Romano sat under a tree in the park with a computer on his lap. He prefered writing just lyrics on the computer and letting Gilbert write the rest. Romano only knew how to play the piano and sing so it was useful having someone who played guitar for years help him with the writing process. Gilbert, for some reason could always make the song come to life. Romano loved writing with him. Especially since this song was special.

Romano kept getting stuck on the lyrics, thinking too hard about every single word.

This song was about Antonio.

Romano closed his laptop and curled up, holding his knees to his chest. He got himself into a messy situation. He never knew Antonio was like this; he never expected it. His boyfriend used to be so caring and affectionate. The abuse started a little less than a year ago. It started off with just name calling during arguments but it escalated to the point where Romano was getting beat up every few days. Romano sighed. He just wanted to make Antonio happy… Why was everything he did wrong?

I wish Gilbert was here…

Romano's cheeks turned red at that thought. He blamed the Prussian for it. It's his fault for being so nice to me… It's making me feel different when I talk to him and… I miss the bastard when he's not around… What's wrong with me?

Romano clenched his eyes shut and hid his face in his knees.

I hate you, Gilbert, I hate you, I hate you! Stupid bastard…

He repeated those words in his head, trying to get his best friend out of his head. But no matter how hard he tried, it didn't work. Romano packed up his stuff and left the park. He obviously wasn't going to get any work done.

((The next day, band practice AGAIN))

"Okay, listen up!" Romano stood in the middle of the room, easily gaining everyone's attention.

"Today we're going to practice part of a song Gilbert and I wrote." Romano gestured towards Gilbert and himself. Alfred nudged Arthur with his elbow and was grinning so wide his face could break in half from all the pressure. The Brit scowled at him and nudged him back, the childish version of getting someone to stop.

"So everybody grab a copy." Romano waved around the copies of the half finished song.

Arthur and Alfred each took their copy, Alfred raising a brow in confusion.

"Hold up, 'Mano. This ain't even finished yet. Why don't you finish the song before making us practice it?"

Romano narrowed his eyes, he had an excuse it was just none of the idiot blond's business.

"... Just do it."

Gilbert laughed, and put an arm across the red head's shoulder. "He couldn't finish it because he lost his inspiration, right?"

Romano shrugged the arm off of him. "Shut up, asshole! I have plenty of inspiration! I just… Got busy!" Romano's glare wavered and he crossed his arms. He muttered 'Stupid' under his breath. It was really Gilbert's fault anyway… He shouldn't be laughing!

Gilbert clapped his hands together. "Alright, let's do this!"

When they were all in their positions, (Romano front and center, Gilbert to his right, Arthur to his left and Alfred in the back) Romano used his fingers to count down from three. When the Italian's hand reached 'one' the music started off slow. Romano tapped his foot to the beat as he felt the music go through him. He heard Gilbert's guitar and the singer gulped. This song had more emotion than any of the other ones and it was on a bit of a touchy subject for Romano. Romano took a deep breath and sang in a low voice.

"I remember when they told me that I'd have never been a star

I remember all the tears of my youngest broken heart

I was sick of the way I was feeling everyday

Pretending to be strong when I was hiding my pain…"

Romano's voice flowed smoothly until he hit the word 'pain.' His voice cracked and his Italian accent was really slipping. Normally it was just there but it cause his words to blend together the thicker it shone through. He didn't want to sing anymore. The Italian wiped the tears away and turned towards the rest of his band.

"That's… All I have so far." Romano partially lied.

It was half-way true. Romano had decided when he was writing to stop and take a break. He couldn't write when Gilbert was plugging up all his thoughts.

Band practice ended early that day.