all the others. No, scratch that. My boss would have to take that position, sorry kiddies.

Vash is a good guy, I try to tell myself. Sure, he keeps a freaking M16 in his office, but that's not peculiar at all. And maybe he's a little overprotective of Lilli, and maybe he forced me to put her in the movie, and maybe he knows hiring me was a bad idea.

It's usually a clear sign that someone is totally inexperienced when they don't know where to begin.

That's why I keep talking to those three guys. It seems like everyone here has had something to do with movies, except me. I'm just a stupid Broadway castoff.

God, I really need to stop talking like that. I'm going to prove to Vash Zwingli that I'm worth every cent of the meager salary he's giving me. I know I'm not the best director ever…hell, I've never even been a director before except for when I directed that play for an assignment during college. And now I'm directing the most low-budget movie on the face of the planet.

I'd have to say that the college play was much better than this movie.

I haven't even begun to start the acting part. Oh God, I don't even want to think about it. Today Francis was bugging me about it, and I finally told him to go practice his lines with Gilbert, since they both seemed to have to same mental capacity.

And I quote: "But, Elizaveta, you cannot expect me to work with that hooligan!"

As if those two hadn't been drinking together after work last night. Seriously, I want to murder Vash for even thinking of hiring that winey French guy. Oh, wait – Lilli's a fan. Anything for our poor, dear Lilli.

Great. Now I feel like murdering something again. Just thinking of that guy makes me really pissed off. Does he think that just because he owns the studios, he can do anything he wants to?

Apparently he does. And, technically, he can.

I hate my life.

Later

Oops, sorry. Didn't finish my Francis rant.

So I get home and write this whole spiel about how much my life sucks, and then I get online and start reading fanfiction and normal nerdy-girl-in-her-20's stuff. Then my cell phone rings, and lo and behold! It's Francis the Frog!

He says something in French and then goes on to inform me that we should have a caterer, since all the movies he's been in have been catered. Right. I forgot how he was a star in his first movie.

His Mary Sue-ness makes me want to puke.

I didn't even bother being polite when I told him that we didn't have the money. He hung up, and then ten minutes later Vash called me and told me Francis had threatened to quit if we didn't have a caterer. Then Vash threatened me by saying that unless I hired a caterer for tomorrow, he would personally come to my apartment and shoot me {what a little creeper…}. So I basically had no choice but to agree.

I then proceeded to call Gilbert, which was a mistake. He wouldn't shut up about how he knew I'd call him eventually because he was so awesome and hey, did I want to go out with him on Saturday? I told him no, I wasn't calling him because he was awesome, no, I didn't want to go out ever, and did he happen to know the name of that bar Francis kept taking the guys to.

Gilbert relinquished the name, which I Googled. They had catering, thank God. So I called them and talked to this British guy for a few minutes, basically ordering him to bring food to the studios tomorrow. From the sound of it, I think I scared the shit out of him. Good. All in a day's work for Elizaveta the Completely and Utterly Terrifying.

March 7, 20XX – Day 4

Day four of moviemaking hell was more insanity than anything else. First off, traffic was awful today and the taxi driver got pissed at me because I didn't tip him enough. It's not my fault that I'm underpaid!

So I walk in only 10 minutes late {note: Alfred and Gilbert weren't there either} and Vash just happens to be in the studio and he's about to shoot my damn head off {how is this physically possible anyway?} until Lilli tells him no and tugs on his arm incessantly. But he still manages to give me a death glare. I can only be thankful that he's not the lecturing kind.

My boss-from-hell left pretty soon after that, so I was free to torture the underlings. Of course, the most obnoxious ones didn't arrive until… God, I don't even know how late they were. Then Gilbert asked me if his part was important the second he walked in the door. I'm very sorry, Gilbert, but "Sparkly Vampire #54" doesn't count as important.

Poor little Gilbo got pissed off at me, but I proceeded to ignore him. Instead, I talked to Roderich, Kiku, Ludwig, and Francis {since he's doubling as the fashion department as well} about boring movie stuff. I'm not even gonna repeat it here. I can't deal with writing down all the boring work stuff after living it.

