Sorry for the delay. I found out a few days ago that Tokyopop, my favorite manga publisher, closed shop. It was…just a bit of a shock for me. Anyways, here's Chapter 4.
Chapter 4
"Is he okay?"
Bulgaria slowly reached down and poked the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus in the cheek. The boy didn't respond. He just laid there, his eyes swirly, his mouth hanging open, and his body twitching as his hands and feet remained curled in the air. "He looks like he's alive," Bulgaria said. He waved a cup of yogurt in front of his face. "Eĭ khlape! Would you like some yogurt?"
Outside of a quiet whimper, Northern Cyprus didn't respond to him.
Bulgaria looked up at the three Romanian siblings standing over them. "What do you think caused this?"
"It looks like fear," Transylvania said neutrally. "A whole bunch of magical creatures are running amuck here. It doesn't really surprise me."
"Perhaps he encountered something unlucky," Moldova said, leaning his chin into his hand. "Would that have caused this?"
"This seems almost…self-induced, though," Bulgaria said. "He'll probably snap out of it shortly."
Wallachia smiled, and slowly knelt down beside the catatonic child. "I know the…surest way to cure him."
"Don't, soră," Moldova said warningly. "Turkey would declare war on us if you did it."
Wallachia pouted slightly. "But wouldn't you like another brother, Moldova?"
"Moldova's right," Transylvania cut in. "We should leave this child alone."
"…Okay." Wallachia reached over to tug on Northern Cyprus's stiff fingers. She laughed lightly. "It was worth a shot though…"
"HÉ!"
Moldova and Transylvania stiffened, but Wallachia smoothly rose to her feet as Hungary ran over to them. "Hello, Elizabeta."
"What have you done with this child?" Hungary hollered, glaring at the four of them. Behind her, Austria was quickly approaching and looking a little exhausted. "You've done something weird to him, haven't you?"
"We found him like this!" Bulgaria said defensively. "Honest-to-God, we didn't do this!"
"He's right," Transylvania said calmly. "For what reason would we have to attack a child?"
"And why should I believe any of you?" Hungary almost took a step closer, but Austria quickly grabbed her arm to restrain her. "You menacing little…urgh!" Hungary clenched her fists at her sides.
"You're being a little hypocritical, aren't you Elizabeta?" Wallachia asked snidely. "For who of us has ever been as menacing as YOU?"
"Kurva!" Hungary spat, almost lunging at her. Austria had to bodily restrain her and pull her back. "Not now," he hissed in her ear.
Wallachia calmly folded her arms over her chest. "Do you have something you want to say to me, Hungary?"
Hungary growled at her, but she relaxed in Austria's arms. When he let her go though, she surged forward and grabbed Northern Cyprus. "You just keep your dirty hands off him!" she snapped, and stormed off with the catatonic child. Austria only sighed, and quickly followed her.
Bulgaria slowly blinked. "Why is she so angry?"
Wallachia shrugged. "Who knows?"
"…I'm next," Russia said, smiling to himself. His scarf was still tucked around his shoulders, but he wore a navy blue suit underneath.
"You look like you're in a better mood now," Armenia said, managing a small smile.
"Of course," Russia replied cheerfully. Or, as cheerfully as he could manage. "I have found out that China is in the audience."
"That's good. You can dedicate your song to him if you want."
Russia's smile developed into something a little more sinister. "I think I might do that…Kolkolkol…"
"Big Brother."
Both countries stiffened as Belarus materialized beside Russia, giving him a very intense look. "Why do you avoid me, Big Brother? Did you not hear the song I sang for you?"
"O-Of course I did," Russia stammered, forcing a smile. "Well! I must be going to my performance now! Cheer for me, Armenia!"
"Of course," Armenia said. "And best of luck."
"Wait, Big Brother!" Belarus snapped. But Russia was hurrying off. She clenched her fists at her sides and began shaking. "To keep avoiding me, and yet keeping company with others! You are too cruel, Big Brother!"
"Ah…" Armenia was starting to feel a little uncomfortable and began to back up. "I-I'll just leave now."
"You!" Belarus suddenly grabbed him by his collar. "WHY DOES HE LIKE YOU MORE THAN ME?"
"U-Uh…" Armenia unfortunately had too many experiences dealing with very intimidating people, but this one really took the cake. "Er…I…"
Georgia was walking with Azerbaijan when he saw this. Azerbaijan stiffened violently, but Georgia cursed. "Belarus…what is she doing?"
He moved to walk over and stop her, but Azerbaijan grabbed his arm. "Leave them be," she said harshly. "He probably said something inappropriate to her!"
"Armenia wouldn't do that," Georgia said defensively. "That's not in his nature."
"Not in his nature? He's a whining, crybaby thief! Of course that's in his nature!"
Georgia narrowed his eyes at her. "Azerbaijan. You're my close friend, but I won't tolerate you bad-mouthing him like that. Don't forget he's my friend."
"But he's close to Russia!" Azerbaijan snapped back. "The country who's your mortal enemy! What kind of friend is THAT?"
"…That's his own business," Georgia said reluctantly. He raised his free arm. "Belarus!"
Belarus stilled, and turned her head to look at him. "Tak?"
"There's something I'd like to talk with you about," he said slowly. "Can you come with me, please?"
Belarus stared for a long moment before she nodded. "Okay." She let Armenia go and started towards them.
Azerbaijan snorted. "Here you are, bailing him out. And he'll continue to be close to Russia, the ungrateful bastard…"
"She was displeased, though," Georgia said. "It may have been Russia who displeased her. If that's the case…" he smiled slightly. "Then he's bound to do horribly this year."
As Russia was ready to take the stage, he felt his cell phone buzz. He quickly pulled it out of his pocket to check his messages.
Ukraine (mobile)
"Best of luck!"
Russia managed a small smile as he tucked his phone away. Even if his older sister was unable to approach him, it still made him feel good to have her encouragement.
Sweden leaned forward and looked down the row. "Norway."
"Hmm?" the other Nordic gave him a sideways glance. "What is it?"
"Can I talk to you briefly?"
"Why do you want to talk to Norge?" Denmark snapped.
"Sure," Norway said, standing up.
"Why can you talk to HIM so easily and yet you ignore ME?" Denmark whined.
"Don't take too long," Finland said. "Russia's about to take the stage."
"We won't…go far," Sweden responded. Indeed, they only walked down the aisle and out of earshot from the other countries. "I'll keep this brief."
"Okay," Norway said, looking at him levelly. "What is it?"
"Are you certain about this wager you have made with Denmark?"
