Matthew's POV

My computer turned on all by itself and while some people may blame the supernatural or other outside forces for this type of occurrence, I knew it was only Al calling. Things like normalcy and boundaries never stops my brother when he feels the need to talk to someone. It's very disconcerting when he does it through televisions though. Nothing looks crazier than arguing with a display stand in the mall because your twin had a sudden burning urge to tell you aboot the composition of a new micro atom he just discovered or the latest Halo movie news.

I sighed as I set aside my art pad and charcoals. Inspiration would just have to come find me again later. Ignoring Alfred meant running the risk my Ipod would only play country music until I was forgiven for that most grievous of slights.

"Hey Mattie! Do ya wanna go to high school with me bro?!"

I stared at the screen displaying my overly enthusiastic sibling grinning widely at me as my brain tried to process his latest odd request.

"…..What?", It seemed like a fair and reasonable question.

"Hiiiiiigggggghhhhh ssssccchhhhooolllll.". Alfred repeated, drawing the word out long like I was slow. I rubbed my temples gingerly in sudden irritation, reaching for my ever present bottle of maple syrup. It way too early in the morning for this shit…or was it afternoon…..what time was it? The clock wasn't helpful not given an am or pm with it time offering and my phone was buried somewhere under the heap of chaos that was my art studio(hence why Al always tends to call me on any screen available, that irritating little genius). I considered him again as I took a long pull from the leaf shaped bottle.

"Al…Have you been eating too much candy and watching bad 80's movies again? You know how you get when you do that.", I tried to reason with him.

"NO! I need you! It's important! Like bubblegum in hair important!", my twin whined, showing how mature he was in all of his sixteen years. Mom would be so proud.

But…..

Al rarely said anything was actually important and even more rarely ever asked for my help. I was curious, despite myself, aboot what could have gotten him to this point.

"Fine. Where am I going?", I sighed, giving up the ghost of resistance. I just knew he wasn't going to be anywhere convenient in Canada either. With any luck, he wouldn't be somewhere that had a double digit flight time.

"New York City.", Al answered, actually having the decency to cringe a little when he said it.

"You're fucking with me, eh?", I growled. The Big Apple was not one of my favorite spots and I was frankly a little surprised Al was there because I knew it wasn't one of his either. Al's declination of it was solely based on business though. Personally, I had the worst luck with love in New York. It left the bad taste of time wasted, empty ice cream cartons, and disappointment in my mouth.

"Sounds great but I am showing my new line in Milan soon, I got an exhibition in Paris next month, not to mention I'm wrapping up two soundtracks in the studio….", I trotted out my life in an effort to deflect. There was a long pregnant pause from Al, his face filling up the screen so that it was just showed his eyes, his big impossibly blue sparkling eyes.

"Mattie…please?", he asked quietly, his tone closer to my usual own, all soft and whispery.

I told myself to look away, for my resolve to hold true, to not cave like I had done so many times before in the full view of 'kicked puppy face of hurt and begging." Be strong Matthew! Remember the last time!? You now have to drink maple syrup every day for the rest of your life…which admittedly isn't really a bad thing or the hot body that came with the deal…..No, no, not giving in!

"I'll be on the next plane out.", I caved, slapping the laptop shut.

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Three very bad friends loitered outside of the cafeteria taking up several lunch tables as their own personal domain. The trio talked shit about anyone who dared pass their way. Some were taunted like the Austrian aristocrat and his unlikely Hungarian girlfriend who was the daughter of a major crime lord there. Some were molested like the Headmasters' grandchildren, the Italian twins, one of which a member of the trio was dating. Some were mocked like the Greek poet who was constantly followed around by cats(and who sleepily ignored them) and a certain German brother(who threatened them within an inch of their lives). It wasn't even noon yet, and the infamous Bad Friend Trio of the World Academy was bored. Very bored. Not a very safe state of mind…

…for other people and their wanting to remain untouched vital regions.

"So who iz zis new hatass in class?", Francis Bonnefoy- French pretty boy aristocrat, self entitled world's best lover, and walking sexual harassment lawsuit-asked in overly bored tones as he studied his manicured nails for any sort of imperfection.

"You mean asshat, wino. The better question would be 'which one?'.", Gilbert Beilschmidt-self proclaimed Prussian grandson of the school's vice principal Germania, proud albino of awesome, and resident bad boy-corrected coarsely. He played with his canary Gilbird, his constant companion and current source of distraction.

