I finished this chapter a day ago and I was gonna hold off until the end of the week to post it but I just couldn't resist! How often is it that I actually churn out updates like this? I believe you all following this story shouldn't have to wait especially if the next update is complete. After all, I want to get to the fun parts. -winkwinkwink- So, much love to everyone supporting this story! Please enjoy this next update~
Warnings: previous warnings all apply but emphasis on OOC-ness & fail, mentions of & drug use
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of Hetalia or Billy Idol's music.
"Thank god you're here. I'll take five boxes of Thin Mints and—You're not a girl scout." The tall man accused lowly.
"Um, no." Matthew said flatly, leaning back a bit as the spiky-haired teenager leaned forward, peering into his eyes. He was positive this was Arthur's house, but, after meeting the half-stoned man in front of him, he was starting to doubt it.
"…You look chill." The stranger finally said, amber colored eyes half-lidded regarded Matthew up and down. "What do you want?"
"…Arthur said I could drop by. I need to talk to him about Student Council matters." The wavy-haired blond explained, a little unnerved by the other's unblinking gaze. Suddenly, he became very much aware of the somewhat pungent odor emanating from the intimidating man. The smell, tantalizing in its potency, tickled his senses and sparked his memory. "…Is that pineapple express?"
As though a switch had been flipped, the man's eyes widened and his entire demeanor seemed to ease. "I have a joint with your name on it. …What is your name?"He looked at the teenager quizzically.
"Matthew." said blond supplied, helpfully, and tried to stay collected as the strange man wrapped a friendly arm around him and pulled him into the house, slamming the door shut behind them.
"Black mote? You look the type."
"Sometimes, but BC Bud reminds me of home." Matthew answered immediately. "By the way, your name?"
"Willem." The man shrugged. "But, you, my kindred spirit, may call me Will."
"Okay, Will." How the hell did he get himself into these situations? "…Are you taking me to Arthur? I really have to speak with him."
Will nodded. "He's downstairs with my sister and the rest of their little friends—practicing for some silly competition." He rolled his eyes, leading Matthew down a set of stairs now. "Along with their groupies." The taller male sounded annoyed, but it was tough to tell because his face didn't really change.
As the pair descended, the music, which had been a heavy throbbing in the background, became clearer and soon Matthew was able to catch the words.
"Hey little sister what have you done?" A voice purred darkly. "Hey little sister who's the only one?"
His violet eyes widened as they finally came upon the scene and he took in the site of Arthur Kirkland, uptight School President and stickler for the rules, sandy-hair shooting in different directions and dressed in the standard blue plaid uniform pants with his white collared shirt undone as his hips gyrated and he grinded sensuously into the mike stand.
He had gotten better at singing, Matthew noted absently, still somewhat reeling.
"It's a nice day for a white wedding." Arthur sang, words dripping into a growl.
Matthew gulped.
"Yo Mattie!" Gilbert called out, much to the consternation of a sour-faced Italian, whom Matthew recognized from school, who was sitting in an armchair off to the side. "Sit yo ass down!" The albino said with a toothy smirk, patting the empty spot next to him.
Matthew waved back and allowed Will to lead him over to the worn armchairs and huge couch, where the other two sat, gathered around a scratched up coffee table with a clear ashtray, filled with ash and burnt out roaches, a smog of marijuana still floating overhead and making the entire area hazy.
Will gently nudged him next to Gilbert and took the empty seat next to him, leaning onto the armrest. "So you know Matthew?"
"I copy off him in History." Gilbert shrugged nonchalantly. "And sometimes he flips me over the boards during practice. We're tight."
"Speaking of practice, you skipped again today."
"I told you I'm too awesome for that boring shit!"
The Italian just glanced at him boredly. "Next time you flip him, make sure the potato bastard doesn't get up."
"He usually doesn't." Matthew said with a small smirk. Gilbert stuck his tongue out at him.
"Bitch."
"Lovino." The Italian said, then, seemingly okay with Matthew's presence. "You the same Matt that that French idiot goes on and on about?"
"Unfortunately." Matthew grumbled darkly, earning a look of pity from the dark-haired boy and a snicker from Gilbert, before turning his attention back to the musicians.
From behind the drum set, he could see Belle, her short hair held back by a pretty sequined headband. The blonde smiled at him, not once breaking beat, and gave him a small wink.
Off to the right of her, closer to the front, Antonio, a close friend of Francis and Gilbert, cheerfully strummed along on his guitar, fingers a near blur as he kept up with the seemingly impossible pace set by Belle.
"That idiot missed a note." Lovino muttered, a dark glare settling on his features. "And that jerk is off key now."