Norway blinked very slowly in surprise. But that was all he revealed on his face. "What about it?"
Sweden shrugged stiffly. "He seems…overly confident. And you know how he acts when he's victorious."
"…Ja." Norway shook his head. "But it's okay. I don't think he'll score in the top five."
"But he might," Sweden said. "You would be better off calling off the bet."
"I can't."
Sweden brow rose. "Why not?"
"I can't," Norway emphasized. "It's too late for me to back down."
Sweden was silent for a moment before he spoke. "It sounds like this wager has become more complicated than it ever should have been. Why would you agree to take it when you know Denmark as well as you do?"
"What does it matter to you?" Norway said flatly. "Besides, what part of 'he made an offer I couldn't refuse' do the rest of you don't understand?"
Sweden's brow relaxed, but he frowned. "And apparently…you made him an offer he couldn't refuse, either."
Norway gaped in horror at Sweden, unable to form words. The taller Nordic simply turned around and walked back to his seat. After a moment, Norway stormed after him.
Denmark smiled obliviously at them. "So, what did you guys talk about?"
"Shut up," Norway said rudely, quickly retaking his seat.
"And…Russia's up next," America read grimly from the program.
"He is, aru?" China asked warily.
Lithuania and Latvia stiffened, while Estonia rolled his eyes. Taiwan laughed a little and offered her soda to China, who shook his head. "We might as well enjoy the performance, ne?"
"…I hope so."
Taiwan smiled and leaned forward to address America. "Say America, when—"
"Japan," America interrupted. "Please advise Taiwan that by orders of my boss I do not have official diplomatic relations with her as per the 'One-China Policy'."
Japan blinked. "Uh…"
"But what about unoffic—" Pakistan began.
"DON'T TALK TO ME!" America snapped.
Poland looked less than pleased. "Here Russia comes with his, like, totally lame-ass song!"
"I-I wouldn't call his song lame, Feliks," Lithuania said feebly.
"Don't tell me you're, like totally defending him Liet! You, like, totally act like you have Stockholm Syndrome with those siblings!"
Sweden winced from his seat.
"I do not have Stockholm Syndrome!" Lithuania said defensively. "But I'm not going to lie about Russia's singing abilities! And I'm not going to deny how much I annoy Belarus with my feelings!"
"SHE BREAKS YOUR BONES AND OPENLY EXPRESSES HATE FOR YOU!" Poland hollered at the top of his lungs. "Stop defending her, Liet!"
"Why don't you be quiet, Feliks!" Lithuania snapped suddenly, startling his fellow Baltics and others around him. "Belarus doesn't bother me! YOU bother me! If you weren't constantly annoying me all the time, then I would've been able to concentrate during my song!"
Poland stilled, and he gave Lithuania a peculiar look. "Then…you were totally singing about me, Liet?"
Lithuania realized too late that he'd said too much, and his whole face turned red. "Ah…er…"
Thankfully for Lithuania, music rose from the stage before he was forced to respond. Russia began vocalizing and singing in his native language. Despite the soothing nature of his tone, the entirety of the audience shivered.
Armenia watched from backstage, one of the few actually cheering Russia on. "Good luck…"
"Choke! Choke!" Georgia shouted at his green room television.
Russia smiled, and his eyes were half-lidded as he leaned his mouth into the microphone he held. "Do you feel my heartbeat, Europe?"
All three Baltics flinched, and a few people whimpered in the audience.
Russia could see where the other countries were sitting, and he saw the Baltics looking quite scared. And maybe…yes, China was there. And he looked uncomfortable. His smile widening, Russia wasted no time leading into his song. "I choose my words like wise men do. And tonight…I'll GET YOU right."
His backup dancers began dancing with the beat, but Russia only swayed slightly. "I rule my world like great men do. And I fight…I fight for MINE."
"He seems pretty intense," Finland said, rubbing at his arms.
"And you…look so good…on the floor. Put my mind in a DIRTY ZONE." Russia smiled again. "If they watch…let them watch…Not losing you to-night!
"Oh-oh! I'm coming to GET YOU! Oh-oh! I'm running! I'm coming for YOU! Oh-oh! I'm gonna GET YOU!"
"Why is he over-punctuating?" Poland asked. "It sounds, like, totally annoying!"
"…He's making a point," Lithuania said quietly.
"NĒ!" Latvia screamed. He clamped his hands to his face. "HE'S COMING TO GET US!"
"Shhh!" Estonia hissed.
Russia heard the shouting, and couldn't suppress his laugh. "Kolkolkol…I lost mind somewhere between your face…and your perfect shape."
"Between your face?" America echoed. "What the hell does that mean?"
"In between looking at the face and body," Japan clarified embarrassedly.
"I found a pleasure watching you have fun…fooling around."
China tensed suddenly, his fingers curling into his plush panda. Pakistan saw this. "Is something wrong?"
"…Wú, aru," China said slowly, tucking his chin on top of his panda.
"Oh-oh! I'm coming to GET YOU!" Russia smiled at a very specific section of the audience. "Oh-oh! I'm running! I'm coming for YOU! Oh-oh! I'm gonna GET YOU! I! Know! You! You WANT me to!"
"He…likes saying 'get you', doesn't he?" America asked.
Latvia was shivering violently in his seat, and Lithuania was becoming increasingly pale. Poland rubbed his arm awkwardly and glared murderously at Russia.
"If you really want to have fun tonight," Russia breathed into his microphone, his tone suddenly very deep…hypnotizing. "Just scream."
Latvia let out a blood-curdling scream that lasted for a short second before Estonia slapped a hand over his mouth. Some other people in the audience obligingly screamed as well.
"Oh-oh! I'm coming to GET YOU!"
"Ugh, we totally get the point!" Poland fumed in frustration. He suddenly stood up and cupped his hands around his mouth. "HEJ! Why don't you put a cork in it you GRUBAS?"
"FELIKS!" Lithuania cried out, yanking the other country back into his seat.
Russia faltered from the insult, but only slightly. "I'm coming for YOU!"
"Did you see that?" Georgia laughed. "He messed up! No Eurovision 2012 in Moscow!"
"And you won't need to be deliberately disqualified," Azerbaijan said playfully.
"It wasn't deliberate! How was I supposed to know that his boss was so sensitive?"
"Russia won his first Eurovision in 2008 and hosted the 2009 contest in Moscow. Because of the hostilities between Russia and Georgia, there was constant debate about whether or not Georgia would compete. Georgia decided to compete, but sent in a song called "We Don't Wanna Put In", with the 'put in' part pronounced in a way that sounded like Putin, after Russia's Prime Minister Vladimir Putin. Russia found this very offensive. When Georgia refused to replace the song or change the lyrics, ESC disqualified him. Georgia would return to complete in 2010 in Oslo, Norway with no problems."