"I think he means the one who has been following el presidente around.", Antonio Fernandez Carriedo-slacker prince of Spain, tomato and Italian lover extraordinaire, and pedo of the cute- supplied helpfully with a lazy smile.

"Oui. Him. Ze self proclaimed hero.", Francis nodded.

"Self proclaimed moron you mean. I can think of better ways of spending my time than having my dick torn off and shoved up my ass by Kirkland. Why the hell is he following Lord Eyebrows around anyway? Is he a masochist or just plain stupid?", Gilbert wondered aloud as he started to flick bits of soggy paper at the nervous Latvian student, the school's known crybaby, who had made the grievous mistake of wanting to eat lunch outside today. Antonio and Francis made quick bets with each other on how many it would take for the Latvian to break down. Francis won when the tiny student ran off after only three.

"Maybe he is an old amigo?", Antonio ventured after a long moment of silence. Francis shook his fair head though.

"Psssh. Non, non, non. I have known rosbif all of hiz miserable life and Monsieur Jones iz not a friend. I have never met or seen him and I know everyone who iz anyone.", Francis said, the social butterfly(i.e. slut) of the European trust fund and party scene. Not only that, but the Bonnefoys and the Kirklands social ties literally went back centuries. Arthur and Francis had known each other since they were little with a mutual dislike for one another.

"Yeah maybe over there, but Jones is so obviously American, he probably shits red, white, and blue. Could have met him here.", Gilbert reasoned, putting his bird back on the top of his silver head for safe keeping. The canary nestled down contently in its messy nest of spiky locks.

"Not likely. Lord Kirkland iz very…selective of who befriends hiz heir. Besides, our little lord does not possess the skillz to make friends, much less the talent to keep their company.", Francis sniffed, having been forced in the Englishman's company due to social events. Needless to say they usually didn't end well with the two of them in the same room for long periods of time.

"Well whoever he is, he is loaded.", Antonio mused vaguely, staring off into space.

"La, we are all rich men's sons", Francis shrugged, unimpressed by his Spanish companion's observation.

"Nein, the pedo is right. This guy is tossing around some major cash and it looks like it's his own. The old pervert is building that gallery he has been wanting for the brats entirely out of imported Italian marble. Vati about popped a vein over it until he made Rome cough up where he had gotten the money from.", Gilbert smirked. Vati referred to his tall, brusque grandfather who could put the fear of god into the most battle hardened veteran with just a look.

"I heard something similar from my Lovi.", Antonio added to the gossip, being in a semi-permanent and tumultuous relationship with one of the Headmaster's grandchildren, " Apparently it was to keep something about his identity secret."

"That makes him worth keeping an eye on, I think, even if he iz a dullard.", Francis tapped his scruffy chin thoughtfully.

"You will need both eyes. Jones has a brother coming here to. Vati had to shuffle a lot of people around to comply to some agreement Rome made with them.", Gilbert mused, not particularly too happy with the thought of the American having a sibling. With his luck, the kid would be just as annoying and loud as Alfred. Gilbert hated competition.

"Hmmmm….That makes it even more interesting. 'Favorz' are not cheap.", Francis's eyebrows shot up in mild surprise. The Headmaster's greedy underhanded ways were well known but few were ever actually willing(or able) to pay his outrageous prices.

"Whatever. He is probably a dipshit just like his bruder.", Gilbert growled, growing bored of the conversation.

"Oui but…", Francis started to say but was interrupted when I raised my own dulcet voice after I had been waiting ever so patiently for a break in the conversation to ask the trio a simple question.

I mean seriously, how long am I going to have to stand here before one of these idiots notices me, eh?! I tend to be a quiet guy but I'm not invisible damn it!

"Excusez-moi de vous deranger but can you please tell me where the dormitories are located?", I attempted to stay polite despite the fact they obviously had a rather low opinion about my brother who always seemed to manage to make a lasting, but not always positive, impression on people.

Thanks to Al's tendency to over research everything(and hack anything with a data file) and my own huge social network within the art community, I knew all about the major players of the campus without any introductions. My choices were dumb manwhore, loud manwhore, or super manwhore. Oh, joy.

I had been aboot to go find some else to ask directions when they started to talk aboot Alfred and some guy named Kirkland. From what I gathered, it seemed like my darling baby brother(by two minutes) was crushing hardcore on some English snob. Oh Holy Maple, that had better not be why Alfred brought me here….

….still though, color me intrigued…..until they started talking shit about Al and oddly enough me.