Lunch finally came around and Francis was beyond ecstatic that we had catering. Gilbert was beyond ecstatic that they had beer. I wasn't ecstatic at all. I'm not one of those freaks who likes their job. Or their life at the moment. Yeah, I sound emo. What are you going to do? You're just a damn piece of paper.

The caterers were freaks. Two of them were Italian twins with weird hair curls. One of them was overly happy and was skipping and singing and giving everyone hugs. His brother was glaring at everyone and cussing people out. The third guy was British and had giant eyebrows. Seriously. It was probably the most disgusting thing I've ever seen in my life. Oh, and apparently him and Francis have this lifelong rivalry in which it is imperative to throw food at each other.

Then this hobo in a red hoodie came by and asked for food, but everyone forgot him after a minute or two. So he just kind of stood there the whole day. Alfred was the one who so graciously pointed this out to us. Francis kept trying to molest the poor hobo {who was really more of a teenager} and Eyebrows Caterer kept trying to murder Francis. Finally, we had to make Random Hobo leave, which we assured him was for his own benefit.

Then I realized that we'd managed to waste the whole afternoon. So I let all the hooligans go home early.

And…then something weird happened.

I was talking to Roderich about movie stuff while we walked to the parking lot, and we got to his car and I was going to catch a taxi and he was like, "Where are you going?"

"Home."

"Where's your car?"

"Don't have one."

"Oh…" And then I expected him to just shut up. But no. "Then you can ride home with me."

That was one of the top five most awkward car rides of my life. He didn't say anything except when he asked me for directions. Dude, if you're gonna give a girl a freaking ride home, you're hitting on her. SO SAY SOMETHING.

Tomorrow's Saturday, so I get the day off. Thank God.

March 9, 20XX – Day 5

Idiot-free weekend…yeah right. I don't even wanna talk about how majorly this sucked.

-OMAKE- {because this chapter is terribly short}

"Alright, idiots, we've got some food here, so eat it," Angry Caterer grumbled.

"Lovi~ don't be so mean!" Happy Caterer pleaded with his brother.

The Evil Director was leaning against the break room's white laminate counter, arms crossed, trying to avoid the {hideously fake} potted ficus that was constantly getting in her face.

"Alfred, stop trying to sneak around behind that damned ficus!" Evil Director snapped.

"But it works so well in movies!" Egotistical Hero Man protested.

"Why the hell are you sneaking around anyway?"

"I'm trying to stay away from that Russian psycho."

"Which one?"
"Ivan."

"C'mon, Alfred. He's sparkly."

"That's for the movie."

"Whatever. I'll have you know that I'm absolutely terrified of a sparkly Russian actor. It's not like he's gonna murder you with a…water pipe or anything."

"His sister would!"

"True."

"Would you like some pasta~?" Happy Caterer was now shoving a bowl of pasta at Egotistical-Hero-Ficus-Man and Evil Director.

"What the bloody hell?" Now Eyebrows Caterer had noticed the clump {not that they were being overly inconspicuous}

"Dude!!! You're British!!" Egotistical-Hero-Ficus-Man said with excessive punctuation.

"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed."

"Say some more stuff!" The overly energetic American clapped his hands in enthusiasm {although he still remained poorly hidden behind the ficus}.

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"YAY!!"

"Stop harassing the poor guy," Evil Director said. "He obviously doesn't want to put up with your stupidity."
"But his accent-"

"Yeah, his accent is sexy. GET OVER IT."

Silence.

"Don't make me hit you with Happy Caterer's frying pan."

Both the ficus and Eyebrows Caterer were suddenly afraid.

A/N: Sorry about the crappy omake...I thought the story was just waaaay too short. T.T

...I wonder what the other car rides on Hungary's "Top 5 Most Awkward Car Rides" list are...

AND CLIFFHANGER!! GASP!

Next chapter will be Gilbo again! He'll help us understand what happened ;) I've started writing it and I love it already! I'm hoping that it'll be longer than these two, since I'm on spring break right now and have more time to kill by writing! I've discovered that I like Gilbo's POV a lot...maybe it's just because chapter three is turning out so well, but w/e. Chapter four will be Hungary again...yes, they'll end up alternating the whole time.

Also - I have a question for you guys! Are there any other characters you wanna see in here? All the characters I plan on using have been introduced...although I may slip the Baltic Nations in eventually. But if there's anyone you wanna see, review and tell me!