Despite the minor disruptions, Russia finished his song without a hitch. The audience cheered for him, but it was difficult to tell if they were genuinely pleased with the song or just terrified of him. He smiled and waved to the audience. Da, keep cheering. For when you all are one with me, the screams you chorus together will be in misery…
Poland yanked out his phone. "Zero points! That's right!"
"Ah…" Latvia's hands shook as he checked his phone. "Zero points. G-Good…"
"I, uh, gave him six," Lithuania read.
"Five," Estonia said.
"Nothing," Sweden said, tucking his phone away.
"Me too," Denmark said.
"…And me," Norway said.
"Three for three!" Denmark cheered.
"What?"
"A-And me," Finland said. "I also didn't score him."
"ARA!" Georgia screamed when he saw his phone. "Ra jojokhet'i?"
"Georgia, what's the matter?" Azerbaijan came right to his side.
"I gave Russia FOUR POINTS!" Georgia yelled. "That bastard doesn't deserve ANYTHING from me! HOW did I give him four points?"
"I gave him four points as well," Azerbaijan said grimly. She rubbed at her forehead. "Is this karma for trying to sabotage him?"
"Screw karma!" Georgia shouted, throwing his cell phone at the couch.
"…I gave him five points," Belarus said slowly, as though she hadn't heard them. "That's what he gets for refusing me…"
Russia saw Armenia waiting for him as he came backstage. "Y-You did a wonderful job, Russia. Your performance was very intense."
"Spasibo," Russia said sincerely. "And you gave me twelve points, da?"
Armenia suddenly looked very uncomfortable, and fidgeted where he stood. "Ah…you see…"
"No twelve points? That's okay; it's still early in the program after all. But you gave me ten like last year, da?"
"Um…" Armenia looked like he was in pain. Without saying a word he yanked his cell phone out and handed it to Russia.
Russia flipped open the phone and quickly opened the text. What he saw caused his brow to rise. "Eight points?" he looked at the other country in surprise. "This is the lowest you've ever given me, Armenia."
"I-I know," Armenia stammered. "I don't know what's going on, but everything's just crazy! Not all of my votes are counted, my appeal is denied, and I score you so low! I'm so sorry, Russia!"
Russia sighed very quietly and reached for him. People nearby flinched, whereas Armenia remained still. But Russia didn't hit him or hurt him in any means, just simply tucking the hair behind his ears. "There's really no need to apologize. It's not you personally who scores me. Besides, it's something I deserve, I think. You were just one-point shy of qualifying, and had I given you my perfect instead of Finland, you would've made it through. I should've performed better tonight, too."
"I-I see." Armenia slowly nodded. "I'm glad you aren't offended."
"H-He's letting it go?" one stagehand hissed to another. "But that's Russia!"
"But that's one of his closest allies," the other hissed back. "What would he gain by hurting him?"
"Ah!" Russia said, rechecking his phone. "My sister Ukraine has also given me eight points!"
Hungary leaned her chin into her palm as she smiled at the little boy sitting in front of her. "Do you feel better?"
Northern Cyprus nodded eagerly as he shoved cookies into his mouth. "Much better! I don't remember what happened, though!"
"Well…" Hungary's smile broadened. "Since you've wandered so far from Turkey, why don't we play a little dress-up game?"
"Huh?"
"Hungary," Austria said, calmly cleaning his glasses.
Germany snapped his phone shut and sighed. "…Okay. I officially give up. I can't reach Aniki, and I'm set to go onstage soon. I…" he heaved out an incredibly sad sigh. "I'm going to have to do this alone…"
"Doistuuuuuu!"
Germany turned and saw Italy running into the room, crying uncontrollably. He had a hand to his head. "W-What is it?"
"Nii-san!" Italy wailed, rubbing at his head. "He hit me! He hit me really hard!"
"Why would he do that?" Germany asked, taking him by his shoulders. He saw Hungary giggling behind them and suddenly felt a little self-conscious.
"B-B-Because!" Italy wailed. "He's working me so hard and it's all so difficult and I CAN'T REMEMBER WHEN I COME IN DURING OUR SONG!" Italy quickly hugged Germany and cried into his shoulder.
"You can't remember?" Austria echoed. "B-But you're next after France!"
"Come on," Germany said hastily, dragging Italy to the green room bathroom. "Show me where he hit you, and also talk about this song."
The door slammed shut behind them. Hungary laughed even harder, while Austria rubbed at his forehead.
Northern Cyprus though stared blankly at the bathroom door. "Did that guy really kick Turkey's ass?"
"In the 15 century, the Ottoman Empire launched a campaign against Italy to claim the land. Unfortunately, he chose a horrible time to start another war, as a civil war erupted inside of the Empire itself during the campaign. To add insult to injury, Italy's army was not as big or as mighty as the Ottoman's but he managed to hold his own against the invaders. On May 3, 1481, the controversial sultan Mehmed II died and the Italy campaign was officially cancelled, having never advanced very far."
Germany sat Italy down on the toilet. "Okay, show me where he hit you."
"Here." Italy pointed to the right side of his head with a trembling hand.
"Okay, let me see…" Germany gently raked his fingers through Italy's hair at this spot. "Ah, I found it. You had a nasty bump here, Italy."
Italy whimpered, getting ready to cry again. Germany sighed and patted him on his unhurt side of the head. "The swelling will go down. At least he didn't bruise your face."
"But I'm scared!" Italy cried. "I can hardly remember the lyrics, even though Nii-san and I have been practicing for months! And whenever he pushes me when we rehearse I just freeze! H-He's going to start the song and I'm supposed to come in for the duet, b-but I…" he wasn't wailing anymore, but crying very softly. "I'm not having fun, Germany…"
Germany sighed again, and knelt down so that they were eye-level. "Then…why not let Romano do it alone?"
"Eh?" Italy blinked through his tears and gaped at Germany. "W-What? Let Nii-san perform alone?"
"Never mind not knowing the lyrics or not knowing your cue. If this is causing you too much stress, and if you aren't having any fun, then what is it worth? A three-minute song isn't worth all these complications, Italy."
Italy was silent for a moment, and he reached up to wipe away his tears with his sleeve. "I-I don't know, Germany…"
Germany was silent for a moment before he pulled out his cell phone. He opened his saved messages and cycled through them until he found the one he wanted. "Here. Read this, please."