I made the three jump in surprise, having not noticed my arrival or presence at all till now. They stared back at me wide eyed, the Prussian in particular seeming transfixed, his crimson eyes meeting mine solidly. I glanced back and forth between them waiting for an answer to my rather simple question, letting my unique gaze linger over the top of my glasses at them.

Well that was interesting…

Thanks to Al, I can see a hell of a lot more than most people. I don't know what my brother sees but I can see people's energy floating around them like an aura. After a while and some practice, I figured out that different colors in that energy field signified different emotions.

Francis was glowing crimson with lust like a bulb in the red light district.

Antonio…wow, I mean really wow. I got more color out of a bowl of lime Jell-O than what the Spaniard was giving off. The guy was kinda just like a mind mush of dull happiness in shades of pleasant yellow.

The albino though…..Gilbert was given off an entire palette range of emotion, cycling through shades in pink which meant different types of love, various hues of red for lust, attraction, and want to darker cool tones of nervousness, stress, and even some fear. That was…..interesting.

"Hon, hon, hon!"

Gilbert shot a look at Francis, both of us noting his hungry leer, and promptly tripped one of his best friends as the Frenchman rose to meet me, his signature flower already in hand. Francis face planted with an audible smack that made me even wince(and I play hockey). Gilbert moved to take his place but was intercepted by a quickly recovered Frenchman who grabbed his ankle, making the Prussian lose balance as well. This sort of thing continued for a while soI gave up on them and turned to the last member of the trio who was just smiling pleasantly down at them.

"The dormitories are down the path beyond the courtyard behind us and to your right amigo.", Antonio informed me, "But only students are allowed into them." I was still in my street clothes at this point. I really wasn't looking forward to wearing blue plaid pants.

"Oh I am a student. I just transferred here. Thank you for your help.", I said lightly, turning to leave. Francis and Gilbert seemed to call a truce long enough to jump up and block my escape.

"Do not run off yet, mon ami. Stay and introduce yourself. We, myself in particular, would love to make your very close acquaintance.", Francis purred huskily, making the sentence sound a lot dirtier than it should have. I barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes at him.

"Ja, what he said.", Gilbert grinned, ignoring the Frenchman's heel digging into his foot as he pinched him back in retaliation.

"Moi? Perhaps some other time. I have someone waiting for me.", I yawned, clearly unimpressed with either offer. I had to give them props though, neither one of them gave up easily.

"So cold for someone who speaks the language of love so well.", Francis managed a sexy pout, twirling his rose seductively at me.

"At least give us your name, since we were awesome and helped you out.", Gilbert more ordered than asked, totally ignoring the fact that it had been Antonio that had actually helped me out.

"Very well. I am Matthew Williams of Canada. I am the 'dipshit's bruder'.", I grinned slyly as the pair's jaws dropped in dismayed shock. I was easily able to maneuver around them now and continued on my merry way, the sounds of a new fight breaking out in my quake marked by some interesting German and French cursing.

Maple, what weird ass people.

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After a long open talk with Al and a very pricey one with the Headmaster, I was giving Al some last minute pointers in study hall right before his first date/tutor session/convince this guy he was normal…and having him do all my homework, one of my conditions for entering high school. I certainly wasn't going to waste my time with it, but I didn't want to be bothered by the teachers either. I was purely here for moral support….and to get laid…there were actually some very decent prospects here. I had already met a Danish prince and a Dutch soccer player who both fit the bill nicely for a little fun. One of them even came with his own party favors, which was an added bonus since the states were still slow aboot their legalization of some important basics and I needed a hookup here.

"I don't know why you just don't do this. It's not like it's hard.", Alfred grumbled filling out the answers with barest attention as he played Angry Birds on his phone.

"Because you want to get laid so that makes you my butt monkey.", I said unmoved by his complaints. I could have done it easily enough myself, but why risk the boredom?

"No. I want more than just that. I want to have cute little babies with accents with him.", Alfred sighed, finishing up the last of it with flourish.

"You had better be talking aboot adoption hoser. You are so not dabbling in human experimentation again.", I warned him with a hard glare.

"C'mon Mattie, you like maple syrup…"

"Al, I can't ever have a tan thanks to you."

"And I saved you from skin cancer. You're welcome."

"Maple, I knew I should have just stayed home.", I sighed, flopping forward onto the table. I was poked in the cheek with an eraser tip repeatedly.

"You know Canada is super boring and you love it when I come rescue from its bagged milk clutches.", Alfred chuckled as he leaned up against me heavily. I took the opportunity to tickle him under his arms in a very certain spot to make him get off of me, one of the many advantages of being a twin and knowing weak points.