Matthew nodded, having caught Arthur's mistake. Remember, his foray into musical instruments had been short. Then, he glanced back at Arthur and nearly pissed himself when he realized that the sandy-haired senior was staring straight at him, jade eyes sharp, as he sang.
"It's a nice day for a white wedding!" Arthur yelled, eyes shutting as he carried the note to the very end as Belle slammed down on her bass drum.
Holy maple moose balls. They were good. No wonder Alfred was so freaked out.
Two talented groups going head to head. This could go either way.
Matthew's shoulders suddenly felt much heavier. Which was why when Willem offered him a smoking joint, he snatched it and took a deep drag. He breathed out slowly, the smoke curling out of his mouth, as he passed it back to the ashen-haired man.
"Brother! How dare you corrupt Matthew?" Belle shouted from her drum set, looking indignant. "Get away from him, Matt. He's blitzed from the moment he wakes up until he passes out in bed!"
"Calm down, Bel-Bel." Antonio soothed. "Francis said Matthew is a pot connoisseur."
Belle didn't look pleased by this new bit of information, but Will looked proud.
"Kindred spirits." He repeated, taking a long drag from the joint. "This is some good shit, right?"
Matthew nodded, not quite trusting himself not to squeak. Will, however, was already more interested in the woven fabric of the couch. "Its like…my life in color…" He mumbled.
The blond Canadian understood. He'd been there.
Gilbert raised a pale brow. "I think I'm getting a contact high."
"Matthew." Arthur said sharply, and Matthew jerked, staring at the other teen. Suddenly, the senior's expression softened and he smirked. "Got your name in one, mate."
"Y-yeah." The blond said with a weak grin, noticing the shiny metal industrial piercing in the other's ear as well as the eyeliner he was wearing.
"Didn't expect you today." The Brit admitted easily. "Thought you'd be by yesterday."
Matthew shifted minutely. It was true, he had skipped day but he didn't want to come across as over-eager or pushy.
"You just seem like an eager beaver." He added, an almost smirk gracing his features as Matthew seemed to bristle at his assumption.
"I was busy." The blond said coldly. "By the way, you sounded a little off-key."
Green eyes narrowed and everyone in the room seemed to still, breath bated.
Matthew merely smiled innocently, content in his knowledge of vocals (after hearing Angelique and Alfred go over the finer details of it with him. Also, he could carry a note. But very clumsily but at least he wasn't off-key. He just couldn't play anything.)
Instead, the older teen just laughed. "No need to get your knickers in a bunch. The sooner we start planning, the easier it gets." He stepped back from the microphone, idly scratching the back of his neck. "Good job, you lot. Much better than yesterday." He turned sharply on his heel, heading for the stairs. "Matthew, you're with me. The rest of you get the fuck out." He called over his shoulder.
Belle rolled her eyes.
"Nothing would please us more!" Antonio shouted back before adding, in a no less cheerful voice. "I think I hate him less at school."
"I hate him no matter where." Lovino grumbled, crumpling up Antonio's coat and throwing it at his face. "Hurry up. I want to stop by the market to pick up some tomatoes, bastard."
Gilbert chuckled and slapped Matthew hard on the shoulder. "Good luck with Kirkland, Matthew. He's an even bigger dick outside of school." He stood up and stretched, arching his back. "And more likely to shank you."
Matthew, internally freaking out, just nodded and barely managed to not beg the other teens to stay.
"Just don't mention anything French." Belle said kindly, striding over and snapping her fingers to get Will's attention. "Sometimes its just better to listen and nod."
"Have some courage." Willem added, holding the smaller, but still glowing, blunt to the boy's lips.
Oh, and did Matthew need some.
When Matthew finally gathered up the strength to accompany Belle and her brother upstairs, the Sex Pistols was blaring throughout the house and, after the pair left, he followed the music to its source, Arthur's room.
"Took you long enough." The teenager grumbled from where he was sprawled out on his bed, flipping through a magazine.
"Sorry." Matthew murmured, standing awkwardly just inside the room.
Thick brows raised slightly over the edge of the magazine before the teen lowered the publication just enough that his eyes were visible. "Sit down. I'm not going to bite, mate." He joked, gesturing to his bed.
Hesitantly, Matthew took a seat on the edge and waited until the other boy put down the magazine and turned his attention to him, expectantly.
"Yao was quite strict about cost control last year." Matthew began, wetting his lips, acutely aware of the fact that he was in an ideal situation (no one else in the house, Arthur not playing President, he had actually witnessed firsthand the strength of Arthur's band) and a voice (that sounded just like Alfred) was egging him on to do something sexy. It was just the fact that the other had done a near 180 degree personality switch that had him ready to flee. "He left us a fair amount for supplies this year and the budget doesn't need to be overhauled."