Italy took the phone from him to read the text message.
Italy (mobile)
"Doitsu, Doitsu! Nii-san said he saw you backstage, and it reminded me! I want to wish you good luck! The absolute bestest good luck in the whole, entire world! I just know you're going to do great this year! I have a feeling that you will most definitely win, but even if you don't the important thing is that you have fun, right?"
Italy glanced at Germany in surprise. "Y-You kept this?" he looked back down at the phone.
"You sent that to me last year, remember? I was so pissed off right before I got this message, but it uplifted me in more ways than…I can really put into words." Germany rubbed the back of his own neck awkwardly. "I mean, I was still embarrassed to sing the song but I tried to have fun with it. That made going onstage really worth it to me."
Italy stared at the phone for a long time. Then he looked at Germany. "I want to have fun too, Doitsu. And I want to sing to you like you sang to me last year."
"Well, then…why not focus on that?" Germany feel heat on his face and he ducked his head. "Don't worry about your brother or about embarrassing yourself. Big brothers are too much of a hassle, anyway." And I'm going to kill you, Aniki, when I see you!
Italy's face lit up all of a sudden. "I…I got it! Germany!" Italy grabbed him in a tight hug once more. "I want to sing to you, Germany! A-And I want you to enjoy my song! That's what I want most! More than winning or anything like that!"
Germany's heart thudded hard against the wall of his chest. Italy innocent sincerity was incredibly touching. "Danke, Italy. And I know, despite the apprehension that you'll do fine."
"Grazie, Germany!" Italy cheered happily. "Ti amo!"
Germany's whole face turned red as he recognized the Italian words. "I-Italy—!"
Italy pulled back slightly to plant a kiss onto Germany's mouth.
Germany didn't know if this was some innocent impulse or a genuine romantic-meaning kiss, but he wasn't about to complain. Still, it surprised him how something as simple as a kiss could melt his whole body. He slid his arms around Italy's waist and leaned forward. He hoped Italy didn't notice how hard his heart was pounding.
It was then that the bathroom door violently swung open. "Veneziano, where—AUGH!"
Germany abruptly pulled away from Italy and turned towards the door. Romano was standing there, his face full of rage. Behind him inside the green room, Austria watched on with a bland look on his face, while Hungary was covering her mouth and laughing.
"Ma che CAZZO!" Romano screamed, lunging forward. Thankfully for Germany, he had good reflexes and jumped out of the way. "Get off my brother, you FOTTUTO SOVVERTIRE!"
"Nii-san, don't talk to Germany like that!" Italy cried out, jumping up as well. "We were just kissing, that's all!"
Hungary was now openly laughing. Romano screamed again, and scrubbed at his ears. "LA, LA, LA! I don't want to hear the disgusting details, Veneziano! We're going onstage soon and you're SUCKING FACE with this potato bastard! Are you trying to piss me off?"
"Do you need to yell?" Germany demanded, standing up to his full-height and squaring off his body in case Romano decided to attack him again.
"Him, with his bad smell and his evil aura and his RETARDED TOURISTS!" Romano continued as if Germany hadn't spoken. "Have some sense, Veneziano!"
"Germany helped me!" Italy insisted, standing up to his brother. "I didn't want to perform because you're constantly screaming at me and hitting me! But now, because of him, I know what to do in the song and I want to have fun! So don't talk about him like that!"
"Just shut up and come on!" Romano grabbed Italy by his collar and proceeded to drag him from the room.
"Doitsu!" Italy wailed behind him.
"W-Wait—" Germany said.
"Hold on," Austria said, coming to his side. "They go onstage very soon. It's not wise to split them up right now."
"B-But…ugh!" Germany scrubbed a hand over his face. It was frustrating that this tender moment he had with Italy ended on such a sour note.
But…he said I encouraged him. Germany smiled a little to himself. If he's able to get through his performance just fine, then dealing with Romano's antics is worth it.
Northern Cyprus looked at the adults in the room with irritated confusion. "Just what were you guys doing in the bathroom?"
Germany quickly ducked his head as he felt heat on his cheeks. "Er…it was…"
"Italy! Romano!" France cheered, waving a rose to them. "Come! You go next after me!"
Romano let out a squawk and dragged Italy into another room. France sighed, and held the rose to his lips. "To not be blessed with Italy's embrace before I perform…what a tragedy!"
"Er…" England slowly approached him. "I'm going to regret asking this, but why are you dressed like that…guy America mentioned?"
"Lestat?" France asked. He chuckled. "I came before him, remember? I believe…he may have copied me."
"He's a fictional character you git!"
"Oh, you—"
"France!" a stagehand ran up to him. "We're ready for you!"
"Oui, oui." France calmed down and smiled sinisterly at England. "Why don't you take some pointers from my performance, England. I'm about to…seduce the audience."
"That's what you think," England muttered as France walked away.
"Turkey!"
"Huh?" Turkey looked over his shoulder just in time to see Albania jump on him and crush him in a hug. Ack! S-Selam, Albania. You wouldn't have happened to have seen Northern Cyprus would you?"
Albania thought about it as he released Turkey. "Well, I heard a hawkmoth—"
"It's nothing," Cyprus cut in sharply as he approached with Greece.
"Did I ask you?" Turkey snapped. He turned back to Albania. "What's this about a hawkmoth?"
"Japan," Greece said, frowning slightly as he debated where he would sit. "I wanted to apologize about forcing that ouzo on you."
"I-It's really no problem," Japan said. "I could've refused it, but I didn't. It only made me woozy for awhile, demo I feel better now."
"Ah." Greece smiled, and spotted a seat open in front of Japan. "I'm glad you aren't angry with me."
"Japan, don't excuse his bad behavior!" Turkey snapped. "He was probably looking to get you nice and drunk so he could do dirty things to you! Thankfully it's never gotten that far!"
Japan turned bright red, and Greece smiled to himself. If only you knew, Turkey…
Cyprus took a seat next to Greece, while Albania remained with Turkey. "Just let me know when that bastard Serbia takes the stage. I've got a few colorful things I'd like to say to him…"
"…From the audience?" Turkey asked slowly.
"Hey!" San Marino cried out, turning in his seat. "Don't call Serbia a bastard!"
"Um, dudes, let's not get into a fight in the audience!" America tried to mediate.
"He's right," Pakistan said. "We shouldn't—"
"I thought I told you not to talk to me!" America barked.
"He's not talking to you, aru!" China snapped.
"…So much for that," Canada muttered quietly to Mr. Kumajirou.
"…like that," Seborga said, smiling. He'd been talking nonstop for at least fifteen minutes.