"Canada is beautiful and perfect and if you don't shape up, I'll make you sing its anthem…..the entire thing…in French…..again.", I grinned evilly, Alfred paling a bit under the prospect of it.

"Damn dude, I got it. Canada, land of beaver and poutine, awesome place.", Alfred said quickly.

"And don't you forget it.", I nodded, "Now, when Arthur gets here stay on topic. This is a tutoring session. Ease yourself in and don't rush him. Remember to compliment him on something but don't get creepy about it. Most of all, stay focused Al. You tend to fall into odd tangents easily that no one else can follow."

"I am a leaf in the wind.", Alfred mantraed, taking some deep breathes.

"And stop quoting science fiction. You will be your own worst cockblock.", I sighed, face palming at him in my own growing distress. He was like a clay pot I had only half baked in the oven. I feared for my creation and his future possibilities of nookie…

…..and felt a disturbance in the force….

I turned quickly around to glare at the trio that had been creeping up on us the entire time. "Is there something we can do for you gentleman?", I asked coldly. Francis smirked back at me before prancing off to go hit on some girl from Seychelles. Antonio got distracted by something bright and shiny far off in the distance. It turned out to be a petite angry Italian. Gilbert stayed though to meet my look solidly with his own.

"Not a thing Birdie. Just enjoying the view is all.", the albino smirked. Alfred was starting to have an air of pissed mist around him, so I quickly moved to defuse the situation.

"Al, get moving or you are going to be late.", I reminded, giving my twin a little shove of encouragement toward the far other side of the room. He left glaring at the Prussian who flipped him the bird for his efforts. I rolled my eyes at them both, collecting all my papers up neatly to leave.

"You know…it against the rules to have someone else do your homework. Some may even call that cheating.", Gilbert mused aloud overly dramatic, picking up one of the sheets to study it. I flipped him a pair for his theatrics.

"Look at all the fuck I give, hoser.", I said in sincere tones, taking the paper from him. He gave me a surprised look in return.

"I could go to my grandfather about it or even the Headmaster.", Gilbert managed out, grasping for some sort of advantage.

"Then why don't you be the sweet little delinquent you are and go do that? Cause I think you will find it is your word against mine. I also think that they will find that all this handwriting is a perfect match to my own and that I can test out of any grade here with flying colors.", I laughed, "And even failing that, I'm sure that Rome would love to have some pillars to go with the gallery, garden, and some rather garish fountains that my brother and I have already so graciously donated to this school."

Gilbert stared at me in surprise, suddenly looked a little unsure of himself. He tried staring me down, but it lacked potency as it eventually wilted into a careful study of his loafers.

"You know you could have just asked me out. I might have said yes.", I sighed, growing tired of this game. I was cheating by peeking over my glasses at him, but the swirl of colors around him was so pretty, a huge emotional rainbow.

"Scheiße …..I wasn't…..ah….I was….", Gilbert scrambled to cover up his very blatant life fail.

"Yeah you were. You are going to try and blackmail me with the whole homework thing into a date or something. It's actually pretty cliché but I do love the classics.", I shrugged, slinging my messenger bag over my shoulder as I turned to leave. A pale hand on my sleeve made me pause to look back into scarlet eyes set in an oddly serious face.

"So…would you have said 'Ja'?", Gilbert asked in his rough accent, the guttural German making little inside parts of me tingle and melt a little bit. So sue me, I have an accent fetish. I personally think Al's tendency for it is worse than mine.

"No."

I watched his hopeful expression fall and go blank as he withdrew awkwardly from me. "I would have said 'Oui'.", I teased, flashing him a flirty smile in the face of his surprise. I laughed as I walked off, the self proclaimed Prussian catching up with me easily enough.

"So, will you?", Gilbert asked, moving to block my way, his garnet eyes glittering.

"Will I what?", I asked feigning innocence. I got a rude face for my efforts.

"Go out with me!", Gilbert ordered more than asked.

"Peut-être". I said with a smile.

"What the hell does that mean?", Gilbert groaned.

"When you figure it out, come find me.", I chuckled, leaving a miffed Prussian behind to go look for his French best friend. I stopped myself in time to keep from being run over by a very angry Englishman who looked like he was on a mission from god as he strode out of the study hall, swearing fluidly under his breathe about 'daft gits' and 'bloody Americans'. Upon recognizing Arthur and his retreating backside, I turned back to catch Al's eye easily enough, sending him a questioning look. My twin gave me two thumbs up and a wide shit eating grin.

Oh Maple...