Arthur nodded. "But we still need funds for next semester and I'd like to leave a little something for next year as well. And some of the clubs are pressing for a little extra for supplies. Photography needs more chemicals to develop film. Debate needs a new podium." He scoffed. "Some idiot broke it."
Matthew didn't mention that the "idiot' was actually Alfred, who pounded his fist so hard onto the wood during an impassioned speech that his hand went through the material.
"And if we give some to them, then every other bloody club will be clamoring for a piece of the tart." The sandy-haired teen continued.
The Canadian was quiet for a moment, one hand coming up to subconsciously twirl one of his curly strands. "Well." He began softly. "A bake sale—"
"Speak up, would you?" Arthur interrupted. "My ears are still ringing from practice."
Matthew pressed his lips together, eyes slightly narrowed but he complied, regardless. "A bake sale is the easiest and always does well. But it's kind of boring. Maybe we could do an auction. Recruit people and have other students buy them for a day?"
"So…legal slavery?" Arthur looked interested. "What if we don't get enough people?"
"Well, the four of us will be doing it for sure." Matthew grinned. "Imagine having the Student Council President as your own personal servant for the day." He teased, laughing when a sour look crossed Arthur's face. "We'll make a fortune off you alone."
The two continued to talk about finances and fund raising for the next hour, tossing around ideas until both agreed that an auction was the best.
"With sales to Homecoming and Fall Formal, we should have no problem gathering funds." Arthur explained with Matthew agreeing readily.
During a lull in the conversation, Matthew looked around the other's room, wondering how he could kick start a new conversation, seeing as how Arthur seemed to be getting bored now that they had tired out more pressing topics.
His eye caught a familiar name on the teetering stack of albums on the other's desk.
"You listen to Rush?" He asked.
Arthur glanced at him, looking up from his cell phone, and nodded. "Picked up their third album on a whim. They're not bad." He smirked at the blond. "I can get into any band that mixes Deep Purple, some Zeppelin, and Cream."
"I saw them in Toronto." Matthew said, excitedly, violet eyes gleaming.
It was rare that he found someone who knew of the bands he liked. Alfred tended to only remember Nickelback and Celine Dion.
Just because they weren't Aerosmith, didn't mean that they were crap.
That asshole.
But we digress.
"How was it?" Arthur asked, more interested now.
"So awesome."
With matching grins, the two began to chat anew, switching from bands to music genres (Arthur swore by punk rock and Matthew was more willing to give credit to more styles).
"That's shite." Arthur growled when Matthew laughed.
"Look, I'm not saying their album isn't great, but you're giving it way too much credit. It didn't change the 'face of rock' as we know it." The younger teen rolled his eyes.
Arthur snorted. "Uneducated cur." He said dismissively, slowly rising to his feet. "Lets finish this over a nice cuppa." He smirked at Matthew as the boy followed suit. "The least I can do before I thrash you and your woefully small knowledge of good music."
Matthew snorted indelicately. "I'd like to see you try."
"And he just wouldn't accept the fact that, maybe, just maybe Fludd had an influence on rock." Matthew ranted, lying on his back on Alfred's bed, his legs hanging off the side and his arms folded under his head.
His best friend, leaning against the headboard shoveling a concoction of Twinkies, sprinkles, whipped cream, and bubble gum ice cream, into his mouth merely grunted, letting the other teen vent.
"And he has a piercing!" The blond added.
"Oh yeah, that thing." Alfred grinned, licking his spoon. "He's pretty two-faced, isn't he?"
Matthew paused, blinking, before rolling over to push himself up by his elbows . "You still aren't over it." He stated flatly.
The other blond stilled, spoon clattering into the bowl. "I am." He stated firmly. "Just…trying to remind you to watch out, Matthew. He's not your friend. He's not anyone's friend. You even said his band mates weren't too fond of him."
Matthew was quiet. "You don't have to worry, Alfred." He said calmly. "I'm just getting close to him, making him trust me. We don't even know if this will work."
Alfred stared back at him, blue eyes a little skeptical as he tilted his head slightly. "Perhaps." He conceded, digging back into his sickeningly sweet treat.
Okie dokie, so both bands are now accounted for. Willem is Netherlands and Belle is Belgium. I did put some thought into who would be in the bands & I tried really hard not to put Gilbert & Francis with Arthur because that'd be too easy in my opinion. Also, I see Arthur as a total delinquent/jerk outside of school and a no-nonsense, strict, easily-angered guy at school. He isn't a complete douche, though.
So yeah...I kinda associate Arthur with Billy Idol. ...-looks away with a blush-
I have to ask, just to make sure I'm on the right track, ...still worth continuing?