Wy forced a smile at him. "That's nice, but I'd really like to enjoy the show now Seborga. Why don't you go back to your seat?"
"Yeah, bugger off mate!" Australia laughed. "I can barely hear the performances over your talking!"
Seborga grumbled, but climbed back into his seat beside San Marino.
"De-NIED!" Sealand laughed from his seat.
"At least I'M a real country!" Seborga fired back.
"WHAT?"
"Everyone, just CHILL!" Poland shouted. "This isn't, like, a world conference! It's just a singing contest and we're supposed to be, like, totally civil!"
"So says the country who heckled Russia during his performance," Estonia said thoughtfully.
Still, the countries knew better than to let their tempers flare at Eurovision over non-musical stuff. Though some countries spread out to take different seats to keep anger at bay.
Except, America refused to move. So did China, and so Pakistan didn't move either.
Dramatic music rumbled through the arena, signaling the next performance. "Wait, who's next?" America asked. He squinted at his program. "…France?"
"Sognu…di ste labbre." It was indeed France. He stood at the microphone, staring at the audience very intensely. "Di sta voce…chjara è pura…"
"Is that…opera?" America asked.
"It sure sounds like it," Japan said.
"Well, this is a first," Poland said. Then he thought about it. "I think."
"Whoo-hoo, Francis!" Spain cheered for his friend.
"Sognu…mi lamentu…" France was putting everything into belting out the notes. Despite his earlier confidence, there was no denying that the song was suited for an operatic tenor. Something that Francis Bonnefoy certainly was not. "U moi core…'n hà primura…Di a vita…aspettu dumane…"
England rubbed at his ear. "If I have to hear this frog-language, I just might throw up!"
"But he's singing in Corsican," Scotland pointed out.
"Which is from Corsica which is his territory!" England snapped.
"Spart'u mondu cun tè! Ma TU…ti ne vogli'andà!" France felt the strain in his throat and quickly pulled out his rose. "Canteraghju VITTORIA!" he rubbed the flower sensually against his cheek. "Luntanu de tè! Pensu sempre che! Sei intornu a mè, sognu di TÈÈÈÈÈÈÈÈ!"
As the music played, or maybe to distract from his singing, France began dancing very erotically onstage, even in his Victorian outfit. He even ran his tongue up and down the stem of the clipped rose. It had the desired effect on the women in the audience, who began screaming.
Spain was laughing from this. "Francis is having a bit of fun!"
"It looks like he's getting to second-base with that rose," America said.
"This isn't appropriate!" Finland cried out, covering Åland's eyes.
"Mamma, vad är fel?" Åland asked beneath his hands.
"Ei mitään—ah, ingenting," Finland hastily corrected himself.
"Oh, for God's sake!" England yelled, covered his face as he watched the performance.
The Italy brothers approached the curtain. "Ve!" Italy cheered, clapping lightly. "France-nii-san!"
"Don't cheer for that pervert!" Romano snapped. He rubbed at his temples. "No, no, I can't get riled up! We're up next!"
"Canteraghju!" France belted out once more. "Canteraghju a TÈ!"
"Holy shit, he sucks!" Romano yelled. He laughed. "This is perfect! We're going to shine after this garbage!"
"He doesn't suck, Nii-san!" Italy demanded.
"He sucks something," England muttered.
Italy looked at him. "Eh?"
France finished with surprising flare and gave a full bow as the audience screamed. He twirled the rose around his finger as he sauntered off stage. They melted like butter…they're mine.
"Zero points," Norway read dully.
"Four," Finland said wearily. "France should warn us when he pulls these stunts…"
"When has he ever?" Denmark laughed. "Ah well, I gave him nothing too! Norge! Our minds really are in-synch!"
Norway looked at him. "What?"
"This is the fifth time we've marked the same scores! Fifth…" Denmark chuckled to himself. "I really like that number…"
Norway's look turned into a deadly glare.
"I also gave him nothing," Sweden said stoically.
Sealand suddenly grabbed his sleeve. "Papa-Sweden, can't you recognize me as a country? I'm sick of these micro nations using that against me when they can't win an argument! Please please please PLEEEEEEEEASE!"
Sweden gaped at him. "Ah…er…"
Greece flipped open his phone. "…Wow. I gave him a perfect score."
"Seven," Cyprus said.
"Nothing," Turkey said, though he glared at the back of Greece's head. "Why am I not surprised you'd give a perfect score to a performance that almost became pornographic?"
"I also gave him twelve points!" Belgium cheered.
"Ten points!" Spain laughed.
"Two," Albania said.
"Me too," Portugal said.
"Three!" San Marino cheered.
"I didn't score him," Lithuania said.
Poland shrugged. "Neither did I, but who cares? Italy's up next!"
"That's right!" Spain said, smiling broadly.
"Yay fratelli!" San Marino cheered. Seborga grumbled, but he did sit up a little straighter.
"It's funny, though," Portugal said to Spain. "That for years Romano complained about the idea of the Big Four's immunity, but the minute he gets included in it the complaints stop."
Spain shrugged. "That's just how he is, no?"
"Italy?" Japan said. He smiled. "I look forward to his performance."
"Just one kiss, non?" France purred, puckering his lips.
"Get the FUCK off me!" Romano shrieked, restraining France with all his might.
Italy stood there helplessly. "A-Ah…"
"Just get off him, frog-face!" England hollered. "They go onstage RIGHT NOW!"
"Italy?"
Italy perked up at this voice and France stiffened. "Doitsu!"
Germany was running over with Austria and Hungary. Northern Cyprus was noticeably absent. "Are you about to go on?"
"Sí! And I will give an absolutely perfect performance for you!"
Germany smiled and nodded. "I really look forward to it."
"Um, EXCUSE ME?" Romano snapped, still restraining France's head. "Can one of you assholes help me out here?"
"France!" several stagehands rushed over. "Are you harassing Italy before their performance?"
France abruptly let Romano go, and laughed haughtily. "I only intended to give him a good-luck kiss. He didn't exactly say 'no', you kno—OOF!"
Romano violently head-butted him in the back, sending him flying through the backstage area. "I've been SCREAMING no, and pushing you away! Cazzo di sporco bastardo pervertito!"
"Just calm down," Austria said, raising his hands. "They're about to call you onstage. You don't want to throw your voice out before you get out there, Romano!"
"Whatever, whatever." Romano brushed himself off and took several deep breaths. "Just give me a moment to compose myself."
Nearby, Iceland was rubbing at his head as he typed in a text message. "It's turning into some hellish circus back here. There's fighting and screaming, and I just saw France get head-butted into space. I think some people forgot this was a singing contest."
He sent the message, and shook his head. "I need to find some aspirin…"
The phone hummed in his hand, and he was surprised that he got a response so quickly.
Oji-san (mobile)
"Would you like me to come backstage and help you to feel better?"
The message was so innocent, but Iceland nearly dropped his cell phone in shock. Trying to keep his mind out of the gutter, he sent a quick reply. "You're already in the audience, so I'd rather not inconvenience you by having you run between back here and out there. I'll be okay."
"We'll do fine, Nii-san!" Italy said confidently. "I have this feeling we're going to do great!"
"Just don't miss your cue," Romano reminded him.
Italy smiled and nodded. "I know it now. Thanks to Germany of course."
Romano gaped at him. "A-Are you serious? We've been practicing our song for months and you JUST NOW got it?"
"…Remember calming down?" Hungary said playfully.
"You both will do fi—" Germany began.
"Shut up, I don't need your encouragement!"
The arena began to darken once more, and a buzz of excitement resonated throughout the audience. Everyone knew who was coming next. And it was a much anticipated performance.
"D-Do you go now?" Italy asked.
Romano shook his head. "They still have to announce us, Veneziano."
"Oh, okay."
"Wait, announce you?" Austria asked.
"Ladies and gentlemen…" a woman's soothing voice came up through the arena. "It is the moment you've been waiting for. A moment fourteen years in the making. You last saw them as they competed in Ireland in 1997. For so long we were without them to grace our stage…without their voice or talents. And they were sorely missed.
"But now…now it is time. They have returned again, here tonight in Germany! I hereby welcome ITALY to the stage!"
The audience shrieked with joy and anticipation. Italy heard the screaming and he shivered with excitement. "Wow…that's all for us?"
Romano smiled sincerely for the first time all night at Italy. "Well…let's come back with a bang, Veneziano." With that said, he hurried onto the darkened stage to take his position. Italy would remain offstage to enter in for his solo.
Austria blinked ever so slowly. "That was…something else."
"Ja," Germany said.
"As I recall though, I'm also returning after an extended absence. Yet for my semi-final round they didn't announce me onstage like that."
"Sajnálom," Hungary said sympathetically, rubbing Austria's arm.
Austria felt a hum in his pocket and checked his text message.
Prussia (mobile)
"YOU SUCK! BWAHAHAHAHA!"
Austria growled in fury and snapped his phone shut.
Romano took his spot at the front of the stage, the musicians ready behind him. He could play musical instruments, of course, but he felt better for this performance to be directly in front of the crowd.
And the crowd…Romano looked out over the audience. And promptly froze.
He knew there were at least 32,000 people in attendance, but it never struck him until every single one of them was looking at him. He bit down hard on his lower lip. No, no! I'm not going to get stage freight now! I won't screw everything up like Veneziano would!
And Italy would no doubt screw everything up. So Romano was prepared to sing the entire song himself if necessary.
"So…what kind of song are they going to sing?" America asked.
"A stupendo song!" San Marino cheered.
A piano beat came up from the stage, followed by a violin. Romano took a deep breath and raised his microphone. "Dire si…dire mai…non è facile, sai…"
Screams emulated from the crowd, and Romano smiled smugly. "And all the world around you seems to slip and disappear…"
"Sugoi!" Japan gasped. "T-They're singing jazz!"
"Huh," America said slowly. "That doesn't seem to suit them, does it?"
"Magnífico!" Spain cheered.
Romano was ready to launch into the chorus when he saw movement at the side of the stage. "Ma vedrai…un altro me…in un sogno fragile!" Italy sang out, earning more cheers from the audience. Laughing a little, he hurried over to stand beside Romano. "Riderai! Come se…non ti avessi amato mai."
Romano gaped at him for a brief second with a look of 'holy-shit-I-can't-believe-you-remembered-your-part', and joined in the singing. "Cercherai! Un altro me…oltre all'ombra di…un caffè. Troverai…solo me…Se mi fermo un attimo, io non so più chi SEIIIII!" both brothers belted out the last word as loud as they could, though surprisingly Italy was louder than Romano.
"…Wow," Austria said at length as the piano launched into a solo. "This is a really good song."
"A-Are you actually complimenting modern music?" Germany asked, taken off-guard.
"I said most of it is terrible, not all of it!"
"Qui si! Vive così!" Romano sang, growing increasingly pleased by the positive response they were receiving. "Day by day! Night by night!"
"But someone hit me and I fell into your heart, my dear," Italy followed, his eyes glancing towards the side of the stage as he sang.
Germany saw the brief look, and he laughed involuntarily. He…He's singing to me?
Both Italy and Romano were becoming increasingly enthusiastic about the song. Italy even began twirling around as Romano continued. "And you'll fly! Over lands! Where your eyes can't find the end!" He gestured to the audience, but then he suddenly saw Spain waving wildly at him. Unable to hide his blush, Romano turned his head away.
"Up on mountains! Down lakes! Being so far away from you just makes me feel de-AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
At that moment, Italy stumbled in his spinning. He regained his balance, but Romano's head was pointing towards him. So as Italy stopped, their curls became tangled!
Both brothers started screaming and Italy dropped his microphone, which made a crackling 'thump' against the stage. They tried to pull each other apart, but their foreheads smacked together hard. Still screaming, they both dropped to their knees on the stage.
"W-What's going on?" Austria sputtered.
"It won't come out! OW!"
Germany had a sudden embarrassing flashback and ducked his head once more.
"Oh, dear," San Marino said, wringing his hands helplessly as Italy and Romano continued screaming onstage. "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear…"
Seborga, however, was screaming with laughter, openly pointing and mocking his older brothers.
"Romano gets really angry when I pull that curl," Spain said thoughtfully. "Maybe it hurts him, or something?"
Romano was the only one holding a microphone, and he struggled to finish the song. But since they were nearly pressed up together, everyone could hear the singing and Italy's whining. "E-E-E vedrai! Un'altra te!" he jammed his free hand into Italy's chin so that their faces wouldn't mush together. "Q-Quasi invincible—"
"Nii-san, don't push so hard! Don't—OW OW!"
"Viva come! Non mai! E-E-Ed è li che tu mu avrai!"
"No, no, that's hurts! You're hurting me, YOU'RE HURTING ME!"
"Why are they screaming?" Sealand asked. "Does it hurt, or something?"
"…Probably," Finland said slowly.
"I…don't think this is turning out the way they wanted," Lithuania said slowly.
"Hmm," Poland said, though he smiled. "This is still pretty entertaining, though!"
"Splenderai! Splender—QUIT MOVING, IDIOTA!—Splenderai! SPLENDERAI!"
Mercifully the song was over. Despite the…interruption, most of the audience stood up and cheered wildly. Unfortunately, by this time though their hair had been tangled for quite a while and neither had the strength to get back to their feet.
"Doitsu!" Italy cried into the microphone, which echoed all over the arena. "Doitsu, Doitsu! Help me, please!"
"Don't call him over!" Romano hollered. He tried to pull apart from Italy. "I should've done this fucking performance ALONE!"
Germany groaned as a chorus of 'Doitsu's' came from both Italy and a few obnoxious people in the audience. "Story of my life…" he shook his head and headed out onstage to untangle the brothers.
As Germany set about untangling them, the scores were quickly sent out.
"W-WOW!" Latvia cried out, sitting up in his seat. "Perfect score!"
"Me too!" San Marino cheered. "I kept my promise!"
"No one's surprised," Seborga muttered.
"Perfect score from me too!" Albania laughed. "That was very entertaining!"
Spain was looking at his phone in silence. Portugal glanced at him. "I gave them ten points. How about you?"
"…I'll be right back." Spain jumped out of his seat and took off running.
Portugal stared after him in confusion. "Eh?"
"Ten points," Lithuania said.
"Six," Estonia said.
"Ten!" Poland cheered.
"Ten," Greece read.
"One," Cyprus said.
"I didn't score him," Turkey said. "Meh."
"Me either," Netherlands said.
"Six points," Belgium said.
"T-Three," Finland said.
"Nothing," Norway said.
"Me too," Denmark said. Sparkles filled his eyes. "Our scores keep matching…that means we're in-synch, Norge!"
Norway rolled his eyes.
"I didn't score them," Sweden said.
"Four points!" Hungary cheered as the untangled brothers and Germany came backstage.
"…Six," Austria said. He rubbed at his forehead. "But that's the only song I've enjoyed so far. Maybe my judge was annoyed by the screaming…"
"It's all your fault!" Romano snapped, jabbing Italy hard with his index finger. "All because you decided to spin around like a fucking ballerina!"
Italy began crying. "I'm sorry, Nii-san! I'm so sorry!"
"I like the performance," Germany said, checking his cell phone. He saw the score he gave Italy and winced. "I gave you three points. But I still liked the performance!"
Italy sniffled, and scrubbed at his face with his sleeve. "R-Really? You really liked it, Germany?"
"J-Ja. And, uh…" he ran a hand through his hair and ducked his head. "I was f-flattered that you sang to me."
Italy's eyes snapped open and he gaped at him. "Y-You knew? Oh Germany!" he jumped on Germany and hugged him tightly. "I'm so happy!"
"Ugh, I'm going to be sick!" Romano gagged.
"Milyen aranyos," Hungary cooed, pulling out a camera and taking pictures.
"ROMANO!"
Romano stiffened, but he didn't have time to run away as Spain jumped on him from behind and hugged him tightly. "Motherfuck—GET OFF ME!"
"Romanooooooo," Spain laughed, snuggling him close. "Look, look! I gave you twelve points! My judge gave you a perfect score!"
Romano froze, and grabbed the phone from Spain. "Really?" he opened the text message and saw 'twelve points' printed in it. "Mio Dio…that IS a perfect score!"
"Grazie, Spain-nii-san!" Italy cheered over his shoulder.
"Latvia, Albania, and San Marino also gave you two perfect scores." Spain snuggled Romano a little closer. "But you are most pleased with my perfect score, no?"
"All right, I get it! Now get off me!"
Spain chuckled against his neck, the soft rumble causing shivers to run through Romano's body. "…Do you really want me to?"
"Sí!" Romano barked, finally managing to shove him away.
But Spain was still having none of it and grabbed Romano in a loose headlock. "I'll let you thank me for it later. Come, let's go back into the audience!" he proceeded to drag Romano off.
"I want to take a shower! HEY! Let me go, pomodoro bastardo!"
Italy smiled at Germany as he let him go. "I'd like to clean up and then go back into the audience. I'll definitely cheer for you, Germany!"
"Mange tak," Germany said, managing a smile.
"…Got plenty of pictures," Hungary hummed to herself, cycling through the gallery in her camera.
Austria just sighed.
"Four points."
Switzerland snapped his phone shut and tucked it away. He looked at himself in the mirror. He wore a blue tunic-shirt and black slacks. He hadn't expected to get into the final, after failing to qualify for the past four years. But he was here, and he had to give his best show.
Even if the song chosen for him was…less than desirable.
"You're going to do great, Nii-san," Liechtenstein said confidently. "I just know you will."
Switzerland nodded and forced a smile at her. "Danke."
"But, um…Nii-san?"
"What is it?"
"Are you going to be taking your gun onstage?"
Switzerland's rifle was strapped to his body. Switzerland looked at the barrel over his shoulder and sighed. "…Nein. Here." he reluctantly took the gun off him and handed it to Liechtenstein. "Hang onto this for me, but don't fire it. Not unless a stranger hassles you."
"A-All right." Liechtenstein hugged the rifle to her chest. "Are you ready, Nii-san?"
Switzerland sighed, but nodded. "I'm ready. Let's go."
"Switzerland is next?" America read from the program.
Poland snorted. "Just wait until you hear his song!"
"He hasn't done too well the past few years," Estonia mused. "After all, the last time he won was in 1988."
"…And he used Celine Dion," Canada said quietly.
"Here we are!"
America perked up at this voice. "Ireland!" he jumped up as the country herself came over, carrying Northern Ireland in her arms. "You did awesome tonight!"
"Thank you!" she laughed sardonically and hugged Northern Ireland to her. "It took awhile to wash all the gel out of this one's hair, but England goes next after Switzerland! And I wasn't going to miss that performance for the world!"
"Hong Kong is performing too, aru!" China cheered.
Ireland blinked. "So he's the fourth member?"
As Switzerland and Liechtenstein made their way towards the stage, they came across Austria, who was no doubt headed back to his green room. After a long moment of silence, Austria spoke. "…Good luck."
"…Danke," Switzerland said reluctantly.
They left it at that and went their separate ways. Thankfully for Switzerland (or perhaps for other people), the chaos that had plagued the side of the stage was gone. "Here I go," he breathed slowly. "Please keep that gun handy, Liechtenstein. If anyone laughs at me…"
"Why would anyone laugh at you?" Liechtenstein asked. "You have the best song this year!"
Switzerland managed a small smile at her. "I really appreciate that. Well…here I go."
Liechtenstein watched her brother take his place on the stage. Something flickered out of the corner of her eye and she turned. "Ah! A unicorn!"
BANG!
Switzerland jumped, and spun around as the rifle went off. "L-Liechtenstein!"
But his sister looked fine. He sighed in relief and resumed taking his place.
"W-W-What was that?" Japan cried out. "Was that a gunshot?"
"It's Switzerland, though," Turkey said. "He's got plenty of guns, so firing should be expected."
"A-Ah, sou desu." Japan relaxed a little.
An incredibly cheerful melody came from the stage. Switzerland swallowed thickly and raised his microphone, mindful of the childish images pulsating on the giant screen behind him. "I looked into your eyes...and when I saw your smile…I knew right from the start—life is good…for a while.
"Romance comes and goes—" he shuddered involuntarily. "But a love like ours! Is here to stay! Each lovely night and sunny day!"
America snorted, but he covered up his laugh by a few loud coughs.
"I love everything about you," Switzerland said, his voice straining. "I couldn't do without you…"
"Whenever you're near me, all my days…are on the bright side…." Liechtenstein sang along. She kept looking over her shoulder. I hope I didn't shoot that unicorn…
"But when I'm not around you…I have to find a way to…" Switzerland ducked his head. Someone please kill me! "Be with you each night! And every day!
"Na na na na, na na na…"
Hearing Switzerland harmonize with the beat, and the overly cheerful song, caused Japan's mind to wander. "I will tell you all a sto-ry! Of the fine Alpine Milkman!" this Switzerland was in a bright green dress and dancing in a field, playing an accordion enthusiastically. "How they covered him with glo-ry! With his fine Alpine Milk-can!"\
"Everybody just adored him!" fantasy Japan ran over to join in his singing. "For his yodel loud and clear!"
"Everybody would applaud him! Anytime that he came near!" fantasy Switzerland sang back to him. They began to sing and dance together. "For he'd captivate the ladies with his—"
Japan abruptly snapped out of his fantasy and smacked himself across the face. "Watashi wa BAKA!"
"Japan?" Greece asked, turning in his seat. "Why did you hit yourself?"
"I couldn't do without you, without you baby," the real Switzerland sang with great difficulty. He couldn't hide his discomfort anymore. "Oh no no no no, oh no no eh…"
"Maybe Liechtenstein was better suited to sing this?" Estonia asked.
Thankfully for Switzerland, the song was finished shortly afterwards. He bowed stiffly and stormed offstage as fast as he could.
The countries all checked their phones, and when they exchanged votes, a rumble of surprise rose between them. "NONE of us scored him?" Finland gasped.
"Wunderbar, Nii-san!" Liechtenstein cheered, clapping her hands.
Switzerland was more than happy to be away from that. "It wasn't my greatest performance, but I'm more than happy it's over with." He suddenly gave Liechtenstein a leveled look. "Why did the gun go off a while ago?"
"I-I-It was involuntary," Liechtenstein stammered. "I saw a unicorn and I was very surprised! But I may have shot it!" tears filled her eyes. "If I kill a unicorn, does that mean I'll have a curse placed on me?"
Switzerland sighed, and gave her a loose hug. "I don't think you hit it. I didn't hear anything cry out in pain. But if worse comes to worse, I invite anyone who would dare try to hurt you."
Liechtenstein clung to him tightly and sniffled. "Thank you, Nii-san! You're always looking out for me!"
"Turkey!"
"Huh?" Turkey looked over his shoulder, as Cyprus stiffened in front of him. "Northern Cyprus!" Turkey jumped up and pulled the child into a hug. "You had me worried! You wouldn't answer your cell phone, and Albania said something about a hawkmoth?"
"I don't remember much," Northern Cyprus admitted. "But I passed out somewhere. I woke up in a green room with Hungary, Germany, and Austria."
"Hungary?" Turkey smiled as he thought of his longtime friend and pulled the child into a seat. "Then you were in good hands!"
"N-Not really." Northern Cyprus motioned for him to lean in close and he whispered into Turkey's ear. "She tried to dress me up like a girl."
The fun continues next as Germany takes the stage! Will Prussia make a last-minute save, or will Ludwig end up singing that embarrassing song alone?
- From 2006 to 2009, Russia and Armenia swapped perfect scores with each other. This isn't that uncommon with allied countries (ex. Greece and Cyprus, Turkey and Azerbaijan). This trend broke in 2010 when Armenia gave Georgia his perfect score instead and only gave Russia ten points. Russia still gave him a perfect score, though. And despite the technical issues, Armenia was indeed one-point shy of qualifying for the finals. The same thing happened to Belgium in the second semi-final.
- Yes, Celine Dion won Switzerland its second Eurovision title in 1988, and the country hasn't won since. Since she's Canadian, I don't exactly know what the rules are that allowed her to qualify. Did she live in Switzerland for a few years?
- The Switzerland in Japan's fantasy is singing "The Alpine Milkman", which is a worldwide famous folk song from Switzerland. I don't know if an accordion can be played with it, but I thought it was a nice touch, lol. And unfortunately I couldn't find any lyrics for this song, so I had to listen to it in English and transcribe it as such.
Here are the translations for the France and Italy songs, as can be seen at Eurovision's website:
France
"I dream of those lips
The voice, clear and pure
I still think of you
That night, there with you
I'm dreaming, but lamenting
And my heart, indifferent
To the life that awaits me tomorrow
I'm kneeling; I look at the sea
I shared the world with you
But you, you didn't want to go
Singing of victory
Far from you, I still think that
You're inside me, I dream of you
I will sing, sing to you
The song of you and me
I cry and I am the worse for it
I will ask the sky until I die
There among the mountains, I will confront you
To awake myself from this dream
If you die, take me"
Italy
"Saying yes, saying never, it's not easy, you know
If all of us are in the orbit in this madness
I do not know who you are, I do not care who you are
I just miss the charm of nostalgia
But you will see another me in a fragile dream
You will laugh as if I had never loved you
You will look for another me beyond the shadow of a coffee
You will find me only if I stop for a moment
I no longer know who you are
Here we live like this, day by day, night by night
And while the world turns away from its poetry
Don't ever portray me, don't ever make me
Abandon the threshold of my madness
But you will see another disarmed fragile me
Because who you are, no, it will never change
Even if I were you, like the time I'd run out
But stay with me, don't let me miss a single moment of you
And you will see another you, almost invincible
Alive as ever and it is there where you will have me
False magic will be beyond the horizon
Shine, shine, shine, shine"